Chapter 798: Aftermath

Wang Yan handled cases; apart from occasionally making big headlines, things were generally calm. Of course, the public reporting incidents in other times lacked the ability to stir up trouble. Only those who could cause trouble would be dealt with even more harshly by Wang Yan.

His reputation in Balihe was well-known; without exaggeration, if he simply stood at any intersection, seven out of ten passersby would recognize him, three of whom would ask for photos, the other four would just greet him, and occasionally someone might stop to chat for a while, consulting him on legal matters or case details.

Throughout the day, all the cases he handled were mediations, all assigned by the instructor; his mediation skills were high—he could satisfy one side while silencing the other, never afraid of trouble, and if not him, then who?

Besides that, in the evening he handled two cases of fighting. The rule was simple: whoever acted arrogant got punished. Fighting always involved arrogance—usually, these people provoked others first, and only then did the others lose patience and strike back or defend themselves; regardless of whether they actually fought, the one shouting loudest was always the arrogant one.

For him, such cases were easy to handle: flexibly applying the law, if neither side was satisfied, give both fifty lashes; if both were satisfied, punish the one without reason; if one side refused to accept it and insisted on causing trouble, punish the one who refused.

If one side didn't fight back and lay on the ground, it became even simpler…

Besides answering calls, during peak hours he patrolled densely populated areas within his jurisdiction; during low-traffic periods, he'd casually enter any nearby shop to conduct security and safety inspections, visit residents, and gather information—still quite fulfilling.

By the late night, when things quieted down, Wang Yan didn't go to the dormitory to endure the stench of sweaty feet; instead, he spent the night doing fingerprint comparisons right at his desk, arms crossed, dozing for several hours until morning.

At seven-thirty, Xia Jie arrived; Wang Yan pulled her aside and asked, "Didn't I tell you I took two days off? Why are you here?"

Though they were close, Xia Jie still hadn't fully adjusted to the rapid progression of their relationship; blushing, she replied, "There's nothing meaningful at home—I'd rather come to the station and work. The workload keeps piling up; how could I ever finish it all?"

"So how are you feeling now?"

"Still a bit unwell," Xia Jie said, head bowed, voice like a mosquito's. Then she suddenly looked up and slapped Wang Yan's arm hard. "It's all your fault—why are you even asking?"

Saying that, she turned and walked away, unable to bear the teasing glances from her colleagues.

Wang Yan didn't care at all—adults, after all. What's there to be embarrassed about? He smiled at the others and followed Xia Jie into the cafeteria for breakfast.

Wang Shouyi had already arrived, showed concern for Xia Jie, scolded Wang Yan, and then began eating.

He smiled and said, "I see all those parents who beat their kids are still waiting outside."

Wang Yan nodded: "Chen Baocheng called me this morning—he accepted the settlement. I also contacted the cyber police; the video's spread has been contained, most copies deleted, and the students reprimanded. Some might still have backups, but I doubt they'd dare spread them now."

"You think so?" Wang Shouyi asked. "Yesterday seemed quiet, but good news doesn't travel far—bad news spreads a thousand miles. Every corner of Ping'an City knows about it. I got dozens of calls yesterday, all asking for details. You, always stirring up trouble." He added, "Did they bleed heavily?"

"Not really—they're all rich. This amount isn't bleeding. Total compensation: three hundred thousand yuan, seventy-five thousand per family, including medical fees. The forensic report showed one rib broken, two cracked, internal organs shaken, some internal injuries—classified as minor injury. With medical insurance, it wouldn't cost five thousand yuan to treat; they'd recover in two or three months."

"Besides the three hundred thousand, the Education Bureau agreed to help Chen Ming transfer schools and record this incident in the files of the four perpetrators, cutting off their paths to military service or civil service exams."

Wang Shouyi sighed: "This is what happens when the poor lack ambition. If you hadn't stood up for them, this case would've been quietly buried."

"That's why the instructor had foresight—he assigned this case to me."

Wang Yan understood Wang Shouyi's inner frustration. If everyone were like this, it'd be fine—he'd been a cop for thirty years, seen plenty of storms, witnessed many cases of powerful, wealthy families bullying ordinary ones. The chief was an official, but only a chief.

But now there was Wang Yan—someone who was literally risking his life in this struggle—making the rest of them look like idle eaters, and the contrast hurt deeply.

When something bad, an unjust rule, becomes mainstream, then good things and good behavior become wrong by comparison.

As Nietzsche said: a beam of light enters a iron tower, exposing its filth—and the light becomes guilty. Now Wang Yan is that beam of light; naturally, he is the guilty one.

But clearly, Wang Yan didn't care at all.

Xia Jie, confused, asked: "What's going on?"

"Oh right, you didn't know. Yesterday…" Wang Shouyi cheerfully explained the general course of events to Xia Jie, then said to Wang Yan, "You, think of yourself, but also think of Xia Jie. I can't argue with you, but you must have your own moral compass."

