Chapter 772: Won

"You've got guts, kid! Your station chief told me you're great at mass work, but seeing you in action today—this is more than just good. I finally figured out why your station's public satisfaction ratings have shot up so fast. If you weren't standing here, nobody would even care that I'm the bureau chief. Aunt Liu said you should keep working hard—she even said you could become a bureau chief one day. That's the people's expectation of you. You've got to keep it up."

After completing the ceremony of presenting banners to the public, Song Ju smiled warmly at the crowd that still hadn't dispersed and spoke to Wang Yan like this.

"Song Ju, you're not mocking me, are you? How could the masses possibly ignore such a high-ranking official as you? Look—they're all staring right at you." Wang Yan waved his hand with a grin. "I haven't done anything special—it's all thanks to our station chief's wise leadership and ability to recognize talent, and to Officer Zhang Zhijie, who's been my mentor. Otherwise, with our limited police manpower, how could we afford to be wandering around like this every day?"

Wang Shouyi's wrinkled face remained unchanged all morning: "Enough already. Do I really need you to butter me up in front of Song Ju?"

"You've got to say what needs saying. If you won't praise me, at least give Brother Zhang some credit. And Song Ju, I need to clarify—I'm not eyeing your position as bureau chief. I'm planning to devote my entire life to Fengdan Bali River—I intend to retire right here. Give me credit where it's due, but skip the promotion."

"You're getting cocky after just two compliments?" Song Ju glared. "Come on, what difficulties have you been facing at work? If I can help, I'll sort it out."

"Ah, you're right—there actually is something. Song Ju, you've got to handle this for us."

"State your case first. Whether I'll act on it is another matter." Song Ju wasn't falling for that trap.

"Study our station's head chef and replace him with someone who can actually cook. What's he serving these days? It's a waste of food. We're not changing units—just the cook. Song Ju, that shouldn't be hard, right?"

Seeing Song Ju look at him, Wang Shouyi looked innocent: "Don't look at me—he's only eaten two meals in the canteen in half a month. If he's getting food at all, he should be grateful. Now he's picky?"

"I've got money—I eat out every day. But our older officers come from ordinary families—they rely on the canteen for their meals. Why make the same food taste terrible? Just make it decent. Song Ju, this is settled—figure it out and fix it for us."

Without giving Song Ju a chance to respond, Wang Yan continued: "Also, Song Ju, please push forward on my application for the Enterprise WeChat account. My friend limit's almost full. I don't mind spending money—I can buy more SIM cards, more phones—but it's a hassle, and inconvenient for the public. They get confused with multiple phone numbers and WeChat IDs."

"Oh, by the way, one more thing. The tip I submitted ten days ago about the two missing children from Dongning Village—what's the update? Any news? I've been thinking about it too. You don't know, Song Ju—I have to walk around their house when I do door-to-door visits, afraid they'll ask me questions I can't answer. I can't stand their looks."

"This case is still under investigation. We're digging deep along every lead, which is why we haven't moved in yet. We've located the two children—I'll tell you this much—but we haven't seen them yet. We believe they're currently safe; the perpetrators haven't acted. Your WeChat account issue will be resolved within this week. As for the canteen…"

"The canteen's definitely fine, right, Song Ju? Alright then, Wang Suozhang, you two can go. You're both busy. I've still got door-to-door visits to do—I won't see you off. Take care."

Wang Yan waved his hand and walked off immediately.

"Wait—he… I… Master…" Song Ju stared blankly at Wang Yan's retreating back, then at Wang Shouyi, who was still smiling.

Wang Shouyi pulled Song Ju into the car, saying as they drove off: "Wang Yan really lacks manners, but our canteen chef really is terrible—our comrades in Fengdan Bali River have complained about him many times…"

Song Ju had his own difficulties. Replacing one chef was well within his power—just a single word. But Guangming District was huge, with over a million people and countless police stations. If he replaced one, what about the others? Replacing one wasn't the problem—replacing every chef across Guangming District was.

But what did that have to do with Wang Yan? He was just a grassroots cop. His superiors' problems were their problems—he just had to speak up. If they could fix it, fine. If not, he'd make a fuss.

