Chapter 763

The police detective team was just as busy; the district's actual population could reach a million, and at that scale, major crimes requiring criminal charges seemed endless.

At the police station, trivial, annoying matters never ended; at the branch, it was case after case that never stopped. Relatively speaking, they handled dangerous people—those who, if not caught early, posed a potential threat to the public, especially to their life safety.

For example, the robber Wang Yan's team just caught had previously dared to steal phones; next, he'd dare to steal computers, steal money, and if the victim happened to be a woman, he might act on lust—often leading to murder to eliminate witnesses, which wouldn't be surprising. If he wasn't caught quickly, his inflated criminal desire could easily turn him into a serial killer.

Gao Chao had once been in the detective team, so he naturally had many connections here; without wasting words, he brought over two detective officers working overtime and took the suspect away.

Seeing Wang Yan curious, Gao Chao, as his mentor, kindly took him on a tour of the branch to give him a general look at its setup.

In the car, Gao Chao asked with a smile: "How's it? Want to be a detective?"

"No." Wang Yan shook his head. "I'm fine staying in Balihe. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come back to Ping'an City—I'd have gone straight to headquarters. Headquarters' teams are way more powerful than our branch's."

Gao Chao's smile froze. He'd wanted to show off, but forgot this kid was an absolute top graduate from police academy—both detective and special ops units wanted him, but he chose to come back to Ping'an City himself.

"Don't you have even a little desire to advance?"

Wang Yan shook his head: "I have no worries about food or shelter—I just want to pursue spiritual fulfillment. Our instructor said: come from the masses, return to the masses. We grassroots police officers are the first line of contact with the public. 'When in trouble, find the police' isn't just an empty slogan. Otherwise, why are there so many trivial, annoying matters every day? People even report lost cats? I'm limited in ability, so I'll just do a good job with Balihe's matters."

"Besides, being a junior officer has its advantages: besides dealing with more public issues, there are no other messy complications, and you don't have to fear offending anyone. Isn't it said online that if you don't want to become a deputy section chief, you're effectively a full section chief? How free that is."

"What's this called? This is called having no ambition. You've lost all the energy of youth. Look at Li Dawei and the others—aren't they all glaring, eager to earn merit?"

"If merit were that easy to earn, why have you only gotten one third-class merit and one second-class merit after twelve years? That's already outstanding—otherwise, why were you demoted to our station as deputy chief? Come on, Old Gao, stop brainwashing me. I've heard our veteran officers mention that our district still has several unsolved murder cases, plus other thefts and robberies. If I solve all of them, wouldn't a personal second-class merit and a collective third-class merit be pretty much guaranteed?"

"Not just that—the 423 Major Murder Case, fifteen years old, one family; the 313 Dismemberment Case, thirteen years old—everyone agrees it's random, and they've investigated it multiple times. Solve that one, and you get a personal third-class merit."

"There are plenty of backlog cases piled up here. If you clear them all, I think you might even get a first-class merit. Our station would benefit greatly too—officially, Shandong Province certainly wouldn't have a station with better results than ours. Of course, these cases won't be handled solely by our station; the detective team must be involved, and how the credit is divided isn't certain. But no matter what, if you accomplish this within a year, our chief's promotion to full section chief upon retirement is guaranteed."

Gao Chao snapped back, laughing. "You really dare to dream. The province and city organize special task forces every year to solve backlog cases—think about how many rounds have been cleared over the years? How many resources can they mobilize? We've got how many people? Don't dream."

"Does our station have case files? Once I've familiarized myself with our district and visited the public, I'll see. Whether I can solve them isn't the point—I'll just take a look. The provincial and municipal experts' investigative methods are all written in the files; I can learn and improve."

"We have a small portion here—the original archives—but all the full case files are at the branch. I'll get them for you later; you can definitely learn and improve. Besides, solving cases isn't always about having more people. You young ones have more ideas and sharper minds—you might just find a key clue."

Gao Chao still admired Wang Yan, especially since Wang Yan had already demonstrated strong ability. Whether he solved them or not didn't matter—just looking wouldn't hurt. He had this advantage: many current detective team members were his former subordinates.

Besides, this was his own apprentice—looking out for him was only natural. If any ordinary person said this, he'd get no more than one extra word.

