Chapter 354: Jianghu Matters, Jianghu Ends

White walls, red slogans.

The walls are slick, without any place to get a grip.

The window is narrow, white frost congeals on the glass, and the stainless steel bars cast a cold glint.

Everything is very familiar, yet it also carries a few traces of strangeness.

This is not the first time Wang Chun has come to such a place; from the first time she was imprisoned at sixteen until now, it has been a full forty years.

In this life, nearly half of her years have been accompanied only by iron doors, iron windows, and iron chains.

But it is different from any time before: this time, it is impossible to get out again—

"Clang—" The sound of a lock opening comes from outside, and Wang Chun lifts her head woodenly.

Two policewomen enter the cell: "021, interrogation!"

Wang Chun glances coldly, not moving at all.

The two policewomen are quite helpless.

The detention center fears this type the most: the crime she committed is a capital offense, there is no chance of luck, and it is bound to be the death penalty. Her body is also in terrible condition, like a coffin, not far from death.

Moreover, whenever she falls ill, she is in excruciating pain; her desire for death even exceeds her desire to survive.

What is more critical is that there are too many clues hanging on her, and she must be made to speak.

So, she has been locked up for a week, with basically three interrogations a day, but the number of times Wang Chun has cooperated can be counted on one hand. Even if she goes, she just sits there; no matter what you ask, she refuses to open her mouth.

It seems today will be the same—

In a flash, the young policewoman knits her brows, just about to say something, but the older one shakes her head.

"Wang Chun, the superiors have agreed to your request, let's go!"

Wang Chun still does not move, only lifting her eyelids: "Agreed to which one?"

"The request was made by you to the Pre-trial Group; I don't know specifically which one it is!"

Wang Chun is silent; she made many requests, but she knows very well that only one or two could be agreed to.

Then which one should it be?

Subconsciously, a young voice emerges in her mind: My surname is Lin, Lin Sicheng.

Suddenly, Wang Chun's spirit lifts; she stands up and takes the initiative to extend her hands.

The young policewoman looks strange: she is actually this cooperative today?

Usually, it takes three scoldings and five lectures, and sometimes one even has to say nice things to coax her, but today not a single word was needed?

But this is a good thing.

The two nimbly apply the Handcuffs and fasten the leg chains.

Then, "Clang-clang—clang-clang—"

The sound is extremely loud, and the corridor is extremely long; they pass through three doors and walk for a full five minutes.

It is the same interrogation room, with two layers inside and out, separated by a fence in the middle, the ceiling is unusually high, the corners of the room are filled with cameras, and four people are sitting behind the table, one more than yesterday.

Three are familiar faces, seen many times before, but only one is currently looking down, writing and drawing.

She cannot see the face, but just looking at the build and attire, she knows they are very young.

Wang Chun narrows her eyes: Is it this one?

But why is there no police uniform?

Just as she is guessing, the policewoman opens the baffle of the interrogation chair and lets her sit inside.

With a "Clang," Lin Sicheng lifts his head.

Four eyes meet, gazes cross, and Lin Sicheng smiles slightly: "Wang Zhiguo, we meet again!"

Wang Chun is slightly stunned: That's right, it is this voice; even if he turned to ash, she would not forget it.

But why is he so familiar?

In an instant, she remembers the moment before she was caught, the sentence the other party said on the phone: Wang Zhiguo, we have met—

They must have met; Wang Chun is very certain of this, but it has been too long, and she cannot recall it no matter what.

She recalls, trying hard to recall, but the impression remains blurry.

She looks again at the face in front of her: the features are handsome, the eyebrows slant upward, the corners of the eyes are slightly restrained, yet they are as sharp as if carved by a knife.

The eyes are gentle, but deep inside, a sharp light is faintly visible; there is a smile on his face, yet it hides a sharpness like a blade drawn from its Lock.

Wang Chun likes reading physiognomy books and also likes reading people; the books say: Dragon eyes gradually closing, hiding resolve and containing might. Sharp light hidden under the cheekbones, schemes deep and myriad, red light piercing the forehead, causing mountains to collapse.

Soft on the outside and hard on the inside, with wisdom to cut through great weight.

If this were a chaotic age, this would be the typical face of an ambitious hero.

But the problem is: if she had looked at this face carefully, she would definitely not have forgotten it. But no matter how she recalls, there is still no impression?

Seeing her frowning and pondering, Lin Sicheng takes out a copper coin and flicks it lightly, and it begins to spin on the table.

"Whirrr—"

Following the sound, memories are like a kaleidoscope, countless images surging in her mind.

But Wang Chun's brows knit even tighter: still no impression?

The copper coin spins slower and slower, the sound gets quieter and quieter, and with a "Clang," the sound disappears completely.

The character side faces up, glowing with the unique treasure-light of an heirloom antique coin, the patina smooth and bright, purple translucent with red.

Qianlong Tongbao, Xinjiang Red Coin?