He treated Song Ju casually, and Song Ju didn't put on any airs of authority. This dynamic arose from multiple reasons: first, Wang Yan was Wang Shouyi's subordinate, and Wang Shouyi was Song Ju's master—there was personal connection.

Second, Wang Yan's recent performance spoke for itself—he had achievements, Wang Shouyi had achievements, and Song Ju had achievements too. As long as a leader didn't take the blame for his subordinates' mistakes, any sensible leader didn't need strong leadership tactics: when a subordinate excelled, it was automatically the leader's success. That was undeniable.

Third, Wang Mou had a bit of money—and that definitely carried weight.

Not just Song Ju—even the municipal bureau's leaders would get this same attitude from Wang Yan. No ambition, yet rich. Highly competent, never makes mistakes. A true incorrigible. No one could control him.

Regardless of Song Ju's reaction, Wang Yan walked smiling toward the crowd: "Alright, alright, folks—Grandpas, Grandmas, Brothers, Sisters, and kids—stop crowding. It's getting hot. Don't stand here packed together. The banners have been presented, the leaders have left. Go home, go home."

"Little Wang, if I report a health supplements scammer too, will your bureau chief come again?" an old woman shouted.

Public sentiment was usable, the masses were enthusiastic… Wang Yan laughed: "This time, Aunt Liu's tip led to a case involving a nineteen-person gang with over ten million yuan in illicit funds. Auntie, if you find a case worth over ten million, our bureau chief will definitely come—even if he's busy. If it reaches twenty or thirty million, even municipal bureau leaders will come personally to present you a banner."

"But these cases aren't easy to solve. Otherwise, why would health supplement scammers be so brazen? We can't arrest every single one. And Grandpas, Grandmas—don't be reckless. You're at an age where your safety comes first. Don't risk yourselves trying to earn merit—that's not what we police want to see. Safety is number one. Be extremely careful."

"Of course we know that, really. Hey, never thought we'd actually get a banner—let alone from the bureau chief himself. Aunt Liu's family is really showing off now. Alright, everyone, disperse…"

When square dancing became a trend, old folks all went to dance. When catching criminals became a trend, old folks would consciously go for free eggs and laundry detergent.

Health supplement and telecom fraud scams come in countless forms—some people will always fall for them. But Wang Yan believed there would always be your grandpa's grandpa, always be your grandma's grandma…

Watching the crowd disperse with grumbling, half-hearted chatter, Wang Yan smiled and, with Zhao Jiwei, followed Liu Guizhen's family to their home.

"Little Wang, you really keep your word. You said before you were just a station chief, but yesterday you called—wow, the bureau chief came himself!" Liu Guizhen stared at the banner, beaming…

"Auntie, our Song Ju said your contribution was outstanding—over ten million yuan in illicit funds is a huge case. Just now, what did I tell the villagers? If it reaches twenty or thirty million, even municipal leaders might come. Maybe even government officials."

"Ah, we're already satisfied. Honestly, there are more good people than bad in this world. How many criminals are there? How many commit crimes worth tens of millions? Auntie thanks you. If you hadn't told me earlier, I'd never have realized. Your bureau chief is so young. I say you're even more capable—he'll be a bureau chief someday too."

"Oh no, Auntie, please don't say that. It's only because Song Ju has such a broad mind. If I had a petty superior, he'd give me trouble later. You don't need to thank me—I should thank you, Auntie. This case brings us credit, and there'll be rewards in the future. If you hadn't called me, those two scammers would've kept swindling people in our village. I wouldn't get credit, you wouldn't get a banner—those are small things. The real tragedy would've been how many others got scammed. That would've been a disaster."

"If any leader dares to give you trouble, come find Auntie—I'll take my whole family to petition. Let's see if there's still justice in this world. That's what Auntie says."

Liu Guizhen grabbed Wang Yan's arm, his face caught between laughter and exasperation, and spoke with authority: "But you're right, Little Wang—you're a college graduate in police work, your awareness is high. Our main goal is to stop others from being scammed. Don't leave today—my daughters-in-law are already preparing food. I told them not to, but they didn't listen. They insist on a family gathering. You and this young officer will eat lunch here."