"Don't worry, Chief. Who wants to die if they can live? You know me—I'm careful with methods. After these incidents, everyone who needs to know, knows. Those who don't will find out when I give them a brutal lesson. After this, such cases will become rarer."

"Besides, how many such people are there in Balihe? I've got them all counted. In a few days, my law exam results will come out—I'll take the bar exam next, giving me an exit plan. Also, the papers and articles I've written will surely get responses soon, especially from Qiushi—that's my shield. As long as I conduct myself uprightly, I fear nothing."

"Xia Jie will be fine. Simple logic: if someone wants to hurt me and fails to kill me, then attacks Xia Jie directly, they're finished. I solve cases, I stir up trouble—they wouldn't dare do that even with eight pairs of balls. As long as I'm safe, Xia Jie is safe—no problem."

By now, everyone who needed to know knew his story; no one would be that foolish. Before touching someone else's loved ones, they must first consider their own. Not to mention Wang Yan's personal capabilities—just his hundreds of millions in wealth—couldn't he buy several families' lives?

As for real power: compare Zhao Changyi and the richest Young Master—one a proper gang boss, even tied to provincial connections; the other, whose father is Ping'an City's billionaire tycoon, CEO of a Fortune 500 company, with ties reaching Beijing—Wang Yan still handled them both…

After laughing over breakfast, brewing fresh tea, and smoking a post-meal cigarette, Wang Yan took Yang Shu to the front reception room, gathered both parties again, asked for their opinions, confirmed compensation payments on-site, and finally began drafting the mediation document.

Wang Yan sat aside drinking tea; Yang Shu presided. Today's parents of the bullying children were even more disgraceful than yesterday's.

Because Wang Yan's phone calls had already shown their power, these bullies who preyed on the weak and cowered before the strong couldn't possibly have escaped consequences. People are never satisfied—these people even less so. They want to advance, to get rich, to expand their families and clans—and in that process, they inevitably do things that violate rules, making them easy targets.

After signing the mediation document, the group led their lifeless children out of the Balihe Police Station.

Chen Baocheng kept apologizing to Wang Yan—he knew the full situation. Without Wang Yan, they'd have been paid off with five or six ten thousand yuan at most. Not to mention recording this in the bullies' files and cutting off their future paths.

"I've said this many times, Brother Chen—how you choose is your business; no matter what, I support you. This outcome is the best possible." Wang Yan shook his head. "But I need to say something to you."

"Please, speak—I'm listening," Chen Baocheng said humbly.

"This incident, though framed as the rich and powerful bullying you, your son must have had his own faults—it's tied to your parenting. I bet you've always used physical punishment, hitting him when displeased, telling him things like 'we're poor, don't cause trouble.' Over time, he naturally became more timid."

"After such a great injustice, his psyche won't recover easily—pay attention to this. If mishandled, this child could be ruined. You must change your methods, or this three hundred thousand yuan will become the price of his life."

"Yes, Officer Wang, you're right—I'm worried too. But I'm just a rough man, never finished middle school—I don't know what to do." Chen Baocheng sighed. Throughout, he hadn't felt joy over the three hundred thousand—it felt bitter to take.

Wang Yan shook his head, patted his shoulder: "Come on, let's take you to the hospital and check on your son."

Chen Ming had undergone surgery and lay in the double-room bed, playing on his phone, scrolling through comics, lost in a virtual world. Previously, Chen Baocheng and his wife would scold him constantly; now they said nothing, just stared at Chen Ming and wanted to cry.

Concerned for the minor, Wang Yan, after assessing Chen Ming's condition, unleashed his eloquence to reprogram the boy—he had to, the child was already broken.

His goal: give Chen Ming a direction, a drive to strive, turning humiliation into motivation. He threw out stories of Gou Jian sleeping on brushwood and enduring bitterness, Han Xin enduring the humiliation under the crotch—and mixed them with harsh social realities, speaking until noon. Even the old man in the next bed, who'd broken his leg, regained his ambition. Not to mention this chubby boy—a highly successful motivational session.

In the process, Wang Yan helped the boy set goals: once healed, start martial arts training and lose weight, study hard, aim for a good university, become a police officer, teacher, lawyer—anything to ensure his suffering wouldn't be repeated by others.

In truth, hours of talking were just to plant this goal—to make this fifteen-year-old understand, comprehend, and find the drive to act.

As long as he honestly took each step, Wang Yan believed one day he'd be able to speak of his ordeal calmly—and truly be free of it…

This bullying incident was now over, but its aftermath had only just begun.

For instance, the parents of the bullies, the school leadership of Baizhong, the talkative official from the district office—all needed resolution. If not, those involved had no doubt Wang Yan would report them next. Even the Discipline Commission wouldn't stop him—he could file reports all the way to the provincial level.