Suddenly, Wang Chun's eyes brighten, her gaze like a knife, nailed to Lin Sicheng's face.

The twenty-second of the eighth month, Panjiayuan—

She intercepted Ma Shan's goods and set a trap on the side. At that time, three men and two women, this was one of them—

In an instant, countless threads emerge from her mind, intertwining, tangling, and twisting into a ball.

Wang Chun's eyes slowly widened, flickering between bright and dim.

So, had she been targeted by the Police back then?

She hadn't been caught unjustly.

She let out a scoff, a bitter smile appearing on her face: "So, it was the Police?"

The two interrogators exchanged a glance: She had actually spoken on her own?

It had been a week, with over twenty interrogations back and forth; they had used every method they could think of, but the results were negligible.

Every time Wang Chun sat there, no matter how you asked or what you asked, she would neither speak nor move. Never mind a confession, she wouldn't even offer an expression.

From start to finish, she had probably said fewer than ten sentences, mostly because she was interrogated until she was impatient and couldn't sit still: I'm tired—I'm hungry—I need to go to the bathroom—

Today was definitely unprecedented: not only did she speak voluntarily the moment she came in, but her expressions were so rich?

Sure enough, one had to prescribe the right medicine for the illness.

The two Experts were invigorated, but immediately after, they looked disappointed again: for some reason, Wang Chun had returned to that indifferent, disheartened state.

From then on, she would be like a clay statue, not moving or speaking; no matter how you asked, she would just sit there.

Until she couldn't sit still, or worse, started having an episode. The key was, you didn't dare not let her leave?

Next door, a group of people stared at the surveillance screen.

Yu Guang, Han Xin, Sun Liancheng, and even the General Captain.

These individuals sat around, and in the middle was another person whose shoulder insignia was not bars, but an olive branch.

He looked at Wang Chun on the left screen, then at Lin Sicheng on the right, half-doubting: "Old Li, is this method of yours effective?"

The General Captain was also feeling a bit uncertain.

If Ma Shan was a tough nut to crack, then Wang Chun was a piece of dead meat, rotten to the point of having no attachments and no will to live.

Her immediate family had long been sent abroad by her, and she herself was riddled with illness, the kind that couldn't be cured. To her, getting caught was no different from waiting to die. Rather than being tortured by pain every day, it was better to die sooner.

For a criminal like this, conventional methods were useless.

"Leader, let's just watch for now—"

That was all they could do—just watch.

The interrogation room was very quiet: Wang Chun sat motionless, as if lost in thought. The two interrogators and one Clerk looked at each other, then at Lin Sicheng on the far side.

He would write a few strokes from time to time, and occasionally flip through the papers he had written on before.

This was him clutching at straws, having asked the General Team's psychological Expert for advice to create a profile for Wang Chun.

Whether it was useful or not, he didn't know; in the General Captain's words: "Anyway, you're idle, and there's no loss, so try it first—"

After writing for a while longer, Lin Sicheng looked up: "Chief Wang, are you very disappointed?"

Wang Chun didn't speak, not even lifting her eyelids.

"You must have been very curious before: a twenty-something appraiser, not only with top-tier eyesight but also such seasoned underworld experience, and prestige so high it had no bounds, that you could actually make a powerful figure like Zhao Xiuneng follow your every word?"

"But the moment I sat here—oh no, the moment you were handcuffed, you suddenly realized: what kind of expert, it was all arranged by the Police?"

"Panjiayuan wasn't a coincidence, Ma Shan's arrest wasn't accidental, my acquaintance with Ren Danhua wasn't a coincidence either, including the few antiques I restored in front of Ren Danhua and the Yu siblings, and pointing out the secret plants you arranged at Xidan Shopping Mall, it was all deliberately designed—"

"Including my identity: appraisal expert, restoration expert, nephew of Yang Bin, star pupil of Zhao Laotai, junior fellow apprentice of Zhao Xiuneng, all fake—"

Wang Chun finally had a bit of an expression, staring fixedly at him.

"If I say no, you definitely won't believe me, so let me tell you something you'll be more interested in!" Lin Sicheng smiled, "I'm not Police!"

Wang Chun was stunned, then let out a "scoff," as if to say: Keep lying, keep lying.

"Really!" Lin Sicheng nodded with a serious air, then lifted his collar: "Thanks to you, the day I met you, Ma Shan sent people to slash me!"

It was a long scar, slanting from his shoulder all the way to his chest. It was very fresh, clearly having scabbed over not long ago.

Wang Chun could even tell: this knife was meant to take his life; the person holding the knife intended to saw after slashing the neck, which was why the wound was so long.

But it was impossible: even if he were a Police undercover, who would risk their life to go undercover?

"Do you know how many people Ma Shan sent? Eighteen! If I said I fought eighteen alone, you definitely wouldn't believe me—"

"But if I said that, except for the identity of Yang Bin's nephew, everything else is true, would you believe me?"

"I know the Yuanliang Seal, I know the Dragon Gate Array, and I even know how to identify eyes (tomb seeking) and open wells—I suppose you don't believe that either!"

