Chapter 1: Jade Rabbit

Jintian City sat in the north; once autumn came, the cold arrived early.
Jintian University was a top national school—tuition steep, and somehow the basic facilities were still awful.
In the lecture halls used for general courses, more than half the seats were broken. A run of three good chairs in a row was rare; four or five intact seats in a row felt like winning the lottery.
This professor loved both padding class time and roll call. The room was cramped to begin with, and decent seats were scarce.
If you were late, you either stood in punishment, held a horse stance on the spot, or gave up and skipped entirely.
Yi Ke had overslept through her nap and arrived a few minutes late—so she squatted through the entire period.
The bell had just rung when her legs went numb and she crawled out of the classroom half-dead. Her phone lit up with an urgent message from the bureau.
【Ji Chengfeng: Team Leader Yi, the suspect’s condition is critical. Come to the station immediately to discuss next steps.】
Her head buzzed; the world went dark, then dark again. She mentally roasted Ji Chengfeng from head to toe before she grudgingly accepted reality.
She hated professors who ran over and she hated overtime.
But she was half a police officer. When a case under her watch turned critical, she had no excuse not to go.
Why only half? Because her main identity was still a student. Being a people’s police officer was her side job.
The bureau paid well. If she quit in a fit and lost that income, she probably couldn’t keep paying for school.
Complaining all the way, she called a ride on her phone and rushed to the station at top speed.
“Little Yi.”
The moment she walked in, Bureau Chief Ji Chengfeng stood at the door in a crisp uniform. Just seeing him made her head swell a size.
“First of all, I have full confidence in your Special Investigations unit. It’s just that lately we’ve had too many family members coming in to make trouble.” Ji Chengfeng launched into his familiar leadership tone. “Little Yi, do you think your team could help the other departments out and handle some of that?”
Every time he called her “Little Yi,” she heard Huawei’s voice assistant in her head.
She was afraid that one day in a meeting he’d say it twice and wake up someone’s phone.
“Chief Ji, comfort work isn’t really our unit’s job, is it?” She was young, not naive. “You said the suspect was critical. Where are they? I’ll go look now.”
Once Ji Chengfeng started lecturing, he didn’t stop easily: “Ah, youth should cherish opportunity—this is training for you. Your team doesn’t have that many cases. Comforting families isn’t a big deal, it’s experience…”
His mouth kept going, but his feet didn’t.
The situation was urgent; they hadn’t even gone through proper procedure. He took her straight to an interrogation room.
Only insiders knew Jintian PD actually had two interrogation rooms.
One for ordinary suspects. The other was reserved for Special Investigations.
Any case the SI unit took inevitably involved the metaphysical or something beyond normal law. Regular officers couldn’t handle it. Yi Ke could, calmly.
Yi Ke had exceptional talent—one of the bureau’s rare ability users. That was why she could lead SI cases.
When she saw the suspect, she understood why Ji Chengfeng had rushed her over.
The spiritual flame on this person was already faint—hovering on the edge of life and death. Without some outside force holding them up, they probably wouldn’t last two nights.
Ji Chengfeng knew how she worked. He didn’t linger in the room, gave brief instructions, and left.
Seeing her arrive, the young officer on watch reported quickly: “Team Leader Yi, the suspect fell unconscious this afternoon. In this state, is it…”
From countless cases, she looked away and delivered judgment: “Their spiritual flame is about to go out. There’s no saving them.”
The officer grew anxious: “But the suspect has critical leads. If we…”
“There is no if.”
Yi Ke cut him off with a raised hand, snapped her fingers, and a piece of candy appeared in her palm.
“Have her take this. She’ll wake for a while—barely two more days, enough for last words and family goodbyes.” She’d seen this too many times; her tone was flat. “We can’t bring them back anyway. Tell the family to prepare for the end.”
Hearing her certainty, the officer swallowed what he wanted to say and nodded.
Team Leader Yi had sharp eyes and deep experience.
If she said there was no hope, there was no hope.
Everyone on Special Investigations was an ability user. The unit was small, but none of them were people you wanted to cross.
Especially Team Leader Yi—famous across the bureau.
Her case style was one of a kind, and so was her face.
Young as she was, she dressed mature. Wild purple hair, bold fashion, a pearl necklace at her throat that always looked warm and expensive at a glance.
Yi Ke’s main job was university student; police work was temporary.
She’d entered through special recruitment with real skill. Bureau rules barely applied to her.