Among the public, Wang Yan's reputation was polarized—inevitable. No one has ever satisfied everyone. Every person who left a name in the past had someone who cursed them—none were exceptions.

In various departments, many disapproved of Wang Yan's actions, calling him arrogant, antisocial, disrupting balance, breaking rules. Many others admired his conduct—this was responsibility, what a Party member and people's police officer should do.

Those living in Balihe had the strongest voice on this: theft and robbery incidents on Balihe Street had nearly vanished; property management had improved by more than one level; neighborhood harmony had risen significantly.

Elderly fraud cases had become rare in recent months, thanks to Dongning Village, Ping'an City's model anti-fraud village, which had captured numerous fraud gangs targeting middle-aged, elderly, and infant populations. Walk through Dongning Village—hundreds of households, over half display banners from police stations and branches upon entering their homes.

All these improvements can be attributed to Wang Yan alone. Affected by this, despite Ping'an City's real estate slump, the average transaction price for real estate in Balihe recently rose by hundreds of yuan.

But whether they liked him or not, everyone who saw Wang Yan now politely called him "Officer Wang," and sometimes even struck up conversation…

Beyond that, the Municipal Education Bureau issued documents strengthening school discipline, improving school leadership, and enhancing teacher ethics—distributed to all primary and secondary schools across the city, followed by meetings, study sessions, and a sweeping cleanup campaign: several principals weren't removed, but many teachers were dismissed—for accepting gifts and money, and showing favoritism toward students.

Wang Yan, the instigator, received no shortage of heartfelt blessings.

He wasn't idle either—he compiled a list of all schools within the Fengdan Bali jurisdiction and scheduled legal awareness and safety education sessions by date. On the podium, he gave speeches while Yang Shu snapped photos with his phone—these were all promotional materials.

Giving lectures at schools wasn't demanding: he simply coordinated with the schools in advance during his shifts, borrowed the morning exercise time during break, and spoke for half an hour. Usually, at 9 or 10 a. m. on a weekday, it wasn't peak reporting time, so it didn't take up much time.

As for kindergartens, mostly located in residential compounds, he visited them on the way and played with the children. He organized emergency drills and instilled basic anti-kidnapping knowledge. Usually, he brought Xia Jie along…

What consumed most of his time was still the three-day, twenty-four-hour shift, and the cases he handled diverted his attention, slowing his visits considerably.

But there was no help for it—police resources were already stretched thin; now that he'd been confirmed in his post and proved so capable, he naturally had to share the burden with his colleagues.

Wang Yan didn't mind—he had nothing else to do besides shift duty and visiting the public, and compared to other officers, his workload wasn't actually heavier. Of course, if he worked like everyone else, his workload wouldn't even be full—he was just too efficient. The same task, he did faster and better than anyone else.

If he couldn't even do this, all those years would've been a waste.

On the third day after the bullying incident ended, good news arrived one after another. First, the legal examination: half the people from Fengdan Bali took it, and he was the only one who passed—his long-mentioned Class A certificate.

Among those who came with him, Yang Shu, the law master's graduate, had already passed long ago. Xia Jie, Li Dawei, and Zhao Jiwei each performed worse than the last—after all, if they'd truly studied well, they'd never have taken the police station exam. Xia Jie was an exception—her father had once been the chief here, so there was some legacy. But she studied poorly too, given her chaotic mother; studying was hard for her.

Passing the Class A legal exam qualified him for a third-class merit award, but according to the Public Security Organs' Regulations on Rewards for People's Police, since he already held a second-class merit and was soon to receive a first-class one, this third-class award wouldn't be granted—but it was still recorded as an additional merit, to be added in the next evaluation year.

His papers and articles also yielded expected results.

The journals he'd mentioned to Wang Shouyi—People's Public Security and Public Security Research—he'd written several related papers. Writing watered-down papers was his specialty, and he made them look authentic, packed with real substance. These were authoritative domestic journals in public security; publishing there naturally had clear benefits—the "Fengdan Bali Method" was published here.

His three submissions to Qiushi were all accepted, and he was informed by phone they would be published across three consecutive issues as a serial. Qiushi is published biweekly, so his three articles would appear over a one-and-a-half-month period.

The prestige of Qiushi was unquestionable—senior leaders published articles there to convey policy, high-ranking officials had to wait in line for a slot, and only those with real merit were accepted. Wang Mou's three articles appearing consecutively across three issues must have drawn attention, triggering discussions, research, investigations, and consultations with relevant leaders.

His earlier antics had only stirred up trouble within Bashi City—maybe a few provincial officials knew of his role due to the old Zhao family and the Bashi billionaire's affairs, but at the ministry level, he was just two insignificant characters. Yet now, with these articles published, they would appear before the eyes of leaders—even the top leadership might take notice. That's why Wang Yan called it a protective talisman.

He was a grassroots people's police officer rooted in the community, deeply engaged with the masses, steadfast at his post, preserving his original aspirations, and fulfilling his mission.