"Auntie, I still have door-to-door visits. Even though times are better now and we don't strictly say 'don't take a needle or thread from the masses,' the spirit remains—we have discipline. I'm young, I might act rashly. If someone ever uses this against me later, it could hurt your reputation too. I know you and your family would vouch for me, but I'd still hate the hassle."

Wang Yan patted the old woman's dry, wrinkled hand with a smile: "I appreciate your kindness, but I won't eat. Quickly now—find a place to hang the banner. Let me take a photo with you and the banner, then post it to my Moments so other members of the public can see. I'll tell you, Auntie—my WeChat is almost at four thousand friends—all from Dongning Village."

The old woman beamed—it was better than her own efforts. She immediately called her sons to hang the banner on the wall, had them take a photo of Wang Yan, Zhao Jiwei, herself, and the banner together, then another of the entire family posing with the two officers holding the banner. Wang Yan edited it on the spot and posted it to his Moments.

After chatting a bit more with the family, emphasizing they must notify him before posting anything online or on TV, Wang Yan left their home amid their warm farewells and began his next day's door-to-door visits.

Zhao Jiwei smiled: "Brother Yan, this feels amazing—so fulfilling."

"Is this fulfillment from the people's gratitude, or from the merit you've earned?"

"Both, both—it's the same thing. And like you said, by catching these people, we prevent more people from being harmed. That's a good thing."

Wang Yan shook his head with a smile: "I hope you remember this feeling. Don't become a jaded veteran after years on the job. Merit cases are rare. Most of the cases we handle daily are handled by the Criminal Investigation Unit. Our roles differ—we're not here to earn merit. Understand? The goal of grassroots police isn't to suppress conflicts at the grassroots level—it's to resolve them. We solve problems."

"I think our attitude toward merit should be casual—go with the flow. After all, the big cases are all with the Criminal Investigation Unit. How much merit can we really earn? Just do your job properly. If merit comes, take it. If not, don't dwell on it."

"I feel like I'll earn merit just by following you…"

Wang Yan nodded with satisfaction and modestly waved his hand: "Don't say it like that. But if you do mass work well, merit finds you anyway. Look at Aunt Liu this time—it worked perfectly. All those Grandpas and Grandmas who came to watch today? They're paying attention now. I bet more tips will come in soon. This is passive merit—it's the reward of doing good mass work."

All that wasted breath with this kid finally paid off—he's no longer constantly demanding merit. Compared to the original timeline, Zhao Jiwei has improved greatly—he's responded to calls, handled cases, made arrests, and witnessed bloody crime scenes.

Unlike the original timeline, where he spent ages watching surveillance footage of kids stealing diapers, then recklessly rushed in during a theft arrest, ruining the operation, and ended up arresting a thief with an infectious disease.

Now, this kid has broader experience—he won't act rashly, disobey orders, or be reckless. He's much more grounded. Growth doesn't always require suffering. Exposure, experience, and mentorship can also foster growth. But originally, he had no choice—eager for merit, he could only grow through hardship. He lacked a better family background to shape his mindset and perspective, and he didn't have someone like Wang Yan, a seasoned veteran, guiding him. The gap was huge.

But it seems this kid's taken a wrong turn now—what's this "following you means earning merit"? Still, Wang Yan was quite satisfied with his little brother's maturity…

Laughing and chatting, the two continued their day's door-to-door visits. Wang Yan was still training Zhao Jiwei—making him talk to the public, observe, and consciously analyze the people he spoke with.

Though he'd missed three days, Zhao Jiwei had watched Wang Yan earn merit firsthand. He wanted to become like him—and naturally, he was highly motivated to learn and improve.

Thus ended the day's visits. As usual, Zhao Jiwei ate dinner with Wang Yan—a meal that felt lavish to him. Whenever he was with Wang Yan, the food was always excellent. In just half a month, whether expensive or cheap, every meal was delicious.