Wang Yan laughed gratefully. Gao Chao was easy to get along with—straightforward, upright, hated games and tricks. With this personality, without connections above, he'd never have had a chance to be demoted to deputy chief.

"Are you going home tonight?"

"Of course not. The station's swamped—if I go home, won't I be abandoning the team? Besides, the chief is working overtime too. Even if he told me to leave, I wouldn't go." Wang Yan shook his head, smiling. "I'll go back and join the patrols, help share the workload."

"Good. Young people need this spirit. When we get back, I'll give you a few simple cases—study the details. They're all medium-sized cases. The detective team doesn't handle them, and we haven't solved them in a long time. Actually, the big cases don't affect ordinary people much. It's these medium-sized ones that truly impact public life."

"Alright."

Chatting casually all the way, they returned to the brightly lit, noisy Balihe Police Station.

"Back? Was the arrest smooth?" Wang Shouyi asked, hands behind his back, smiling.

"No hiccups at all. Chief, just in the car, this kid said he'd go through every major case in our district to ensure you get your full section chief promotion before retirement."

Gao Chao laughed heartily, adding embellishment to his praise.

"Oh, what promotion or not—it's all about serving the people. But if you really clear all the backlog cases here, I'll burn incense for you." Wang Shouyi waved his hand, smiling. "Enough joking. Cases aren't that easy to solve. You're lecturing Jiwei, yet your own ambitions are even bigger. You've worked all day—go home, rest well."

"I roughly estimated—this round you handled will keep our station busy for half a month. The next tasks won't be easy—you've got your hands full."

Wang Yan shook his head: "I told Old Gao I'd stay and join patrols, let our veteran officers guide me. He's also giving me a few unsolved cases to see if I can find any clues."

"Really not tired?"

"Really not."

"Alright then. If you want to work more, I won't stop you. But remember this…"

"Don't overdo it."

"Brat, go on." Wang Shouyi waved his hand.

Wang Yan nodded and turned to follow Gao Chao into the building.

Gao Chao first went to the on-duty officers, instructing them to include Wang Yan in any assignments and rotate rest periods.

The station's shift schedule was divided into three teams of six people total: one team on standby at the station, two teams patrolling outside. Since auxiliary police have no enforcement authority, and regulations require two officers per response, each team consists of one regular officer paired with one auxiliary officer.

They rotate shifts every three days: sleep when there's no incident, jump up when there's one. Daily duties also include standby emergency response, plus occasional organized night patrols—basically, they're always swamped. In good weeks, they get one day off; in bad weeks, one day off every half-month. Even on days off, they're not quiet—especially Zhang Zhijie, who never takes a day off; you can't even reach him by phone on regular days.

Although Wang Yan and the others had official positions, they were still interns and strictly speaking had no enforcement authority, so he could only substitute for auxiliary officers, assisting regular officers.

But when the station was truly overwhelmed, they'd flexibly bend the rules. Still, at this stage, no matter how flexible, Wang Yan couldn't lead an auxiliary officer to a scene—too unstable, no practical experience, too likely to cause trouble. In today's world of surveillance, even minor issues become major ones.

After giving instructions, Gao Chao returned to his office, then came down shortly after, slapping three file folders onto the long desk where Wang Yan sat.

"Here are three cases for you. Think them over. If anything comes up, find me—I'm in my office." Old Gao lived up to his name—came fast, left fast, very direct.

Wang Yan's activity didn't interest others, but Li Dawei and Zhao Jiwei paid very close attention; Yang Shu and Xia Jie, from the same cohort, were relatively less interested.

Yang Shu, due to his high education—he graduated from a top national law school—wanted to do meaningful work, but wasn't desperate. He aimed to apply his knowledge, infused with idealism. Yet, looking at the whole picture, his idealism seemed worn down by harsh realities.

Xia Jie was frustrated, resisting her mother's arrangements and the protection from Cheng Suo and others. She wanted assignments too, but it wasn't that she lacked opportunity—it was that no one gave her any.

So when the three folders landed on the table, Wang Yan hadn't even opened them yet when Li Dawei and Zhao Jiwei rushed over, staring at the documents inside.