Wang Chun let out a "che."

The Yuanliang Seal could be memorized, the Dragon Gate Array could be learned, and as for Feng Shui tomb seeking, could he possibly find a desolate mountain and wilderness right now to demonstrate on the spot?

Just as she was secretly sneering, Lin Sicheng stood up, walked to the railing, and held out his two hands: "Then do you believe this?"

Wang Chun squinted, and then, her eyeballs bulged out sharply.

The fingers were very long, and the skin at the wrists was very fine and white, but the fingers and palms were very rough:

The backs of the fingers were like snakeskin, raised with fine, dense skin dander. The palm lines were very deep, as if cut by a small knife, covered with dark brown cracks on both sides.

This was from frequent contact with ancient porcelain, where lead glaze would leach out with sweat and corrode the skin.

The fingertips were green tinged with blue: this was from frequent contact with Bronze, where lead and copper rust had seeped into the flesh.

The nails were covered in fine white horizontal lines, and the edges were not only thick but also growing granulation tissue?

This was mercury residue: only Gold-gilding artifacts had it, but just touching them wouldn't do it; only frequent restoration, preparing Jin Red Flag at high temperatures, would cause this kind of mercury-toxic granulation to grow.

The key was that these things couldn't be faked; it required years and months of contact with antiques for the hands to become like this.

Calculating conservatively: if not seventeen or eighteen years, it had to be thirteen or fourteen.

Look at this face again: twenty, or twenty-one?

Knowing what she was thinking, Lin Sicheng smiled, "If I said I was holding antiques as toys when I was still on a pacifier, and learning appraisal while still wearing split-crotch pants, Chief Wang, would you believe me?"

"I can also do Artifact Restoration; like porcelain, except for the extremely rare ones, like Chai, Ru, and Jun Kiln, I can basically handle the rest. Like Bronze, this is even rarer, but relatively simple; I can basically do it all."

"I am most skilled at Enamel, I can fire it seven times and also apply it seven times. I know a little bit about Calligraphy and Painting too; as long as it isn't rotted into bran, I can basically restore it. Oh right, I can also mend gold and silver ware a little; of the eight golds of the Tang Dynasty, I know four—"

Wang Chun looked at his hands, as if wanting to say something. But the corners of her mouth twitched, and she closed them again.

Grave-robbing relies on a pair of hands, and Wang Chun is a master among masters, having been immersed in it for most of her life. She is at least clear on this: the marks on the pair of hands before her could not be forged even if one tried; she and Song Qiu spent nearly ten years and could only manage to make them look barely similar.

Specifically the fingernails: only when repairing gold artifacts would one use Jin Red Flag, and if one only used it occasionally, it would be impossible to grow mercury-toxic granulation tissue.

It is not certain about the four golds of the Tang Dynasty, but two golds would certainly be repaired.

The problem is, since one has this ability, who would become a Police officer?

"Mashan was interrogated by me, the Mu Mausoleum companion tomb was found by me, Yang Jisheng was persuaded by me, and the Treasury was located by me. Including Qi Hao and Qi Song, I watched them all get arrested—if I said all of this was done by me, you certainly wouldn't believe it—"

Hearing "Mu Mausoleum companion tomb" and "Yang Jisheng," Wang Chun raised her head and stared into Lin Sicheng's eyes.

"Boss Wang, you don't need to read my mind; you wouldn't be able to read it anyway." Lin Sicheng smiled: "It's also a coincidence, whatever you know, I happen to know a little bit of!"

"Including grave-robbing?"

"Yes, including grave-robbing! Of course, it has to be phrased differently: archaeology!"

"You aren't even a Police officer, yet you know so much and have done so much?" Wang Chun was half-believing and half-doubting, squinting her eyes, "What is this, a wandering detective?"

"Actually, I didn't expect that I would be so capable myself? So, people are forced into it: thanks to you, I almost lost my life, how could I just let it go like that?"

Lin Sicheng pointed to his neck, "Jianghu matters are settled in the Jianghu; it would be the same if it were Boss Wang!"

Wang Chun sneered: "You rely on the Police, what kind of Jianghu person are you?"

"The Jianghu also says that disaster should not reach one's wife and children, and crimes should not reach one's parents, but what Boss Wang likes most is killing an entire family!"

"The six people in the Mu Mausoleum were actually killed by you. Also, Ren Danhua's sister, and the parents of the siblings Yu Jichuan and Yu Jiyao, were also killed by you. What's even more ruthless is that you framed your enemies for it, and then helped them take revenge right in front of their faces—that's why these three siblings are so devoted to you and so grateful!"

Lin Sicheng sighed and gave a thumbs up: "High, truly high!"

Wang Chun's pupils suddenly constricted: "How do you know?"

Lin Sicheng smiled: "Aren't you able to read minds? Why don't you read mine?"

Wang Chun gritted her teeth: "I'll read your mother—"