Zhao Jiwei admired Wang Yan—even beyond fancy restaurants, he'd drive halfway across the city just for a bowl of wontons. Thanks to this, Zhao Jiwei felt that after spending three days sick in the station, the remaining ten days had let him eat everything he'd never tasted in his first twenty years.

He kept a mental ledger—he planned to repay it someday. But when, within ten days, the numbers on his mental ledger surpassed his monthly salary, he gave up. He could never repay it—not in this lifetime. He stopped worrying about it—and suddenly, he felt free.

As they ate, Zhao Jiwei looked at his phone and suddenly called out: "Hey, Brother Yan, check your phone."

"I've already seen it."

Wang Yan didn't lift his head as he watched the video that appeared in both the small group of the five new recruits and the twenty-plus-member Balihe Police Station group. It was precisely the video from the original drama, where Li Dawei, in full police uniform, shoved his father on the street.

As always, he couldn't influence the case. Though recently he'd used image enhancement and fingerprint matching to solve many cases, greatly increasing the workload for his comrades, the required patrols still went out—after all, he had no direct contact with the people reporting emergencies. So now that this had happened, it was entirely expected.

Wang Yan wasn't overly concerned about this matter. True, it had stirred up some online turbulence, and perhaps now, because of him, it had become an issue of embarrassing Song Ju.

After all, just this morning, they had held a commendation, offered encouragement, presented banners to the public, arranged for reporters to interview them, and prepared materials to promote on TV and other police platforms—only for Li Dawei to pull this stunt in the afternoon. Song Ju must be numb by now.

But this incident would ultimately be just a minor storm—a son's grievance against his own father. Clarifying it would be useful; even Li Dawei's father could be subjected to online abuse.

Family matters are a tangled mess, impossible to sort out. According to Li Dawei, his biological father, Li Yisheng, had never cared for the family, wandering aimlessly outside, contributing nothing, constantly demanding money from Li Dawei's mother, dragging her down—failing as both a husband and a father, enjoying his own freedom for decades. Now, at old age, with a brain tumor untreatable, he returned to stage a performance of repentance, trying to make up for decades in just a few months.

This was clearly problematic—seriously problematic. Later, another case emerged: an old bastard of a father who refused to act like a parent, and his son refused to acknowledge him. Yet Li Dawei went over to talk about feelings, moved the son, and convinced him to take responsibility for that bastard of a father.

Generally speaking, this is impossible—and yet possible. It sounds like nonsense, but this is precisely the complexity of "humanity."

But none of this matters now, since it's resolved. What matters is, on this same day, Yang Shu responded to a call with Cao Army Supervisor regarding that troublemaking woman. As previously mentioned, the woman had quarreled with her husband, driving him away; she called the police to check on him at their villa—no disturbance, just confirmation he was there—then her husband committed suicide in his car, and she came to the station to complain. Cao Army Supervisor failed in his duty and dumped the blame onto Yang Shu.

Earlier, Wang Yan had already warned Yang Shu. This was different from giving Zhao Jiwei a lesson—he couldn't directly say, "That man will die," and make Yang Shu go inside…

"I think Li Dawei is in deep trouble now. It's not just us cops—any government official involved in an incident becomes a hot topic. Otherwise, how could what happened this afternoon be spreading everywhere by now? Look at the comments—it's like the whole country is collapsing. They're tearing Li Dawei apart. I can tell someone's pushing this, amplifying it."

"We all know Li Dawei had a reason, but others don't. Whether or not someone's stoking it, look at the scene in the video—should it be amplified? Public power must be public, Comrade Jiwei. You must be careful too. Once you wear this uniform, you're no longer yourself—every word and action must be handled with extreme care."

Zhao Jiwei asked: "So what do we do about Li Dawei? We've got to think of a solution. If this continues, even if he's not fired, he'll get a major demerit—his future will be ruined."

"We don't even know the situation yet. How can we help? Eat. Go back and find out what really happened."

Two men don't have that much idle chatter. After walking all afternoon, Zhao Jiwei was already hungry. Wang Yan never felt full anyway. They quickly finished dinner and drove back to the Balihe Police Station.

