First Meeting 3

The phenomenon of Specialists first emerged roughly eight to nine years ago. However, the exact time when the first Specialist appeared is no longer traceable. When the phenomenon manifested on a large scale, theories such as the Catastrophe Theory, the Doomsday Theory, the Evolution Theory, all kinds of related hypotheses sprang up one after another, and research in this field was at its peak.

At the absolute height of this research craze, a cross-border Special Ability Holder Training Camp emerged, claiming it could cultivate Specialists with specific functions and orientations. It became wildly popular for a time, attracting many followers. Eventually, the camp was proven to be merely a new form of Ponzi scheme.

After about five years of research, the fervor surrounding Specialists gradually subsided. People slowly discovered and confirmed that these individuals who suddenly acquired some extraordinary ability almost always came with a corresponding "Cost."

Take that previous robbery case, for instance. The deceased's specialty was possessing an "exceptional vocal range" beyond ordinary people, allowing her to sing notes that normal people could not easily reach and perform extremely difficult songs. But correspondingly, her "Cost" was that her vocal cords suddenly suffered from incomplete closure, leading to loss of voice. After corrective surgery, she still could not sing for long periods or at high intensity, otherwise, once the vocal cords tore again, she might lose her voice completely.

This was basically the case for all Specialists. When a sudden "specialty" descended, a "Cost" would arise, causing the loss of related abilities. The two maintained a delicate balance through a subtle Compensatory Mechanism.

A very strange and exquisite phenomenon. As if the hand of fate were playing at fairness.

So in the end, Specialists were merely regarded as random lucky ones or unlucky wretches. According to the registered files of Specialists, many of them could suddenly jump very high or run very fast, or their lung capacity suddenly increased dramatically, or they woke up one day having learned a language they had never heard before. Their existence did not significantly impact the order of the world.

Thus, the phenomenon of Specialists eventually settled into the ordinary, only causing some impact on the special admissions system for college entrance exams, amid jokes like "Human evolution didn't take me along."

*

Zhang Huaiyu rarely encountered Specialists in his daily life. Indeed, statistically, the probability of encountering a Specialist in everyday life was not high. But in a society built on personal connections, it seemed almost everyone knew a few Specialists one way or another. Online, bizarre stories of Specialists beginning with "I have a friend..." were everywhere, giving people the false impression that Specialists were fairly common.

If he truly had to trace it back, Zhang Huaiyu did have a friend at the police academy who was a Specialist. His specialty was an extremely keen sense of smell, but the cost was a deviated septum, so he often had a stuffy nose. Back then, everyone treated him like a police dog, using him to detect what the cafeteria was serving for lunch in advance.

But Zhou Qinhe was not a Specialist. Or rather, when Zhou Qinhe died, the phenomenon of Specialists had not yet appeared in the world.

*

What a pity. The world was always like this. Zhang Huaiyu closed his laptop. Every time his hopes flared up, reality doused them with bucket after bucket of cold water, trying to extinguish his hope while it was still just a spark.

"Let's wait for Zhou Ping's news for now. Since we left in a hurry, we might as well take care of our own affairs while we can." Li Che finished his concluding remarks and left in a flurry.

Nian Jueming, who had spent half the morning boiling water, asked, "Anyone want instant noodles?" before following right behind him.

Jin Fei pulled out a handful of melon seeds and leaned over to him. "Brother Zhang, is there anything fun to do around here?"

"Fun? I..." This hit right in Zhang Huaiyu's blind spot. He knew everything fun about this place ten years ago, but trying to recall them now filled him with the awkward hesitation of a guest visiting his own former home. He chose to change the subject. "The supermarket isn't far. Since you just arrived, you probably need to buy some things too. You could go..."

"No need, my brother has already prepared everything for me. Nothing to worry about. When I have free time, I'll look for fun stuff, or good food, that works too."

"Then let me recommend someone to you." Zhang Huaiyu pulled out his phone, added Jin Fei's contact, and shared a business card labeled "Y Yin Si (Admin 7:40 Bus Fare 200)" with her. "She's also a local. Knows more than I do."

"Awesome, Brother Zhang! Reliable as ever. You go ahead and get back to work!"

*

Ten years ago, everything was fun. And back then, he had a brother too. His brother would prepare everything, so he had nothing to worry about. Zhang Huaiyu moved his chair to the window, wanting to bask in the best sunlight of ten in the morning.

Back then, the biggest amusement park in L City had just been built. Even as a minor, he could scream his lungs out on the heavy-duty rides. The little dirt slope behind the school was fun too, a slightly neat stone could become a treasure. The shabby arcade on the second floor of the mall across the street, now long closed, was also fun. The crude graphics were incredibly expressive, the sounds and lights chaotic and mesmerizing, even now breaking through his memory to dazzle his eyes. Back then, Zhou Qinhe would come looking for him. He only needed to stand there with a frown, and the flowing lights and colors, the stirring sounds and shadows, would all lose their appeal. He would kick the machine, curse it for messing with his game, and then follow his brother home.

Even the small park at his doorstep was fun. The drooping jade vines swayed in the wind. Old men practiced tai chi. Noisy children ran and chased each other. Young as he was, he sat on the horizontal bar, swinging his legs, squinting as he fought against the sunlight, listening to the footsteps approaching from behind, letting the tears provoked by the sun fill his eyes.