"Multiple dog thefts in Dongning Village. Wow, over ten incident reports."

"Multiple home burglaries in Dongning Village—nothing much stolen, but also over ten incident reports."

"This one's also from Dongning Village—two children missing, both boys under seven, last month."

After reciting the cases to Zhao Jiwei, Li Dawei asked: "Did Chief Gao give you these cases to handle?"

Wang Yan shook his head, smiling: "He just told me to look at them—he didn't say to solve them. These sound tough—all random crimes, including human traffickers. The burglary case is the easiest—I bet the victims immediately rummaged through their homes, smudging fingerprints. Look, the stolen amounts are small—just a few hundred yuan—and the intervals are long. The oldest is three years ago; the most recent is two months ago."

"The dog thefts are the same—reports came in gradually over the past two years. How easy is that to solve? You're lighting up—do you think you can catch the human traffickers or the dog thieves?"

Xia Jie walked over and tapped Wang Yan on the shoulder: "Did you go on a mission with Chief Gao just now?"

"We arrested a knife-wielding robber and sent him to the detective team."

Zhao Jiwei sighed: "Nice. The other three also went out on missions today—I spent the whole day sorting through paperwork at the station."

Yang Shu smiled: "We're all the same now. My mentor said he's solved half his cases and needs to prepare materials—he'll be working nonstop for a week. Add shift duties and patrols, it'll take even longer."

"Pretty much the same," Li Dawei sighed. "I finally get it—arresting people is the easiest part. Preparing all the paperwork gives me a headache. We're lucky—look at those two prosecutors, they're really suffering."

The workload in public security, procuratorate, and court work is all heavy; the procuratorate sent over one prosecutor with an assistant, who arrived in the afternoon and, except for eating dinner and using the restroom, only stepped out a few times to smoke, and still haven't stopped working until now.

"I can see you're all sick of it. Let's go outside for some fresh air and smoke a cigarette." Wang Yan gathered the files, stood up, and joined the other four in heading to the backyard.

It felt like when we were in class and everyone stepped out for a break—chattering nonsense, exchanging experiences from official police duties, talking about how bizarre the people they'd met were, how shameless they'd been.

The others in the station said nothing; even watching a group of young people gather together, they'd smile knowingly, because when they first came to the station, it was nearly the same—unable to talk with the veteran officers, they could only vent to those who came with them.

And relatively speaking, Wang Yan and the others had actually been doing fine, causing no trouble.

After chatting for only a moment, Li Dawei still couldn't let go of the cases: "Brother Yan, how do you plan to solve those three cases? Where do you start?"

"Tell me your thoughts."

"The human traffickers are hopeless—they grab a child and immediately move them, either southward or overseas; we have zero leads and can't even begin. As for dog theft, I say, if you happen to catch them, deal with it; if not, forget it. They don't leash their dogs or vaccinate them anyway, and that's a safety hazard—better off gone."

"The home burglary is the only one with potential. I checked the crime times and figure they'll strike again soon. When they do, we'll rush to the scene and scan the whole house for fingerprints—we'll definitely find some. I bet it's someone from Dongning Village, addicted to stealing."

"I've got more or less the same idea." Wang Yan nodded.

He wasn't a god—he couldn't solve cases just by glancing at the report details or case files. He had to judge based on known conditions and seek evidence through reasoning.

And truthfully, he wasn't some legendary detective. When he was a cop, he'd specifically studied criminal investigations. He'd led teams on many major cases, watching his subordinates gradually track down suspects.

Although he'd consciously learned various skills, in essence he was still an upper-level manager—he dealt with resource allocation and personnel deployment, not chasing down clues to uncover the truth. He'd studied some related knowledge, but never delved deeply.

He never imagined he'd one day truly become a grassroots people's police officer, solving the people's problems.

But relatively speaking, he still had real ability. After all, he had experience—he understood reasoning, and had learned some criminal investigation skills, like image enhancement, basic fingerprint comparison, and rudimentary footprint analysis.

His ability to read footprints wasn't from theoretical study—it was simply an extension of his innate understanding of the human body.

He was a master of both traditional Chinese and Western medicine, capable of treating anything from head to toe, inside and out. He was also a martial artist who had killed and dissected many people. Moreover, he continuously invested in and researched the grand project of life sciences, occasionally meddling in the research himself. In terms of depth of understanding of the human body, no one in this world could match him.