Grabbing his eight-piece kit, he walked straight inside, plopped down at his desk. Before Wang Yan could speak, Xia Jie spoke first: "Why didn't either of you reply to the messages I sent you this afternoon?"

"Busy. When do we have time to check our phones? Here, Comrade Xia Jie, look at my WeChat. This is personal—my friends and people from the station are all here. Look at this pile—I can't even scroll through it without spending ages. Now look at this—this is my public WeChat for citizens. So many messages still unanswered. I don't even mean replying—I'd need half an hour just to read them all."

Watching the two phones on the desk, Xia Jie fell silent. It was terrifying. Especially the citizen WeChat—she watched as messages piled up one after another; the first person she saw vanished moments later.

Wang Yan smiled: "So tell me—what happened? Where's Li Dawei?"

"Today, a woman reported a complaint—she hated the noise from upstairs… well, anyway, the station was too busy, so the instructor sent the three of us. On the way back, Li Dawei saw the man in the video and chased after him. Someone filmed it and posted it online, and now it's like this."

"No matter how we asked Li Dawei, he wouldn't speak. Look at Brother Chen—he's worried sick, and he can't get through to him either. The chief isn't much better—he's upstairs stressing out. Word is Song Ju flew into a rage and demands results by tomorrow. Right now, Song Ju's holding it back; otherwise, the municipal bureau would've sent inspectors to investigate this afternoon. Li Dawei won't say a word, so even if the chief wants to help, he can't."

Xia Jie shook her head sadly. They'd all come together; they'd planned to be colleagues for life. Now Li Dawei might be falling behind—it was heartbreaking.

Wang Yan nodded, glanced at the five remaining case files on the desk, took out his large thermos from his eight-piece kit, washed the cup, brewed fresh tea, then returned to his seat.

"Come on, say something! We've got to help think of a solution. Why don't you go talk to him? Ask him what's really going on?"

"If he won't speak even when facing dismissal, what can I say? He's dug into a stubborn rut. If he won't open up himself, no one can help."

Xia Jie sighed heavily and fell silent.

Smiling, Wang Yan said: "But I did check the comments. A few people seemed to know the inside story—Li Dawei's classmates and friends. They said the man he shoved was his father. I'll check Li Dawei's household registration. If that's true, it's simple—report the situation upward, and the branch can issue a notice and be done with it."

As Wang Yan spoke, Chen Xincheng, seated at his desk and fretting, had already started typing furiously. Wang Yan's computer hadn't even booted up, and Xia Jie was just about to search when Chen Xincheng said: "You don't need to check. Wang Yan's right—that man is Li Dawei's father. His name is Li Yisheng. Thanks, Wang Yan. I've got to rush and tell the chief."

As he spoke, Chen Xincheng had already stood up. By the time he finished speaking, he was already sprinting upstairs—quick, anxious.

Wang Yan raised an eyebrow at Xia Jie and grinned: "See? Problem solved. How simple. When Brother Yan steps in, it's done."

In truth, he hadn't read any comments. In the original drama, it was Yang Shu who discovered this. He'd just spoken offhand—simple enough, yet made him seem diligent, genuinely trying to help Li Dawei.

Xia Jie rolled her eyes: "Show-off. Like anyone praised you."

"Just admit it's true. You've been thinking all this time—did it help? Comrade Xia Jie, you're still lacking observational skills. Hey, why are you reaching out? Aren't you supposed to be uniting with your colleagues?"

Xia Jie retracted her hand, leaned closer, and studied Wang Yan's face intently: "I never noticed you were this cheeky before. You always seem so composed, but open your mouth and it's all sermons."

"I'm excellent. You've got to savor it slowly, got it?"

Zhao Jiwei, who had been about to speak, watched the two banter affectionately, then quietly walked over to Zhang Zhijie, who was busy elsewhere, and offered to help his master. That damn sour stench was too overwhelming—he had to keep his distance, lest he catch the "romance" virus and lose his ambition for advancement…

They'd known each other for half a month. He and Xia Jie were practically desk-mates. Every night when he returned to work at the station, they chatted. Sometimes at home, they'd have a little wine to help sleep, talking idly—their relationship was steadily improving.