"A-Yu," Zhou Qinhe's gentle voice would hit his eardrums first. "Time to go home for dinner."

Then those eyes, always tinged with a smile, that delicate and handsome face, would enter his sight, blocking part of the glaring sunlight. The sunlight peeked out from behind him, the light and shadow softening his features even more, carrying the untouchable haziness unique to memory. He watched Zhou Qinhe's thin lips move:

"Excuse me, is this the office of the Special Investigation Team?"

Tears spilled from his eyes. That face from memory was clear and visible, but the voice in his memory carried a polite distance.

"Brother..."

He quickly wiped his face. The filter that tears had just applied disappeared. The face from memory now wore an expression of coldness he had never seen before, nothing related to "gentle" or "soft." At that moment, some doubts quickly climbed onto that cold brow, making the frozen expression slightly more vivid, and also rapidly quenching the blazing fire in Zhang Huaiyu's heart.

A will of steel was probably forged this way. In the gaps of his chaotic thoughts, Zhang Huaiyu even came up with some ancient and modern metaphors.

"Brother... Goldbach's conjecture hasn't made any progress, has it?"

Amid the chaos, his damn mouth casually blurted out some "logical" sentences improvised on the spot. Zhang Huaiyu watched that face, which had just become a little more vivid, quickly freeze and go blank.

"Probably not. I don't study mathematics."

"Sorry, sorry. Just getting teary-eyed over the cutting-edge progress of human thought." Zhang Huaiyu quickly got up from his chair, turned it back around, then suddenly reached out and pulled the curtain halfway. He chose to turn around and face away from the window, shoving his phone into his pocket and pulling it out again, then transferring it from his right hand to his left before extending his right hand for a handshake:

"Zhang Huaiyu from the L City Criminal Investigation Detachment. Just joined the Special Investigation Team. And you are-"

"Zhou Ping. The team's forensic doctor." Zhou Ping shook his hand politely, raising the file folder in his hand to indicate. "Some results have been confirmed. The team leader asked me to wait in the office."

"The team leader said he left in a hurry and went to handle some personal matters. He should be back soon. This is the office. Please wait a moment."

"Alright, thank you."

Zhou Ping nodded, looked around the spacious but somewhat shabby office with his report, claimed an empty desk, set down his materials, glanced at the full kettle of hot water, and stepped out of the office.

If the fleeting glimpse of Zhou Ping's photo in the materials on the desk earlier was enough to rekindle his dying hope, then seeing Dr. Zhou Ping in person at this moment was enough to make his hope undergo a rebirth and break into a tap dance.

Those distinct eyebrows, that high nose bridge, that delicate face, in the past couple of years, when AI was advancing by leaps and bounds, Zhang Huaiyu had taken the only one or two solo photos of Zhou Qinhe and fed them into an AI to generate some "portraits ten years later," trying to ease his longing. But AI lacked warmth, no matter how he looked at the generated images, something always felt wrong. It wasn't until now, looking at Zhou Ping, that he understood how ten years of time left its mark on a person, yet remained unfailingly true to who they were.

The name didn't match, so what? A name was just a label. The experiences didn't match, so what? Maybe we all remembered wrong. Life and death, so what? Just some flimsy laws of physics. He must be Zhou Qinhe. Look, he even has the surname Zhou.

Zhang Huaiyu now had a boiling torrent of emotions he wanted to pour out, but for a moment, there was no one to tell. Right, wasn't there still AI? So he opened the only intimate confidant that could respond to him in time, the AI software on his phone, and typed: "Do you believe that a dead person can come back to life and return to me?"

"Hm, user query..."

Oh, he had forgotten to uncheck the "Deep Thought" toggle.

He flipped the phone face down on the desk, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the back of the phone case.

Zhou Ping pushed the door open and returned, holding a thermos. He went to the kettle, filled it with hot water, returned to his clean desk, and began reviewing the materials again.

Zhang Huaiyu flipped his phone back over. The AI's reply was glaringly bright.

"I cannot believe that."

Tsk. He closed his eyes and sighed. AI truly lacked warmth.

*

Li Che rushed back after hearing that Zhou Ping had compiled all the results and relevant materials. Nian Jueming had stopped boiling water and snatched up the files Zhou Ping handed over, flipping through them first. Jin Fei waved at him: "Brother Zhang, come sit down."

He carried his laptop over and sat down. As soon as he settled, he first stole a few glances at Zhou Ping on his left.

"The deceased in this case, Cui Hua, age 24, a senior undergraduate at L University, majoring in e-commerce. As a Specialist, what was his specialty?" Li Che didn't wait for the materials to return to his hands, but he seemed used to it. He just used the lid of his cup to skim the tea leaves floating on the surface of the water and asked.

"He..." Nian Jueming frowned, his eyes still glued to the materials, trying to summarize in words. After hesitating for only three seconds, he decisively concluded: "His legs are especially long."

Zhang Huaiyu was caught off guard and nearly knocked over the thermos Zhou Ping had placed on the table. He quickly reached out to steady it.

Seriously? Is this old joke still being played?