Chapter 47: You Think You Can Trap Me? You

Zhou Zizhe ignored his teasing, instead staring intently at his face for several seconds.

“Have we met before?”

“Impossible.” Yu Dazhang had already wrestled with this thought; he waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t try to flatter me. Even if we did know each other, it wouldn’t help—you’re beyond saving now.”

He truly wanted to rush forward, grab Zhou Zizhe by the throat, and shake him violently.

Then shout at him: “Admit it—were you trying to trap me?!”

“No, I definitely know you from somewhere. My memory is excellent—I wouldn’t be wrong.”

After this, Zhou Zizhe’s voice grew quieter, and a thoughtful expression settled on his face:

“Where could I have seen you before… I shouldn’t be forgetting this…”

“Enough, enough. I don’t have time for your guessing games.” Yu Dazhang interrupted impatiently:

“Do you have a point or not? If you keep this up, we’ll replace you.”

As if those words had taken effect, Zhou Zizhe stopped dwelling on it, his eyes refocusing.

“Officer, you’re awfully young. How did you even become a detective with that weight?”

As if returning Yu Dazhang’s earlier teasing, Zhou Zizhe smiled and said:

“Let me guess—you joined first, then gained weight, right?”

“Wrong,” Yu Dazhang replied flatly.

“One last chance. If you keep wasting time with this nonsense, I’m walking out.”

He spoke with confidence—this was the police’s territory, not the suspect’s.

“Don’t rush. Allow me to confirm your identity,” Zhou Zizhe said, his smile gone, voice serious:

“Why isn’t it him?”

Yu Dazhang had anticipated this question; his expression darkened, and he snorted.

“Overconfident.”

“What do you mean?” Zhou Zizhe’s face changed; his tone grew abruptly urgent.

“He is him!” Yu Dazhang’s gaze was sharp:

“You’re trying to test how much I know—I’ll tell you plainly: I know everything about you.”

“Your motive for murder. Your initial plan after the killing.”

“You raised this question to mislead me into thinking Kong Lingjie didn’t know the truth—that he was tricked here.”

“You’re too childish. ‘He isn’t him’? Kong Lingjie knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Let me be clear—he is him. He is an accomplice in this case. He will go to prison.”

Pausing, Yu Dazhang took a deep breath and continued:

“At a time like this, you’re still trying to save one person after another—you’re beyond redemption.”

The interrogation room fell silent.

Across from him, Zhou Zizhe remained motionless, his gaze drifting, as if avoiding Yu Dazhang’s eyes—or lost in thought.

Beside him, Qian Cheng recorded notes while stealing glances at Yu Dazhang.

Being near him felt effortless—as if every scheme before him suddenly became simple.

About a minute later, Yu Dazhang spoke again:

“Why so quiet? Go on—I think you still have some fight left.”

Somehow, Zhou Zizhe’s eyes suddenly hardened, and his calm demeanor returned.

A faint, half-smile curled his lips as he looked at Yu Dazhang:

“Yes—it’s you. I never imagined the one who’d uncover my plan would be so young. I pictured my arrest by an old, seasoned detective.”

Still so full of himself… Yu Dazhang disliked his arrogance and snapped coldly:

“If you’re talking about youth, you’re even younger.”

“Different,” Zhou Zizhe said, studying the fat man before him with a hint of admiration:

“We’re on opposite sides—I’m the one setting the puzzle. You’re the one solving it. If we swapped places, I couldn’t have done what you did.”

As he spoke, his gaze dropped to Yu Dazhang’s shoulders.

“Two stripes?” He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, staring in disbelief at Yu Dazhang:

“You’re still a probationary officer?!”

“Was it hard to catch me?” Yu Dazhang replied in kind, matching his arrogance:

I already told you—you're overconfident. Dealing with someone like you, who's so arrogant, doesn't require an experienced detective.

“No need for a sledgehammer to kill a chicken. One probationary officer is enough.”

Qian Cheng, taking notes beside him, instinctively straightened his back. It felt so invigorating to hear.

He’d always thought Yu Dazhang was proud and conceited.

After all, his skills were undeniable—he had every right to be.

But he never expected that, in Yu Dazhang’s eyes, veteran officers like himself held such high regard.

“No need for a sledgehammer to kill a chicken”—it sounded so satisfying.

Zhou Zizhe was stunned by Yu Dazhang’s words, though his thoughts differed from Qian Cheng’s.

He was genuinely shocked by Yu Dazhang’s probationary officer status.

Had he truly been overconfident, underestimating today’s detectives?

No—he was bluffing!

Most detectives today graduated from police academies—and he himself was top of his class.

“You went to police academy too, didn’t you?” Zhou Zizhe asked.

He deliberately ignored Yu Dazhang’s provocation—getting angry would put him at a disadvantage.

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“Talk about your case,” Yu Dazhang replied, refusing to follow his line of questioning.

“Fine, let’s talk about me,” Zhou Zizhe paused, as if choosing his words, then continued:

“You say you know my motive for murder—then tell me, what made me kill?”

It seemed cooperative, but he was still steering Yu Dazhang toward his own line of inquiry.

If Lu Zhongxin faced this, he’d roar: “I’m asking the questions! Answer me honestly!!”

That might sound imposing—but it’d be useless.

And Zhou Zizhe would immediately conclude: the police don’t know his motive.

This question wasn’t really testing Yu Dazhang—it was still a probe.

He was testing whether this probationary officer, his own age, was bluffing—or had truly deduced the truth.

“I shouldn’t answer a question like yours.”

Yu Dazhang’s stern expression softened slightly; his tone grew less rigid:

“But to cure your paranoia, I’ll tell you.”

He pulled two sheets of paper from the file bag and placed them on the table, tapping them:

“Do you know what this is?”

Zhou Zizhe didn’t answer, but his eyes brightened with interest.

For some reason, he felt the papers held something vital—something connected to him.

“These are the statements from Zhang Yan’s parents,” Yu Dazhang lifted the papers, waving them before Zhou Zizhe:

“I took them myself the afternoon you were arrested.”

“Want to know what they said about you?”

Zhou Zizhe still didn’t answer. His face remained blank, eyes fixed on the papers in Yu Dazhang’s hands.

“Good. I like your reaction,” Yu Dazhang smiled.

“No reaction is the best reaction. You’re still too green.”

“You should’ve shown curiosity—even a flicker of surprise. That would’ve seemed real.”

“You’re afraid. That’s why you won’t let any emotion show.”

“Didn’t your teachers ever tell you? The more someone chases perfection, the more flaws they reveal.”

“Just like you right now.”

Seeing Zhou Zizhe still unmoved, Yu Dazhang didn’t get angry—his smile deepened:

“Earlier, I watched the surveillance footage from the day Zhang Yan disappeared. Shortly after leaving school, she took a call.”

“Don’t bother thinking how to deny it—that call was from you.”

“I don’t know what you said, but I can read what Zhang Yan said in the video.”

“Combined with these statements from her parents.”

“Now, let me tell you a story…”

A pitiful love story of a man with low self-esteem.

(End of Chapter)