Chapter 10: It Would Be Misunderstood

If it were anyone else, they would have scolded Yu Dazhang long ago—how dare a disciple give orders to his master?

But Lu Zhongxin was different; no matter who the person was, if it concerned work, he took it seriously.

Seeing Yu Dazhang in such a flustered state, he didn’t even ask questions—he immediately called the First Squad.

Under these circumstances, contacting the squad leader directly was undoubtedly the most efficient approach.

For other departments, you typically had to report upward first, then wait for higher-ups to coordinate with peers.

The Criminal Investigation Squad didn’t work that way—this was the place where efficiency mattered most.

“Lao Lu, what’s wrong?” came Wei Qian’s urgent voice through the receiver.

Lu Zhongxin repeated Yu Dazhang’s words verbatim.

“How do you know the hostage has already woken up?”

“Because I know exactly how she fainted,” Lu Zhongxin replied evasively, steering the focus back:

“Go ask quickly.”

After hanging up, Lu Zhongxin paused in thought, then walked over to Yu Dazhang and asked:

“Do you suspect it’s someone they know?”

Any veteran detective in the Criminal Investigation Squad, like Lu Zhongxin, was no fool.

They could pick up clues from fragments of speech and make swift judgments.

This wasn’t a place for life-long job security—those lacking ability had long been transferred elsewhere.

You didn’t even need someone to force you out.

If you weren’t cut out for it, after a few cases you’d ask to be transferred yourself.

“It’s not suspicion anymore—I’ve basically confirmed it.”

Yu Dazhang pointed to the section in the case file describing Qu Tuotuo being picked up at the airport:

“She was kidnapped right after returning to the country, still inside the airport.”

“And she was taken without resistance, meaning the kidnapper must have said something to earn her trust.”

“Like, ‘Someone told me to pick you up,’ and that ‘someone’ was definitely someone she trusted deeply.”

“The case file also mentions the ransom demand was twenty million.”

“Master, put all this together—do you still think this case is random?”

Lu Zhongxin listened silently to his disciple’s analysis, then combined it with his own judgment—the more he thought, the more certain he became this was a premeditated crime.

Take the ransom amount alone—it was twenty million.

Across the entire country, how many people could suddenly come up with twenty million?

You’d need at least a hundred million in assets to manage it.

How could the kidnappers be so precise, locking onto Qu Tuotuo, a super-rich second-generation, right in the middle of a crowded airport?

“Maybe someone sold the news of Qu Tuotuo’s return to the kidnappers,” Lu Zhongxin offered another possibility.

“Maybe,” Yu Dazhang said, saying no more.

He guessed the First Squad was already questioning Qu Tuotuo by now.

If she recognized even one of the four kidnappers, the case would be solved.

Perhaps the First Squad had already found that familiar face among the four.

Yu Dazhang sighed heavily, then looked out the window.

Night was falling, the sun had set—he was starving.

Another five minutes passed when Lu Zhongxin’s phone rang.

He listened, grunted twice, then stepped out into the hallway.

He didn’t say what he said outside, but when he returned, he handed his phone to Yu Dazhang.

“Wei Qian wants to speak with you.”

So he sold me out already… Yu Dazhang took the phone to his ear:

“Hello?”

“What else did you deduce?” Wei Qian’s tone was impatient.

“Nothing else—I have limited information; that’s all my ability can reach.”

It wasn’t modesty—Yu Dazhang was simply telling the truth.

Solving a case just by reading a file? Even fantasy novels wouldn’t go that far. Just finding new clues was already good enough.

“Aren’t you curious what the victim said?”

“If she recognized any of the four kidnappers, you wouldn’t have called back my master.”

At this point, further questions from Wei Qian were pointless.

He realized Yu Dazhang didn’t want to get involved in this case anymore.

After ending the call, Lu Zhongxin took back the phone:

“Da Zhang, I know what you mean, but if you can help, try to help—we’re all in the same brigade.”

Yu Dazhang sat in his chair and stretched out with a huge yawn:

“Aaaaaaaaaaah~”

The sight made Lu Zhongxin feel sleepy too.

“Are you really that tired from walking a few steps? Sit up straight.”

Yu Dazhang twisted his waist two more times before saying:

Please... collect... 6...9...books...!

“All our brigade’s elites are in the First Squad—we can only offer a heads-up; we can’t really help. Butting in would only make people think we’re trying to steal credit.”

“You see things clearly,” Lu Zhongxin nodded.

He knew Yu Dazhang was right—but this kind of talk could only be muttered behind closed doors.

This disciple looked so simple-minded, yet he had layers of cunning underneath.

Fine—having some strategy wasn’t a bad thing; better than being clueless.

When he got home that night, Yu Dazhang looked at the dinner his mother had prepared and immediately felt ravenous.

After washing up and sitting down, he devoured half a bowl of rice before asking:

“Mom, where’s Dad?”

“Your dad’s working overtime today—don’t wait for him,” Li Xuehe said, ladling rice into his bowl.

Yu Dazhang waved his chopsticks:

“Mom, don’t serve me more—I’m only eating this one bowl tonight. I’ve decided to lose weight.”

He’d wanted to for a long time, but never gotten around to it.

This extra fat was too much of a hindrance, especially as a detective—always moving arms and legs.

“Lose weight? Lose weight?” Li Xuehe placed the full bowl in front of him:

“Listen to your mother—eat and drink as you should. If being a cop’s too tiring, we’ll switch jobs.”

“Mom, you’ve changed.”

Yu Dazhang sighed, picked up the freshly served rice, and kept eating.

His mother in his past life never spoiled him like this.

Back then, dinner rarely had more than two dishes—new food one day, leftovers the next, endlessly repeating.

Since his rebirth, that cycle had been broken.

Every day: four dishes and a soup, Li Xuehe changing recipes constantly for him.

If she noticed he disliked any dish, she’d replace it immediately—never serving it again.

Yu Dazhang even began to wonder if he’d been adopted in his past life.

Otherwise, how could the treatment be so different?

“Son, seriously—why don’t you quit being a cop?” Li Xuehe looked at Yu Dazhang with serious intent:

“Even if you want to stay, switch departments—detective work is too dangerous.”

This wasn’t the first time his mother had urged him—he was tired of hearing it.

He swallowed his rice and replied casually:

“Our squad’s main job is anti-pickpocketing—it’s not dangerous. Besides, thieves will keep decreasing while scams keep increasing.”

Yu Dazhang had been reborn from 2024—he knew the future trends, especially regarding crime.

Soon enough, thieves would find their lives increasingly difficult.

Big appliances were too risky to steal, and valuable gold or jewelry were rare.

With electronic payments spreading, cash would shrink—and stolen phones could be tracked.

In short: there was almost nothing left worth stealing.

For a while, stealing electric bike batteries became the trend.

There was a guy who stole batteries and got arrested—then became famous overnight, stage name: Qie·Gewara.

His debut declaration: “I’ll never work—that’s impossible for me my whole life…”

(End of Chapter)