Add to that his clear mind, flexible thinking, broad experience, and the technologies he already controlled—and that's why he wanted to tackle major cases.

Li Dawei spoke the truth: dog theft was nothing compared to human crimes. Dongning Village was that vast, undeveloped area where people spent their days dreaming of demolition. The urban management had gone there countless times to demand dog registration, vaccination, and leashes—but it was useless; few were willing to spend that money. Seen this way, the stray dogs being stolen seemed almost like a good thing.

Human trafficking was also a serious problem. Though surveillance cameras were everywhere now, child abduction still happened frequently—mostly at train stations, elementary schools, hospitals, and shopping malls. The children were ultimately illegally adopted; girls were raised and sold into prostitution, or sent to black factories, or had their organs harvested.

It was an entire black industry chain: kidnapping children from small cities, transporting them to big cities for collection and distribution, selling them through websites, chat groups, online shops, and intermediaries—even people who specialized in registering these children without documentation.

After kidnapping a child, traffickers didn't need to flee thousands of miles—just three streets away, no one recognized them. They operated in gangs with strong anti-investigation awareness, making them extremely hard to catch.

That left only the burglary.

Seeing him say this, Li Dawei chuckled: "How about it? Need us to help you?"

Wang Yan was just about to speak when a voice came from behind, calling him out on duty.

"We'll talk about it later."

He replied to Li Dawei, extinguished his cigarette in the flowerbed, and, amid their envious glances, sprinted inside, grabbed his eight-piece kit, put it on, fastened his body camera, climbed into the passenger seat, and headed out on duty.

"Why do I feel he's even more favored than Xia Jie, who has connections?" Li Dawei was baffled. "Even if he's rich, he doesn't spend money on others. Sure, he does image enhancement and helped solve many cases, but still—why is he always assigned cases, always taken on patrols, got two masters, does community work and investigations? The gap between us is too big."

"You might as well say it outright: just call me a connection kid," Xia Jie rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

Li Dawei smiled awkwardly and explained: "I mean you have connections, but you graduated from police academy and passed the exam yourself—having connections and being a connection kid are two different things; don't misunderstand. I'm not targeting you."

"You saw the case—it's clearly without leads and unimportant, otherwise Director Gao wouldn't have handed it to Wang Yan. Besides, doing community work and investigations means way more work—you think that's a good thing? More tasks, heavier burdens."

Yang Shu spoke fairly, yawning: "Let's go back. Oh, by the way—he doesn't spend money on others, but we're benefiting. And you're smoking those Huazis—three yuan and fifty fen per stick."

"I didn't mean anything against Brother Yan—I'm not that kind of person. I'm just complaining. We all came together, but the gap's too big. We're all the same people—how come he's so outstanding? Come on, let's go work."

Li Dawei extinguished his cigarette and sighed as he trudged toward the building.

Xia Jie rolled her eyes again—Li Dawei's mouth never shut.

Only Zhao Jiwei, lagging behind and unremarkable, looked like he wanted to say something but held back. You probably don't realize how much freedom money can buy… For a moment, he felt happy—he knew something Li Dawei and the others didn't. That sense of secret superiority gave him a little thrill…

After accompanying them on a half-night patrol, he saw many conflicts: drunken brawls, one-on-one fights, mixed-gender fights—every kind of fighting, all fueled by alcohol. Also neighborhood disputes: upstairs and downstairs arguing over noise.

Then there were marital conflicts: after a long day of work, each with their own struggles, returning home to children who wouldn't do homework, lazy husbands or wives, irritation turning to yelling, yelling turning to fighting.

With over 120,000 people, it was perfectly normal for several couples to argue and fight every night.

Handling fights didn't require Wang Yan—he just helped restrain people, took the injured to the hospital for injury assessments, and brought those without injuries back to the station for statements. For marital conflicts, he handled them personally—no need for veteran officers to mediate; his tai chi skills were superior.

And truthfully, it wasn't tai chi—he was targeting the core family conflict. Marital arguments were common; actual violence wasn't widespread, especially given today's gender dynamics—usually, women abused men unilaterally. Most men, tough-skinned and stoic, just endured it, rarely fought back. After all, a woman's few punches and kicks were nothing like a man's.