Come and go as she pleased. Move like wind.
More mysterious still: even Ji Chengfeng didn’t know her full background. Higher leadership had assigned her directly to SI.
So though her title was only team leader, ability and backing let her walk through the bureau as she liked.
After the interrogation room, Yi Ke meant to leave—but Ji Chengfeng forced her to stay and “train” by comforting families.
She couldn’t out-stubborn the chief and agreed.
By the time she escaped, night had fallen completely.
Jintian’s dorm curfew was brutally early. She was often out on cases, so she’d rented an apartment off campus.
She had a bit of night blindness. Near her door she only made out a lump by the entrance with her phone light.
Up close—it was a ball of fluff. A snow-white rabbit.
She wasn’t seeing things, was she? Who had a rabbit out here at night?
She hesitated, then gently carried it inside. The little white thing was barely alive—ears drooping, blood still seeping from a leg wound.
It was late; pet hospitals were closed.
She’d never kept a cat or dog, let alone a rabbit. She had no idea how to treat one, so she opened Baidu on her phone and ended up more confused than before.
She studied fine arts, not medicine—how would she handle this?
The abilities she knew were for people. Would they work on animals? What if they made things worse?
But looking at the dying rabbit in her arms, she couldn’t watch it die tonight.
Fine. Last resort.
She closed her eyes, focused, and pale white light gathered in her palm, slowly wrapping the rabbit.
Before long the rabbit woke. The leg wound began to heal; soon it stirred lightly in her arms.
Not bad.
She thought with dry humor: if she couldn’t find work after graduation, maybe she could set up under an overpass as a vet.
---
She’d been busy all day and hadn’t touched her homework.
She set up her sketch board and raced the deadline on a design draft—but the moment she finished the line art, sleep hit like a tide.
She tossed the board aside. Couldn’t finish anyway. Might as well trade failure for one happy night.
Today had been too rough. Whoever loved that cursed homework could have it.
Next morning, bleary-eyed, she looked at the board and froze.
A design draft sat there—nearly finished.
Wait. She hadn’t eaten magic mushrooms, had she?
She went to sleep and the assignment finished itself? Had she sleepwalked?
This wasn’t just homework level. The brief was understood deeply; the concept was creative—good enough for a competition.
She pinched herself hard.
It hurt. Not a dream.
Could she really have sleepwalked and drawn it?
Homework was mysteriously done, but she’d already taken the day off. No point going to campus. She decided to shop.
Household supplies first, then a big bag of premium rabbit feed—couldn’t shortchange the rabbit.
Snow-white and adorable at a glance. Found at her door—fate. She’d keep it.
First pet she’d ever had.
When she got home, she nearly stopped breathing.
The rabbit ancestor, healed and bursting with energy, had trashed the place in no time.
The vanity was a disaster.
Mirror shattered. Brushes everywhere. New lipsticks snapped in half.
Anger flared—she wanted to drag out the culprit and lecture them—but those innocent eyes stopped her.
Since becoming SI team leader she’d thought herself ruthless.
That ruthlessness was for humans.
Whatever tenderness she had left seemed reserved for this little thing.
Fine. Rabbits were cute. Spoil them—what else?
Humans weren’t worth her sympathy.
After cleaning up she set up the board again and started the next assignment’s draft. Inspiration had been gone for days; a few casual strokes, then early bed.
Second morning, another complete draft on the board. She couldn’t sit still.
Was the apartment haunted? And the ghost was helpful—did her homework?
That night she deliberately left a half-finished draft and pretended to sleep deep into the night.
In the moonlight she saw it with her own eyes: the snow-white rabbit went lightly to the easel, soft light blooming around it.
Then the rabbit’s form shifted—became a tall, cold, beautiful woman.
Pale skin. Hair like a waterfall. Eyes clear and bright. And on her head—two snow-white fluffy rabbit ears.
Yi Ke’s pupils shook. She bolted upright in bed. “You—you’re a spirit?”
The cold beauty was studying her design, pen in hand—clearly not expecting her awake. She turned back.
Fast reaction. A cold glare. Voice proud and distant: “Impudent. I am Lord Jade Rabbit, attendant to Chang’e the Immortal.”
Yi Ke looked her over and laughed lightly. “If you’re a god, how’d you get hurt that badly?”
“Ridiculous. Never seen an immortal who lost their powers?” The beauty rolled her eyes. “Mortal, once I recover I’ll leave. I won’t stay long.”