Chapter 817: Reconciliation

He chuckled as he put away his phone, listening to Wang Shouyi reporting the situation on the call, while Wang Yan watched hospital staff and families coming and going.

They were now in the inpatient building, the neurosurgery ward. The victim had suffered a severe blow to the head, resulting in cranial brain injury. Relatively speaking, the atmosphere here was still decent—but only relatively. After all, the brain had been injured, they were hospitalized, money was flowing out like water day after day; it was hard to feel cheerful.

But Wang Yan felt neither sorrow nor joy about it; at this moment, he was thinking about Wang Shouyi's doctor friend, Zhu Liming. A man, whose wife had died from massive hemorrhage during childbirth, blamed the doctor for her death, came to the hospital with a knife to seek revenge, and Zhu Liming, acting bravely, was stabbed to death. This incident occurred after Cao Army Supervisor was awarded a Second-Class Merit.

Wang Yan thought and thought, yet couldn't figure out how to prevent such an incident. He didn't know the exact date it would happen, and he couldn't possibly camp out at the hospital every day—Fengdan Bali's citizens were eagerly waiting for him to visit. Even if he worked a twenty-four-hour shift every three days, he still couldn't guarantee the incident would occur on his shift.

If he wanted to, he could summon the hospital director and give him a good scolding—it wasn't hard for him to handle the director of such a small hospital. But if he did that, the director would be unfairly blamed.

Excluding any medical malpractice during delivery, the hospital bore no responsibility. Medical malpractice is hard to judge, and most doctors wouldn't dare gamble with patients' lives—that's basic professional ethics. When rescue efforts fail, even the best can do nothing.

In special cases, if the patient could reach the operating table, the hospital's medical affairs department would step in to coordinate—not to comfort the family or console them, but to prevent situations where family members stabbed doctors in the hospital.

So at the time, whether it was the medical affairs department or the head of obstetrics and gynecology, both had stepped forward to explain the situation and calm the family. The hospital still hadn't done enough. It was only after the family returned home, stewing in anger, convinced the hospital had treated life as cheap, that they returned with a knife to seek revenge—this was a preventable incident.

Even if Wang Yan reprimanded the director of the Eighth Hospital, it wouldn't help when the perpetrator was an outsider. Even if the hospital strengthened security, the man came in openly wielding a knife—there was no way to predict such a crime.

At that moment, Wang Suozhang Suo finished his call and gave a few instructions to the nurse, asking them to take extra care and notify the family as soon as possible. The main issue was that no identification was found on the man—he usually carried a large bag, and nearly everything he owned was inside it. But this man had no bag, no phone, nothing on his person. So they had to wait until he woke up tomorrow and identified himself before they could help contact his family.

"Did I scare you?" Wang Yan poured two glasses of wine and pushed one toward him. "Drinking isn't the problem—it's how much you drink. Understand? You need moderation, always keep your mind a little fuzzy. You got a Seventh-Class Merit—that's good. Have a drink to celebrate, it's fine."

He nodded, placed his things on the table, and asked knowingly: "You're talking about Old Cao—didn't he rest? Why's he back?"

He was very clear about it, mainly because of his own past experience: whenever Wang Yan scolded others, no one dared to talk back—they all just nodded and agreed, then changed afterward. Even the old men about to retire and just going through the motions were silenced by Song Ning, who criticized them not for moral decline, but for failing to properly hold their final shift.

But with a mother like that, how could she give birth to a son-in-law like Bao Daquan's wife? It's not surprising. Such thinking doesn't form overnight. When Bao Daquan's wife was young, her mother was already someone who despised poverty and favored wealth, always meddling in others' affairs. As the saying goes, parents are a child's best teachers—their influence is immense. Now that his thinking has gone astray, it can only be blamed on plot necessity—he needed such an opposing force.

Compared to that, losing a little face here is nothing…

The case was clear: the suspect was caught, the victim rescued, and the suspect showed no strong resistance—even cooperated quite well.

I heard you handled it, and your mother-in-law started complaining again, saying you're useless and all that. Your wife argued with you and left. Ah, I finally see clearly—your mother-in-law only cares about money. If not, this isn't privilege—I'd stay far away from her before, wouldn't invite such trouble."