Every family conflict had one common thread: money. Beyond money, reasons varied—women acting up, men neglecting family duties, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law conflicts, or men clashing with their in-laws. Dig deeper, many still boiled down to money: women refusing to spend on in-laws, being stingy with them but generous with their own family, and so on.

Wang Yan treated it as community work—soothing, coaxing, tricking—within half an hour, the terrified crying child was laughing, the scratched-up old man grinned foolishly, and the woman with swollen eyes was affectionate with her husband, eagerly serving tea, snacks, and fruit.

One mediation like this could guarantee peace for a month. Then, forgetfulness set in, and life's petty irritations returned mercilessly. Living together meant bickering—it was a lifetime. Everyone was ordinary, everyone had tempers; "mutual respect" wasn't necessarily a positive term.

This continued until past two in the morning. The drinking ended, people fell asleep. Except for night owls still scrolling on their phones under the covers, the city grew quiet, and the police finally got rest.

Wang Yan didn't sleep in the station's dormitory smelling of sweaty feet—he drove home, took a cold shower, and slept straight through until morning.

Though his biological clock woke him after less than three hours of sleep, he still didn't get up to exercise; he dozed until just past seven.

Under non-essential circumstances, he preferred to ensure good rest. His physical condition was now essentially fixed—breaking through was harder than climbing to heaven; declining was impossible. Even if he ate and drank excessively and never exercised, his body's powerful digestion, absorption, and metabolism prevented any fat buildup.

Yesterday, Li Dawei and the others hadn't returned—they were too exhausted to move. Desk work, compared to physical labor, drained mental energy; they were all mentally drained, too tired for any extra movement.

So after washing up, Wang Yan drove alone far away to a highly rated breakfast shop, ate a satisfying meal of high-grade-four-level wontons and pancakes, then leisurely listened to music, driving his small car calmly to Balihe Police Station.

Upon arriving at the station, as expected, it was bustling. Except for the officers who'd gone home around ten the previous night and were preparing for today's shift, everyone else had bedhead, dark circles, and yawned while working. They sipped strong tea or bitter coffee. Li Dawei and the other young officers each had two cans of Red Bull beside them as they processed files.

Wang Shouyi, holding a softwood massage hammer, thumped his back loudly, his face beaming like a chrysanthemum: "Ah, you're here, Wang Yan! I heard from Xiao Li, who was on duty yesterday—you helped out a lot on patrol. Especially with mediating marital conflicts—they said you resolved four cases last night? I told you, my decades of police instincts never lie—you're perfect for community work. How was your rest?"

"Chief, stop finding excuses to praise me—I'm afraid if I keep this up for two more days, I'll lose my sense of direction." Wang Yan waved his hand. "Stop hammering. Since it's quiet now, let's go to the dorm. I'll give you a full treatment. These problems of yours—I can fix them with a massage, the sooner the better."

The instructor, walking around the office area refilling water, paused in surprise: "You know massage too?"

Before Wang Yan could speak, Wang Shouyi, having experienced it firsthand, bragged: "Not just know—he's a divine healer! Yesterday he massaged my neck and shoulders—look now, I wouldn't dare hit my back like this before."

Li Dawei, stretching his neck and listening to the crack, was startled: Wang Yan had such a powerful flattery skill? He turned to Chen Xincheng: "Hey, Master, your neck's bad too, right? Brother Yan, when can you give my master a massage?"

"Of course, Brother Chen—just sign up for tomorrow morning. I'll come give you a full session." Wang Yan smiled and agreed immediately.

These past two days, he'd observed: aside from individual personality flaws, no one in the station was truly bad. But except for Chief Wang Shouyi, he wouldn't proactively offer massages to others. If someone asked, he'd help—it was no trouble, just fostering team unity.

Chen Xincheng quickly expressed thanks—he didn't want to trouble anyone. But he knew Chief Wang's condition well; since others said it worked, he wouldn't pretend to refuse.