So, chatting with Xia Jie while doing fingerprint matching and image enhancement, he occasionally rubbed his eyes and picked up his phone to reply. With so many people, you must witness their diversity—his citizen WeChat was no exception. Some wanted to set him up with dates, others chatted for fun, some genuinely asked questions, and so on.

For those offering dates, thank them and then decline. For elderly folks chatting idly, respond gently—never ignore them, or you'd crush their enthusiasm for contacting police. For middle-aged or young people, don't indulge them—soft words, firm scolding. For those asking questions, reply to each one—this alone was a massive workload.

Now, replying to everyone took nearly an hour. Soon, it might take days. His burden was heavy—this was the weight of "the masses."

Chen Xincheng stayed upstairs for over half an hour before coming down.

Xia Jie asked: "Brother Chen, is everything okay?"

Chen Xincheng sighed, walked over, and said: "The chief called Song Ju, explained the situation—just as Wang Yan said, Song Ju will issue a notice tomorrow to clarify. Also, Li Dawei gets a formal warning. He's caused massive negative impact and wasted so much time, letting public opinion fester—that's already lenient."

"All of you must learn from Li Dawei's lesson. Once you wear this uniform, you're no longer just yourself. Alright, that stubborn mule's driven me crazy."

Chen Xincheng's sigh was heavy. A warning wasn't a joke. For grassroots cops, career prospects were already slim—now they were gone.

He waved to Wang Yan and the others, then went to find Li Dawei, who was writing his self-criticism in another room. He needed to talk again, to comfort him.

Xia Jie and Zhao Jiwei both sighed, saddened by Li Dawei's recklessness. Wang Yan said nothing, continuing to sip tea and match fingerprints.

Soon, Wang Shouyi and the instructor came downstairs. The instructor, with family matters, had left for the day. Wang Shouyi walked slowly, sipping from his cup.

Probably still annoyed, he sighed as he approached Wang Yan and the others: "You kids really don't give me peace. I assume you've all heard—Li Dawei got a warning. Be careful outside. Always use proper methods. Don't let personal emotions control you. One wrong step, and it's too late."

"Yes, Chief, you're absolutely right. We'll learn from this." Zhao Jiwei stood up straight, startling everyone working nearby—and even Wang Shouyi, who spilled hot water from his cup.

Wang Shouyi glared at Zhao Jiwei: "Stop jumping like that. Sit down!"

Wang Yan smiled: "Chief, don't worry—it's all under control. Li Dawei was angry seeing his father—I'm sure there's something behind it. Otherwise, why wouldn't he speak? What son would treat his father like that without reason?"

"Do I need you to tell me? Do you think I don't know?"

"Tsk. Don't take out your frustration on everyone. If you're angry, go scold Li Dawei yourself." Wang Yan waved his hand, utterly unafraid of the chief, and asked, "Did Song Ju approve our new cook?"

"He almost backed out." Wang Shouyi sighed helplessly. "That Li Dawei… really gives me headaches…"

Song Ju was so wronged. That morning, he'd been delighted—recent work had gone well, the notoriously difficult Balihe Police Station had delivered results, engaged the public, filmed plenty of promotional material, and added another achievement to his record. Then, in the afternoon, this sudden disaster struck. The municipal bureau called to reprimand him, leaving him humiliated.

The contrast was too great. Song Ju felt wronged…

Wang Yan grinned: "He can't back out. He's such a high-ranking leader—if he can't handle such a small matter, how will he ever lead his team?"

"Ah, that's your line. Whoever's your superior must've suffered eight lifetimes of bad luck…"

Wang Shouyi realized—he was the one who'd suffered eight lifetimes of bad luck. He fell silent, gave Wang Yan a light slap, and walked off, choosing to see nothing.

Wang Yan shook his head and smiled, then turned back to chat casually with Xia Jie and Zhao Jiwei.