Song Ningbo sighed, raised his glass and drank with Wang Yan. He poured out his heart, praised his wife, cursed his mother-in-law, praised Wang Yan, and scolded himself for his low ideological awareness.

Song Ning nodded with a smile: "You think that way? I'm glad. Alright, let's have dinner and chat properly—where to?"

Over time, everyone came to understand: Wang Yan wasn't just shouting slogans—he genuinely served the people. His scolding was about their own problems. Gradually, they accepted Wang Yan's style and actively drew closer, because not drawing closer simply wasn't acceptable.

"Back?" Song Ningbo greeted him with a smile.

Aside from work matters and ideological awareness issues, Song Ning was very easy to talk to. If anyone had a problem, he'd help—seven hundred yuan was nothing. He also actively assisted with other life difficulties.

"I know a place that makes braised meat—our pork head meat is so fragrant, even the neighboring restaurant can't match it. You can order any dish you want. You don't think it's too low-class, do you?"

Dressed in his uniform, wearing his merit badges, Song Ningbo went to his mother-in-law's house with his beautiful wife, proudly showing off. Unlike originally, when Bao Daquan hoped this Seventh-Class Merit would make his mother-in-law look at him differently and let him stand tall, this time he didn't even harbor that mindset—he no longer viewed it with judgment. The difference was: before, he believed his merit would surely earn respect; now, he himself doubted it.

Here, Wang Yan's authority meant everyone had to listen—not because they feared being scolded, but because refusing to comply meant difficulty getting leave, and disobedience was unacceptable.

Thanks to Cao Army Supervisor's cooperation, the case was resolved quickly—only a few days. Since it involved attempted homicide, the process was still slow, but within a week, the official notice came out: Bao Daquan awarded a Seventh-Class Merit, Xia Jie commended once. The victim's clue was discovered by Xia Jie—if she hadn't found it early, and they'd waited until after arresting Cao Army Supervisor to interrogate him, the victim might have died.

"So today going to your mother-in-law's still isn't going well?"

Of course we could investigate them—it's not impossible—but it would take effort, and it's not urgent enough to wait through the night…

Now it's completed crime—Cao Army Supervisor's four-four-four is definitely execution. Armed robbery and murder, grave nature, practically certain death.

Wang Yan pulled out his own Maotai, grinning as he twisted open the cap: "Have some?"

Since he's going to prison anyway, it's a good escape. What happens after release? Who knows. But right now, Cao Army Supervisor doesn't need to be so anxious.

With everything settled, Wang Suozhang Suo had no more energy to pick faults.

As for Song Ning scolding him and making him lose face—it didn't matter. After all, the incident had happened, and he'd already processed it himself. Besides, who in the station hasn't been scolded by Song Ning?

Having received the Seventh-Class Merit, Bao Daquan, just as in the original plot, happily went home, showed his beautiful wife the Seventh-Class Merit badge, and the couple joyfully enjoyed their moment of glory.

After so long in the station, how could he not know Song Ning's character? He was absolutely fair, upright, and righteous. In fact, over these past few months, Wang Yan had only scolded him personally. Everyone else in the station had been scolded by Wang Yan at least once—his words weren't pleasant, but they always related to cases, the people, their investigative methods, and ideological awareness. He just scolded him the hardest.

Song Ning listened with a smile, occasionally offering him some wisdom. He understood Bao Daquan's meaning—he wouldn't hold a grudge against Bao Daquan. As long as he improved, it was enough—he didn't need to worry.

Coincidentally, Wang Yan, who had just returned from a day of community visits, came back to the station and saw Bao Daquan sitting at his desk, fiddling with his computer, looking distracted.

"Don't mention it. When I first went over there, she gave me the cold shoulder. Only when I brought up serious business did she respond—it's your brother-in-law who owes money and got sued, labeled a dishonest enterprise, his company account frozen, and he's been restricted from spending—no high-speed trains, no flights. He wants you to find someone to get his name removed from the list. Don't say you don't have the power—even if you did, I wouldn't dare do it."

The emotional drop was hard to bear, but it made him realize just how hopeless his mother-in-law was, and finally killed any hope of gaining status in her home. After all, she only cares about money. Even if I became director of the Gongan Bureau, how much salary could I earn? I do have power, but as Wang Yan said, my mother-in-law needs me to pull her up.