He was pleased that Li Dawei thought of him, but disliked Li Dawei's loud, showy manner. So he still scolded Li Dawei as usual—these past two days, the two of them had become a station staple…

Half an hour later, Wang Shouyi, drenched in sweat, let out a long, relaxed breath, got off the bed, stretched his shoulders, twisted his waist back and forth, swung his Wang Ba fists in wide arcs, rotated his neck three times left and three times right, and carefully felt the sensation.

"Honestly, with skills like yours, you'll never go poor in this life. It really is the old ancestral methods that work— I've got a friend who works in rehabilitation at the Third Hospital in our jurisdiction; he's been massaging me for years, and not once has he given me results as good as this half-hour."

Wang Yan knew this man—he died after intervening to save someone in the hospital: "Western medicine also has professional physiotherapy techniques; it's a different path to the same goal, but the requirements are high. Rehabilitation therapy is different from this kind of massage—they focus on targeted functional training, and it's not your specialty. You're just flailing around, seeking random treatments."

"Do you think I don't know that? Brat, do you need to tell me? Don't think just because I wander around the station all day looking idle, I've got nothing to do—I'm swamped from dawn to dusk, how could I possibly line up at the hospital? My friend has free time and can go straight in; a little relief is enough."

"No need this time. I'll give you another session in half a month, then once a month after that—four months total, and you'll be perfectly comfortable." Wang Yan smiled. "Chief, I think the hospital side needs more attention. The doctor-patient conflict is deep now; though patients dare not speak up, they still harbor suspicion. A dispute could erupt at any moment, and if something dangerous happens, it'll be even worse."

"Yesterday Lao Gao gave me three cases—one of them is from Dongning Village, where two children went missing in two months. Hospitals have high population turnover, and patients are desperate about their conditions, so child care is inevitably neglected. That's why child trafficking cases in hospitals are so common—we can't afford to ignore this."

"Ah…"

Wang Shouyi sighed. "The situation you mentioned—I've already considered it. How long have you been a cop? I've been chief for ten years, moved to two different places."

"We all know the hospital situation. But you know as well as I do—we only have so many officers. We can only respond after a dispute occurs. We can't station officers there full-time; occasional patrols are already pushing our limits. Enough of this. I'm chief, but before the big picture, we're all just small cops. Do what we can, and we won't betray the state or the people."

"Chief, your awareness is high, your words are sharp." Wang Yan gave a thumbs-up. "I'm off now—let me see what Brother Zhang assigned me."

"Go on, work hard, brat…"

Wang Shouyi watched Wang Yan's back with a smile—good at speaking, good at handling people, even better at getting things done, and crucially, he never grew tired of mass work—he could actually do mass work well. Good kid…

Downstairs, Wang Yan approached Zhao Jiwēi, who looked utterly defeated, and called out: "Brother Zhang."

"You do tuina? Give me a session sometime?" Zhang Zhijie didn't hold back—he was a proper disciple.

"No problem." Wang Yan stepped behind him, pinched twice, and observed his reaction. "Tomorrow morning—come with Brother Chen. Your issue isn't serious; one session tomorrow, another in a month and a half, and you'll feel good for two years. These are occupational illnesses—unless you quit working, there's no cure."

"Just feeling better is fine." Zhang Zhijie grinned. "I heard from Liu Vanguard Commander—marital conflicts are a total mess. If you can mediate those, your community work must be solid. My cases still need a few days to sort out—I can't take you two along yet. But getting familiar with the jurisdiction can't stop. Jiwēi told me Lao Gao gave you three cases—all from Dongning Village, right?"

"Perfect. You two go visit Dongning Village—first, to connect with the people, understand local conditions, see what problems need solving. Even though we're small cops and can't fix everything, we must know where the problems lie."

"If someone gets upset and threatens to petition, we must know immediately—that's critical. Don't be careless. Some problems we actually can solve—like neighborhood disputes—mediate on the spot, don't let conflicts escalate."

"Second, it helps you understand the case and track clues. Petty thefts are small but cause the greatest harm to the public and the worst damage to police reputation. People think we're just eating rice for nothing, doing nothing. But we know our own difficulties—so if you're capable, do more, do faster."

Seeing Wang Yan nod, Zhang Zhijie pulled four notebooks and medium-tip pens from his drawer—the covers bore silver "Police" lettering—and handed two each to Zhao Jiwēi and Wang Yan, stressing the importance of written records.