Wang Suozhang's remark was obviously a joke—he turned and walked away simply because today he, too, had been angered by Li Dawei; that old bastard's bones couldn't take it anymore, better go home and rest early.

Wang Yan had only been on the job for half a month, cracked open a string of big and small cases, chased down all kinds of leads, yet he was still a deputy section chief about to retire early. From a normal perspective, granting him early retirement should have upgraded him to a full section chief, with retirement benefits matching that rank.

But Wang Yan didn't even need to keep showing off—just maintaining his current level, a deputy division chief was guaranteed. The Balihe Police Station's performance metrics could all reach the top in Ping'an City; if things kept going like this, they might even earn a collective Third-Class Merit by year-end. With such results, it would be unjust if he weren't made deputy division chief.

In reality, Wang Yan had only visited fewer than ten thousand people in Dongning Village. Even among these, he hadn't met everyone due to various reasons. Over a hundred thousand more remained to be visited—how many situations could he uncover? How many problems solved? And he still had fingerprint matching and image enhancement techniques at his disposal.

Especially if, as Gao Chao had jokingly suggested earlier, Wang Yan's community work was so good it produced the "Balihe Method," which rose all the way to the ministry level, then Wang Shouyi would truly become a full division chief, traveling everywhere giving lectures, with rows of division-level cadets sitting below learning his advanced experience…

So the real truth is, whoever becomes Wang Mou's superior has earned the merit of eighteen generations of ancestral virtue. After all, Wang Mou has been grinding through the jungle for nearly a thousand years—who has ever been his superior?

Of course, this assumes the superior knows his own limits, doesn't waste time on useless things, and works earnestly. Otherwise, while Wang Shouyi's words might be slightly off, they're not far wrong—because it wouldn't be bad luck from eight generations back, but from eighteen…

After a while longer, Li Dawei returned with Chen Xincheng: "Thanks, Brother Yan. And you two—sorry to drag you into this."

"No need to thank me. You didn't say anything yourself—I just happened to see it and mentioned it. But still, be careful. This is already a warning. Don't act so recklessly again. Otherwise, it's not just about your future—whether you can even keep being a cop is up in the air."

"What a tragedy," Li Dawei sighed bitterly, plopping onto a chair, turning on his computer, typing a few frantic keys, then scratching his head in frustration.

Wang Yan and Xia Jie exchanged a glance, raised an eyebrow, and said nothing further, returning to their work. Xia Jia didn't ask either—since he wasn't speaking, why should she pry?

Zhao Jiwei, sitting beside Li Dawei, glanced at his computer screen and nudged him: "Hey, you've already typed 'Self-Criticism' in big letters—what are you staring at? Just write it!"

Li Dawei snapped back: "If I could write it, would I need you to remind me?"

"Friendship price: one bucket of Kangshifu beef noodles—note, a bucket, not a pack—two braised eggs, one sausage, and a bag of pickled mustard tuber."

"I'll double it, Brother Wei, good big brother, my life depends on you—three thousand characters!"

Li Dawei had a dog's face—just moments ago he was groaning, now he was back to his antics, as if nothing had happened…

Over an hour later, as the clock neared ten, Yang Shu walked in behind Cao Army Supervisor.

Cao Army Supervisor was still his usual self, ignoring Wang Yan and the other newcomers—especially Wang Yan. This kid had pride; he clearly looked down on Xia Jie, given how her mother caused trouble—anyone would be annoyed, so he ignored her by association. He also disliked Zhao Jiwei and Li Dawei. As for Wang Yan, no need to say—he'd stolen the spotlight, and that made Cao deeply unhappy.

Yang Shu casually placed his eight-piece set on his desk, walked over, and patted Li Dawei on the shoulder: "How are you? Feeling better?"

"One warning, nothing serious," Li Dawei waved it off, then asked, "You on patrol? You weren't on duty today—why haven't I seen you all day?"

"Don't even ask. My master and I responded to a call—a woman in her forties, quarreled with her husband, who ran off. We had to drive all the way to her villa to check if he was there."