"You're not scolding me, are you? Low-class food? Can you eat it?" Song Ning waved his hand. "Wait for me to change clothes, then let's go."

After another argument, Bao Daquan, heartbroken and somewhat despairing, returned home with his wife and child. The family of four had a meal, celebrated Bao Daquan's honor, and then life returned to its usual rhythm—colorful, yet happy.

His beautiful wife, just as in the original plot, quarreled with her mother, even threatening never to set foot in the house again. Of course, she'd said such things before. After all, the mother-in-law had looked down on Bao Daquan for far longer than a day or two—they'd had countless big and small fights.

Add to that his job's constant busyness—there was never a quiet moment—so Bao Daquan grew bored after spending half a day at home. By evening, with nothing to do, he returned to the station, hoping to find someone to chat with.

"I quit drinking."

Song Ningbo slowly understood Wang Yan's good intentions and had long wanted to mend their relationship. But as an older woman, she found it hard to speak up, so she'd never fully opened up. Of course, she knew Wang Yan didn't care—he was 'genuine,' treating everyone the same. Still, she couldn't help feeling uneasy about it, and couldn't quite let it go.

Wang Yan had only seven merit badges so far. Of course, if he worked ten or fourteen years, he might even fill his sleeves with them. It's not that merit is hard to earn—even his seven badges are beyond what most comrades achieve in a lifetime, yet he earned them in less than half a year. Ultimately, he's just too outstanding…

Bao Daquan smiled in response—their relationship was fully mended, and he finally relaxed.

Still following his beautiful wife's wishes, he wore his uniform and pinned the Seventh-Class Merit badge to his chest—it looked lonely. But in truth, even one Seventh-Class Merit is hard to earn; merits aren't easily won. People with their chests completely covered in badges are rare.

Naturally, his mother-in-law didn't disappoint him—just as in the original plot, she greeted him coldly, spoke ill of him, and lavished praise, making Bao Daquan feel a sense of satisfaction he'd never known, as if reborn. But then, when she asked him to use his connections to remove his brother-in-law Sun Moguang from the restricted list, Bao Daquan's heart plummeted.

"Let's go. Come back tomorrow to check the situation. Hurry home and change your clothes—this bloodstained uniform, look at how the public will view us—it's frightening."

People rarely realize their own happiness until it's gone. If Wang Yan hadn't scolded him harshly, Bao Daquan wouldn't have realized how good his life was. But human laziness ensures such feelings don't last long. Bao Daquan cherished it, but after so many years together, having even a short time to recognize his happiness was rare—most of the time, people simply don't realize they're in bliss.

Not just others—even Wang Suozhang Suo, the political instructor, the chief, and Cheng Suo—all were scolded by Wang Yan. He was just a bit more tactful with them, giving them some face—but that's because they're direct superiors, not because of rank. As far as I know, even personnel from the branch and municipal bureaus have been scolded—he shows zero mercy, even to leaders.

This time, by seizing the opportunity to speak openly, he finally felt better.

"I'm used to being busy—I can't stand idleness. Nothing to do, so I came back to see if anyone had time to treat everyone to dinner and relax. But everyone's busy." He hesitated, then asked, "You finished your visits—if you're free, let's go out to eat? I know you don't need a meal, but let me show my gratitude—not just for the Seventh-Class Merit, but for scolding me again. I truly understand now."

Wang Yan simply changed his inner shirt—he still wore his winter undergarments—and drove out with Bao Daquan to the braised meat shop.

Wang Yan grinned and followed Wang Suozhang Suo back to the Siwaihe Police Station, changed clothes again, then continued leading the auxiliary police on patrol…

After all, Song Ningbo owed over a million in gambling debts—the police just shut down the gambling and loaning den, instantly adding tens of thousands to his account. The remaining money? He used his own legitimate loans—there was no way around it. He was guilty of attempted intentional homicide, plus body disposal and other aggravating factors. Even with mitigation, he'd get at least ten years. The remaining tens of thousands? He'd just keep them.

Bao Daquan wasn't reconciling with Wang Mou—he was reconciling with himself…

The shop was small, and few people were inside—most bought ready-made food to take away. They ordered a mixed platter: pork head meat, braised beef, pig's trotters, chicken feet, peanuts, and more—all jumbled together.

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