Chapter 33: Don

The three went to the police station and directly found the officer investigating Zhang Yan’s disappearance.

After a brief exchange, the officer detailed the case’s progress, then handed a file to Lu Zhongxin:

“All records from the initial report are here.”

As Lu Zhongxin took it, the officer seemed to remember something and pointed at the file:

“There’s a CD inside—I copied the road surveillance footage from the day Zhang Yan vanished.”

After speaking, he watched as Lu Zhongxin passed the file to the fat man beside him.

And that clearly new recruit casually began flipping through it as if no one else were there.

To him, it felt as if the fat man were the real leader.

What kind of tactic is this?

Has the criminal investigation team started letting rookies lead veterans now?

Judging by the two men’s behavior, they were clearly waiting for the fat man to finish reading the file.

Just as he was baffled, Yu Dazhang suddenly looked up at him:

“Due to time constraints, we won’t be returning—let’s use your computer.”

As he spoke, Yu Dazhang held up the CD and waved it.

Someone must be confused.

Even in 2014, CDs were outdated—many computer hosts no longer had optical drives.

Why not use a USB drive? It’s more convenient.

If you’re confused, congratulations—you’ve never been involved in a lawsuit.

Audiovisual evidence can be stored on other media, but CDs remain the most widely used.

They offer better compatibility, stability, longer storage life, and are easier to copy and distribute, aiding long-term preservation.

These traits are unmatched by USB drives.

When you eventually need to submit evidence in court, your lawyer will tell you: audiovisual materials must be submitted on CD.

Within the system, this is even more critical—evidence must be preserved long-term.

If one day you retrieve evidence and find the storage device damaged, people will inevitably suspect foul play.

At that point, you’d have no way to prove your innocence.

So any officer with case experience always prefers CDs for storing data.

The three then followed the officer into an office.

“Use this computer—I often use it to check records,” the officer said, pointing to a desktop.

“Thank you.” Yu Dazhang pulled out a chair and sat down, then turned to him:

“If there’s nothing else, could you assist us with the investigation?”

He really is the leader… The moment Yu Dazhang sat down, the officer froze.

Now suddenly questioned, the officer snapped back to attention:

“Oh, right, no problem—the superior already instructed me to fully cooperate with you.”

“Thank you for your help.” Yu Dazhang said, inserting the CD into the drive.

After some operations, a video window popped up on the screen.

The time stamp matched the afternoon five days ago when Zhang Yan vanished.

This makes things much easier… Yu Dazhang felt a quiet surge of relief.

Clearly, this officer was thorough—he’d only copied the key surveillance clips onto the CD.

This saved a lot of time searching through footage.

It was a surveillance video from outside the school gate, the camera directly facing the entrance.

It clearly showed Zhang Yan walking out.

At the moment she stepped out of the gate, one motion caught Yu Dazhang’s attention.

She turned her head back, staring for two full seconds—as if searching for someone.

When she turned forward again, Yu Dazhang saw on her face what looked like the guilty expression of someone caught doing something wrong.

Then she shifted her bag to her chest and pulled out a phone.

Yu Dazhang focused intently on Zhang Yan’s hands.

She was powering it on.

That earlier glance now made sense—she was checking if any teacher was behind her.

Schools prohibit phones, especially high schools, where enforcement is stricter.

Since Zhang Yan was focused on her phone, her walking pace naturally slowed.

Just before she exited the surveillance zone, she swiftly swiped her phone screen a few times.

Whatever she saw, her hand suddenly stopped.

Then she kept staring at the screen as she walked out of frame.

“I’ve sorted all the surveillance videos,” the officer explained after the video ended.

“The first segment is leaving school; the next is her route home…”

As he spoke, he placed his hand on the mouse, ready to open the second clip.

“Wait.” Yu Dazhang stopped his hand:

“I need to watch this segment again—fast-forward to the last five seconds.” “Alright.”

The officer nodded and complied.

“Again—last five seconds.”

“Alright.”

“Again…”

After watching three more times, Yu Dazhang had a rough conclusion.

After powering on, the swipes and taps were likely checking for missed calls and messages on messaging apps.

That wasn’t the key point—what made Yu Dazhang replay it three times was Zhang Yan’s changing expression.

The time was too short, and the video resolution was low, so details weren’t clear.

He needed to review repeatedly to distinguish each subtle expression.

The moment she stopped moving her hand, her face carried a faint smile.

That meant the person who sent the message wasn’t disliked—she even liked them a little.

Please... Shoucang 6...9... Shu .... Ba ....！

But the next instant, her expression shifted rapidly—from a faint smile to confusion and bewilderment.

In the final second before leaving the frame, she frowned slightly in annoyance.

Her gaze held traces of dissatisfaction, even a hint of disappointment.

What a rich range of expressions… Yu Dazhang leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, as if deep in thought.

Girl, you really made things hard for yourself—five seconds, enough for a palace intrigue drama.

There’s a song with perfect lyrics.

“Don’t try to guess a girl’s heart—you’ll never understand no matter how hard you try.”

Now Yu Dazhang had no choice but to guess.

Since the sender didn’t disgust Zhang Yan, her emotional shift must stem from the message’s content.

What content could make her go from happiness to confusion, then to annoyance, and finally to disappointment?

Hit a wall—damn… Yu Dazhang was worst at guessing a girl’s thoughts.

In two lifetimes, he’d never been a player.

In his past life, he’d never even married—he’d always been single.

He’d dated in school, but all relationships were brief.

Past-life Yu Dazhang was truly shy, introverted, and clueless about pleasing girls.

Later, as a police officer, he lost both the will and the time.

No choice—he had to ask for outside help.

“What could make a girl’s expression change so rapidly within seconds?”

He wasn’t alone—he had people right beside him.

Qian Cheng and Lu Zhongxin exchanged glances, both wearing puzzled expressions.

The officer was at least somewhat reliable—he looked like he was thinking.

Two minutes later.

“Speak up!”

Yu Dazhang noticed their expressions changed more frequently than Zhang Yan’s in the video.

“Don’t know,” Lu Zhongxin said, looking just as lost.

“Can’t think of anything,” Qian Cheng’s face twisted in frustration.

The officer simply gave a helpless “sorry” look.

Perfect—a room full of terminal straight-male syndrome… Yu Dazhang sighed helplessly:

“Play the next segment.”

It wasn’t that Yu Dazhang was being obsessive—during evidence collection, no detail could be overlooked.

Why can some people solve major cases repeatedly, while others can’t even finish their internship in the criminal investigation unit?

Ultimately, it all comes down to control over details.

If, during an investigation, you can spot details others miss, even if you ultimately fail to solve the case, the criminal investigation unit will still treasure you.

Because experienced detectives know well: the key to solving a case lies in identifying the critical point.

The following video was recorded by Zhang Yan while returning home, passing by a shop.

In the video, Zhang Yan holds her phone to her ear, walking and talking on the call.

Finally, something in my strength… Yu Dazhang couldn’t help but smile.

That’s why you should keep learning—each new skill gives you an edge over others.

Girl, I hope your lip-reading isn’t too complicated.

(End of chapter)