"What a weird case—but not unbelievable. What happened? Was he there?" Li Dawei, ever carefree, already imagined a middle-aged soap opera in his head.

"He was there. But the woman's request was odd—she only wanted us to check if his car was parked, not to disturb him. The villa's on the southern coast, far away—we spent over an hour just driving back and forth."

"Pretty rich, huh? That place isn't something just anyone can afford," Li Dawei grumbled. "One day you see rich folks, the next you see the poor. You see young people partying in bars, and you see families causing scenes in hospitals over a loved one's death—I feel like I'm splitting in two."

"Isn't that what being a cop is? You see everyone. Lately, walking with Brother Yan through the village—I thought my family had it rough, but turns out there are far worse off."

Zhao Jiwei, who was writing Li Dawei's self-criticism, also sighed.

Wang Yan looked up at Yang Shu: "You didn't go inside?"

"No, the door was locked. I remembered what you told me—I wanted to check. But the woman insisted not to disturb him. My master said cases like this are tricky—if we went in and disturbed his rest, what if she complained? Even if the complaint means nothing, dealing with it's a hassle, so I didn't go in."

The warning helped, but clearly not enough. Yang Shu heard it, but didn't fully listen. Wang Yan thought for a moment—the man was surely dead already—and said nothing more.

Yang Shu didn't know what was coming—he kept comforting Li Dawei and strongly condemned him for making Zhao Jiwei write his self-criticism, earning a promise of instant noodles for dinner.

They even had the energy to debate why instant noodles tasted so good—after not eating them for a while, just the smell made you crave them, and eating them felt satisfying…

Wang Yan listened to the chatter with a smile, quietly doing his work.

The next day, after all five had no duty and returned home at midnight to share a steaming bowl of noodles, then drank two bottles of beer with Li Dawei as if nothing had happened—everything was calm, everyone went about their duties.

The branch also posted a notice online, revealing Li Dawei's father-son relationship with Li Yisheng, ending with: "This was a personal family matter of the officer involved, but the officer did violate discipline."

"After review, a warning was issued." The post immediately lost its buzz, and within two or three days, the incident would fade—unless someone maliciously revived it.

Wang Yan continued visiting Dongning Village with Zhao Jiwei; in two more days, they'd finish the entire village. Still, many hadn't been met—many worked during the day, others didn't live there anymore, having moved upstairs or rented out their homes entirely.

Wang Yan's evening visits were limited—he could only target households widely rumored to have problems, resolving conflicts. Those he hadn't met would have to be visited later, during off-days or evenings.

Even without them, he still needed to stroll around often, letting people see police presence. This point, however bad the reputation, had to be acknowledged—seeing a cop brought peace of mind…

A quiet day passed. The unquiet day finally arrived.

That morning, while Wang Yan, Li Dawei, and Yang Shu—who had no duty—ate breakfast outside, Wang Suozhang's call came directly to Yang Shu.

After hanging up, Yang Shu immediately turned to Wang Yan: "Something's happened."

Wang Yan acted as if he knew nothing, echoing Li Dawei: "What's wrong?"

"Remember the call I told you about two nights ago? The woman who asked us to check if her husband was at the villa?"

"Of course. What happened?" Li Dawei urged. Wang Yan also looked puzzled.

"Her husband killed himself in his car that night. Now she's at the station demanding answers…"

She hadn't come yesterday—probably arranging funeral matters. Today, she'd had time to think, grew more upset, and now wanted to blame the police to escape the truth: that her husband left because of their fight, and took his own life because of it.

Wang Yan raised his eyebrows in surprise, but didn't say, "I told you so." He only shook his head and sighed: "I heard your enforcement habits before—you're a law master's graduate, so procedurally you're fine. Even inspectors shouldn't find fault. But… now it's time to see what kind of man Cao Army Supervisor really is."

Li Dawei's eyes widened—he remembered Wang Yan's earlier words: "You mean Cao Army Supervisor's going to dodge responsibility and dump everything on Yang Shu?"

"I just said it's possible. How it plays out—who knows?" Wang Yan shook his head. "Enough. Finish eating—the chief is waiting."