Chapter 867: Black Stocking Pulled Over the Head

Three million in activity funds? Yang Qing knew he couldn't get it. He had no other motive; he just wanted to disgust that pretentious fool. Seeing the fool's imagined look of getting beaten made it feel worth it.

He walked out of the municipal building.

Yang Qing opened his arms and embraced the sunlight pouring over him; this blazing sun was really fucking hot as fire, instantly making his cheeks burn.

The task force's Xiao Ma came up to meet him: "Director Yang, where are we going?"

"Zhou Zheng's home." Yang Qing replied without hesitation.

Xiao Ma was somewhat surprised: "Now?"

"Now." Yang Qing stepped forward and walked toward the official vehicle in the parking lot.

"Shouldn't we visit his hometown first?" Xiao Ma followed closely behind Yang Qing.

Yang Qing walked and said: "What a pointless visit. Zhou Zheng, that old detective, since he dared to fabricate this lie about a fall, the section chief must have already arranged everything at his hometown. Going now just means listening to his relatives recite their lines. You don't dare to subject him to chili‑oil tiger bench, so in the end you'll just ask pointless questions and make a wasted trip."

Xiao Ma nodded, half‑understanding.

Yang Qing flicked the ash from his fingertip, then as soon as he got in the car he closed his eyes to rest, looking like a big shot who had just entered the ministry. He didn't dare ask further, and drove off in an orderly manner.

Zhou Zheng's home is in a resettlement compound in East City, a six‑story building without an elevator.

Fortunately, Zhou Zheng lives on the first floor.

He knocked on the door.

The door was opened by a woman in her thirties, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. Seeing two strangers at the door, she blinked and asked, "Who are you looking for?"

"Are you the sister‑in‑law?"

Yang Qing pulled out his work ID, smiling like a neighborly older brother: "I'm Yang Qing from the Provincial Public Security Department, a colleague of Zhou Zheng. I happened to be passing by and came up to say hello."

The woman immediately let down her guard, warm and enthusiastic: "Oh, it's Director Yang! I wondered why you looked so familiar. I've often heard my old Zhou talk about you. Please come in and have a seat…"

"Thank you, sister‑in‑law."

After Yang Qing entered the house, his eyes swept over everything in view like a scanner.

The house isn't big—two bedrooms and a living room—and it's a bit messy. A few copies of Public Security Weekly lay on the coffee table, and the cluttered sofa had a piece of clothing and a child's cloth doll tossed on it.

"Where's the daughter?" Yang Qing asked.

The sister‑in‑law quickly tidied the messy sofa: "The kid's at her grandmother's; we've been busy these days. My old Zhou is hospitalized from his injury, I have to work, and I simply can't find time to look after the child. Please have a seat."

"That sounds tough on you."

Yang Qing nodded and sat down on the newly tidied sofa.

The sister‑in‑law poured tea enthusiastically: "Director Yang, you're a rare guest. Old Zhou often mentions you at home, saying you're friends who've been through life and death together. I've said I'd invite you for a meal sometime, but the chance never came up."

Yang Qing took the cup, smiling sincerely: "Sister‑in‑law, you're too polite. Old Zhou is great in every way—just too busy. This time he can finally rest a few days."

"Rest? Even lying in the hospital he's not at peace." The sister‑in‑law complained: "You don't know—he can't sit still, calling every day to ask about the case. I told you, with you like this, why worry about it?"

Yang Qing nodded.

He then probed gently about the case: "Sister‑in‑law, how exactly did Old Zhou get this injury?"

The sister‑in‑law plopped down opposite him, putting her spatula on the coffee table: "It's just because he drank too much! That day he went back to his hometown to see his daughter and drank with those relatives without limit. On the way back he could barely walk, fell headfirst into a stinking ditch, and smashed his head on a stone. You tell me—what age is he still acting like this?"

Yang Qing shook his head in agreement: "Old Zhou's drinking really needs to be kept in check."

"No kidding." The sister‑in‑law grew angrier as she spoke: "I've told him over and over to drink less, but he won't listen. This time he's split his skull open and needed seven or eight stitches."

Yang Qing lifted his cup, took a sip, and casually asked: "What time did he come back that day?"

"Pretty late—I forget the exact time." The sister‑in‑law said: "I was already asleep when he called, saying he'd fallen and was lying in the hospital."