Then he fiddled with the computer for a while until Wang Yan's phone buzzed. He continued: "I sent you info on several ex-convicts—all from Dongning Village. It's time to visit them. Don't be biased. Don't look at them with prejudice. Guiding ex-convicts is our duty—encourage them toward goodness, help them start new lives, prevent recidivism. This is vital."

Wang Yan nodded. "Yes, Brother Zhang, rest assured—I'll treat them well."

"Alright then. Jiwēi, hand me your current work—you go with Wang Yan. And one more thing: if anything sudden happens, don't be a hero—call me immediately."

Under Zhang Zhijie's instructions, amid the envious glances of Li Dawei and others, Wang Yan led cheerful Zhao Jiwēi to collect the eight-piece kit, climbed into the car, and headed toward Dongning Village.

Balihe Police Station sits right at the urban-rural interface, not far from the actual Fengdan Bali River. With sirens and lights on, the patrol car can cover the entire jurisdiction within ten minutes.

But driving without sirens is much slower—you still have to wait for red lights. After more than ten minutes, Wang Yan finally arrived at Dongning Village.

It's a huge village. Years ago, rumors spread about land expropriation and demolition; many people rushed to build extra rooms to claim more area and compensation. But years passed, and no expropriation came—so these extra buildings became a haven for migrant workers, thanks to their low rent. The population here is dense and diverse.

Zhao Jiwēi, who had been cheerful on the way, got out of the car with Wang Yan and stood at a crossroad, hesitating: "How do we even start?"

He was completely lost.

"What's 'visiting'? It means walking in and talking to people—door to door."

"There are hundreds of households! Going one by one—when will we ever finish?"

"Then keep walking." Wang Yan replied calmly, walking straight to the first house at the crossroad. The gate was open—he knocked loudly, voice booming: "Anyone home?"

Soon, a woman came out. Seeing two police officers in uniform, caps on, eight-piece kits at their belts, she hesitated: "What's wrong, officers? We haven't done anything!"

"Sister, we're here for a visit—just gathering information." As he spoke, Wang Yan stepped inside, looked around the courtyard, then leaned over to peer through the window of the added rear room. "You rent out this house?"

"Yes, everyone around here does." The woman was stiff, answering every question.

"Do you have residence permits?"

"All of them do. Earlier, Officer Zhang from Balihe came by, and the village issued a notice—everyone renting must get a residence permit."

"Sister, I've reviewed the cases here—over the past two years, there've been dog thefts and home break-ins. Do you know anything about it?"

"Are you here to solve the case?"

"No, just gathering basic info."

Seeing Wang Yan's cheerful expression, the woman opened up: "You police really need to step up! How long has this been going on? Not just this— I heard the kid from Old Sun's family at the east end got kidnapped by traffickers…"

In Zhao Jiwēi's stunned gaze, Wang Yan sat on a small stool beside the woman, nodding and murmuring, chatting warmly.

He carefully noted: the conversation included how many people lived in her household, their jobs, approximate income, where the renters came from, how many, their jobs and income—and also rumors about bad families, known household feuds, tragic or ridiculous households, pitifully poor families, rumored drinkers and gamblers, rumored illicit workers, rumored wealthy families, rumored big-time traders…

An outsider sees clearly—he realized Wang Yan was deliberately guiding the conversation, letting her ramble. At first, the woman held back, cautious. But eventually, she spilled everything—even the village chief's affair and his embezzlement. Yet Wang Yan's expression didn't change—he kept steering, circling back to every detail of village life…

Thank you (Feifeifeifeilale) (Tianshang Pojun) (zhengjinzong) (AteShuiguoDeLaohu) (GuangpiDeXiaoJiangshi) (DashuhaiBanyungong) (Liujia) (Changkongwang) (ShuiyuWentian) (Mubaiyie) (LiuXiaopangAikanShu) (Tieguanyin) (mg-101) (Li Jian) (YeyuYoudianLiang)—fifteen brothers, keep supporting.

Daily thanks to the good brothers who voted for monthly tickets,

Thanks to all the brothers who voted for recommendations,

Thanks to the silent readers, brothers.