Chapter 66: Just Tell Me—I Can

From the moment he saw him, Yu Dazhang had been wondering how to bring it up.

Wei Chuang must have secretly observed him after he returned from his disappearance.

He must also have learned about his amnesia.

The only way to make him speak freely about the truth was to make him believe his former student had recovered his memory.

After observing him all along, and considering his wife’s attitude toward him, Yu Dazhang had finally uttered those words just now.

Since he didn’t know, he might as well take all the blame on himself and sincerely apologize.

That would create a false impression in Wei Chuang’s mind: he’s recovered his memory, otherwise he wouldn’t be apologizing to me.

Yu Dazhang had actually guessed right—this trick worked extremely well.

Seeing Wei Chuang ask him in surprise, Yu Dazhang had already prepared his response.

“Yeah, too bad I only just remembered—if I had, I’d have come to apologize sooner.” Yu Dazhang said, lowering his head slightly while placing his hand over Wei Chuang’s:

“Chuang ge, you’ve been wronged.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Wei Chuang panicked, seemingly stunned by Yu Dazhang’s words; his face twisted in pain as he shook his head quickly:

“Don’t say that—if I hadn’t gone with you back then, none of this would’ve happened. It was my fault as your teacher for being too impulsive.”

Wei Chuang sighed and winced, looking utterly remorseful, making Yu Dazhang frown.

Come on, keep talking… He noticed Wei Chuang’s expressions changed frequently—so many shifts in just a few moments—but still no real answers.

Still, it wasn’t entirely fruitless.

From Wei Chuang’s earlier words, Yu Dazhang deduced that the incident involved Wei Chuang accompanying him.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me,” he could only go along with Wei Chuang’s line now:

“Ultimately, it’s all my fault.”

Wei Chuang was about to reply when his wife walked out of the kitchen; she first shot him a glare, then said:

“Why bring up the past? You’re in household registration now—what’s the point of talking about this anymore?”

When the woman runs the house, the walls collapse… Yu Dazhang gritted his teeth, his hand beneath the table slowly clenching into a fist.

We were having a pleasant little mutual probing—you, as his wife, just go wash your dishes.

Do you even have the right to interfere?

If you were as fat as me, you’d kill yourself—talk is cheap when you’re standing upright.

He realized Wei Chuang was afraid of his wife.

No wonder—whose wife wouldn’t make him dizzy, especially after being transferred to the most dead-end department: household registration?

Yu Dazhang guessed Wei Chuang had already lost all say at home.

Unexpectedly, Wei Chuang suddenly stood his ground.

“What are you butting in for, talking between men?!” He glared fiercely, stood up, and pointed at his wife, as if ready to fight:

“In your eyes, is there anything besides money? You fucking—”

“No, no, no!” Yu Dazhang rushed over to hold Wei Chuang back, then glanced meaningfully at his wife to signal her to retreat.

Perhaps she’d never seen Wei Chuang lose his temper like this—she froze for a moment, then said nothing and went into the bedroom.

Finally, no one’s interrupting us… Yu Dazhang secretly rejoiced, but kept up the facade of guilt.

“Chuang ge, look at this—because of me, you two are fighting. It’s all my fault.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Wei Chuang sat back down and sighed:

“You don’t know—I’ve been suffering inside and out for the past year. I’ve wanted to yell at her for ages.”

Yu Dazhang offered a few more words of comfort, then shifted the topic:

“Did you investigate further after that incident?”

This was pure fishing for information.

He had no idea what had happened—but he still had to steer the conversation toward that incident.

The more they talked, the more clues he might uncover; for now, he could only pretend he knew everything.

“Da Zhang,” Wei Chuang suddenly changed expression, looking at Yu Dazhang with deep concern:

“The best outcome is that you’re back—just focus on your work and stop dwelling on that incident.” What incident exactly… Yu Dazhang was nearly driven mad.

No wonder he’d been a police academy instructor—answered every question, never slipped.

What a talent!

I refuse to believe it… Yu Dazhang deliberately glanced toward the bedroom, then lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously:

“Aren’t you curious about what I went through during those nine months I disappeared?”

The trick worked perfectly.

He noticed Wei Chuang’s lips parted slightly and his eyebrows lifted just a fraction.

The movement was tiny, but Yu Dazhang caught it.

These two micro-expressions proved Wei Chuang was intensely curious.

“C-can you tell me?” His voice stuttered—he was clearly nervous.

“Of course I can—but…” Yu Dazhang deliberately drew out the word, buying time to think of what to say next.

He couldn’t possibly describe what he’d experienced—but he could use this topic to extract information.

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

“You have to tell me first where we went,” Yu Dazhang feigned curiosity:

“My memory isn’t fully restored—I only remember what happened later, but not how it started.”

Coming up with this excuse used nearly all of Yu Dazhang’s brain cells.

Forming a flawless excuse during a gap in their conversation was hellishly difficult.

Fortunately, Wei Chuang didn’t suspect a thing.

“You don’t remember where you went?” He thought for a moment, then said:

“So during those nine months you were missing, you were locked in a sealed room?”

“Yep,” Yu Dazhang nodded.

Just tell me already—I can’t keep making this up… He felt Wei Chuang was trying to trap him.

The interrogation techniques he learned at police academy were used by Wei Chuang with masterful precision; Yu Dazhang even suspected he’d developed the habit unconsciously.

“Incoherent memory is indeed bad—it hinders your brain’s recovery.”

Wei Chuang spoke, showing an understanding expression, then recalled as he continued:

“On April 28th last year, you suddenly came to me and asked me to accompany you somewhere.”

“Mm-hmm~” Yu Dazhang’s eyes widened, staring at him expectantly.

“I refused at first, but you kept pressing me for two days straight.”

Wei Chuang paused here, as if regretting he hadn’t held firm to his principles.

Yu Dazhang dared not interrupt, just stared blankly at him.

After a brief silence, Wei Chuang continued:

“You said there’d be danger, but also that you’d save many lives.”

“I urged you to report it to the police, but you said only by finding evidence there would they open a case.”

“So on April 30th, I went with you to Xiaofeng Mountain on the city outskirts—and then…”

When he heard “Xiaofeng Mountain,” Yu Dazhang shot to his feet as if shocked by electricity.

His face twisted with shock, panic, and disbelief.

He stared intently into Wei Chuang’s eyes:

“We went to the abandoned radar station on the mountain?!!”

(End of Chapter)