Yang Qing's eyebrows twitched slightly as he thought, "This is a perfect alibi—watertight!"

In order to put her at ease.

Yang Qing casually added: "Sister‑in‑law, you've got it rough too—you have to work and now you still have to go to the hospital to look after Old Zhou."

"Ah, life's hard—marrying him means never getting a break." The sister‑in‑law rose: "Director Yang, please sit a moment; I'm going to the balcony to bring in the laundry—looks like it's going to rain."

Yang Qing nodded: "Sure, sister‑in‑law, you do your thing."

Outside, the sky was overcast with dark clouds.

It really looked like it was going to rain.

Yang Qing lifted his cup and sipped slowly, his gaze wandering around the room. A laundry basket beside the sofa held a pile of clothes, with a man's shirt on top.

Suddenly.

From the balcony came the sister‑in‑law's shouting: "Which brainless dog, so obsessed with women it's gone crazy?! It even stole a stocking!"

Yang Qing nearly spat out his mouthful of water.

He set down his cup and wiped his mouth.

The tirade on the balcony continued: "I just bought a new pair of stockings a couple of days ago, washed and hung them out here, and today only one is left! Does the other one supposedly grow wings and fly away? You shameless dog! If you're going to steal, steal something valuable! With all that imagination, why not go steal a person? Stealing a person would be much more substantial…"

"……!!!"

This explosive tirade truly shocked Yang Qing's worldview.

Before, he really didn't know that Zhou Zheng's wife was such a fiery woman—over a single missing stocking she was practically ready to nail the culprit to a pillar of shame and whip the corpse.

Yang Qing rose and walked to the balcony door.

All he saw was the sister‑in‑law standing with her hands on her hips under the drying rack, holding up a black stocking, her face blazing with endless anger.

On the same rack nearby hung her underwear and panties.

This left Yang Qing a bit puzzled: if someone truly had a fetish and reached into her balcony, why steal only the stocking and not the underwear?

They're both black lace—aren't the underwear even more tempting?

Yang Qing dismissed the thoughts and stepped forward: "Sister‑in‑law, what's wrong?"

"Director Yang, look at this—what kind of thing is this?! A perfectly good stocking, and someone went and stole one of them!" The sister‑in‑law turned around and thrust the black stocking toward Yang Qing's eyes.

Yang Qing took the stocking and examined it closely.

It was easy to see that the sister‑in‑law was a woman of taste; the stocking felt fine, black, thin, with lace trim, exuding a mature charm that knew exactly what men like.

However……

This seemingly familiar stocking quickly made Yang Qing picture the scene—the masked man Zhao Linlin had described, the black hood he wore while committing the crime—wasn't this exactly it?

Yang Qing asked: "Sister‑in‑law, when did you throw away this sock?"

"Just these past two days!" the sister‑in‑law said angrily: "I've had this load of laundry sitting for several days, and these past days I've had to go to work and then to the hospital to look after Old Zhou, so busy I haven't had time to collect the clothes. I never expected there to be such a pervert in our neighborhood, stealing people's stockings! Next time I'll smear rat poison on them and see if he still dares to steal…"

"!!!"

Yang Qing was left speechless, a black line appearing on his forehead.

This time he wasn't shocked by his sister‑in‑law's vengeful heart, but by the possible truth.

According to the sister‑in‑law, before Zhou Zheng was hospitalized, this stocking had already been hung out here. In other words, this might not be the thief's handiwork, but Zhou Zheng casually picking up a black stocking.

Using his wife's black stocking as a hood!

Damn it!

"Old Zhou, Old Zhou, brother I really underestimated you—I never thought you were so poor you couldn't even afford a hood… wait, you're not poor, you're just a miser!"

Yang Qing decisively picked up the stocking: "Sister‑in‑law, don't be angry. Leave finding the thief to me. I'll take this remaining sock back to investigate."

"Director Yang, it's embarrassing to trouble you, the bureau chief, with such a small case." The sister‑in‑law laughed, feeling flattered: "Let's have a meal here tonight; I'll cook two dishes."

Yang Qing glanced at Little Horse still sitting in the living room—what a big light bulb.

He couldn't help feeling a bit regretful: "Thank you, sister‑in‑law, but no need for a meal; I have work to attend to, so I can't stay long."