Chapter 94: Cannon Shooting Mosquitoes

Abandonment is a type of criminal offense, so after receiving a report, such cases are transferred to the Criminal Investigation Unit.

In his previous life, Yu Dazhang had handled several similar cases.

The typical targets of abandonment are the elderly, the young, the sick, or others unable to live independently.

These cases aren’t difficult, but they’re hard to handle.

Because they involve one saying: Every family has its own hard-to-recite scripture.

Do you think such things have become rare now?

On the contrary.

As always, reality is cruel.

Do you find it unbelievable?

Economic conditions keep improving, yet abandoned infants are increasing.

There are too many reasons; if I listed them all, you’d say I’m padding the word count.

So I’ll just mention the two main ones.

First, mandatory premarital medical exams were abolished.

After abolition, very few people voluntarily underwent them, causing a sharp rise in congenital birth defects among newborns.

Second, unmarried pregnancies have become increasingly common.

This one is truly unspeakable.

Since the 1990s, young people have grown increasingly open-minded and reckless.

They only care about pleasure, refusing to take responsibility.

The state is also frustrated, so since 2005, college students have been allowed to marry.

Let me tell you another good piece of news.

Even without marriage, even without a marriage certificate, a child can now be registered for household registration.

Illegitimate children can be registered under either the mother’s or father’s household—implemented in 2021.

When Yu Dazhang arrived at the hospital, he found another officer already there, waiting for him at the main entrance.

The officer’s name is Ma Jian, twenty-eight years old; he’s worked with Yu Dazhang several times these past few days, and they’ve patrolled together during daytime stakeouts.

“Brother Ma, sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No problem, I just got here myself.”

After greeting each other, they entered the hospital; Ma Jian led the way, speaking as they walked:

“The reporter is a nurse from pediatrics; let’s go find her first to learn the specifics.”

“Have you seen the report?” Yu Dazhang asked.

“Here.” Ma Jian pulled a file from his bag and handed it to him:

“I read it right after the branch received the report.”

Yu Dazhang took it, slowed his pace, and skimmed through it quickly.

The content was simple.

A six-year-old patient in pediatrics had previously been cared for by alternating parents; neither had shown up at the hospital all day.

The nurse called them that evening and found both phones turned off.

Realizing something was wrong, the nurse immediately reported it to her superior, who then decided to alert the police.

On the surface, it was clear the parents no longer wished to pay medical bills and had abandoned the child at the hospital.

They soon reached pediatrics and found the reporting nurse.

After identifying themselves, Ma Jian asked:

“Had the child’s parents ever been unreachable before?”

The female nurse, appearing to be in her thirties and wearing a white coat, was calm and replied:

“Never. Since the child was admitted, at least one parent always stayed at the hospital.”

After quickly jotting it down, Ma Jian continued:

“What about the patient’s payment status?”

“They’re in arrears,” the nurse said, her face showing a hint of helplessness:

“I urged the father to pay yesterday afternoon, but the bill remains unpaid to this day.”

While they spoke, Yu Dazhang observed his surroundings.

The clean, tidy environment, the medical equipment, the bright, spacious wards—all clearly newly renovated.

Though Yu Dazhang didn’t understand medical equipment, everything suggested this hospital was high-end. If they had no money, why bring the child here?

Had they planned abandonment from the start and chosen a premium hospital?

Yu Dazhang was accustomed to first identifying suspicious points during investigations.

Then he made bold hypotheses based on those points.

Sometimes he even simulated the suspect’s psychology and thinking.

Though the case was small, every detail demanded caution.

Ma Jian asked several more questions, all centered on the patient and parents; the nurse answered fluently and in detail.

Whenever the two teamed up these past few days, Ma Jian handled all the work.

First, Li Jun had given instructions.

Anyone paired with Yu Dazhang on duty should be allowed to take it easy.

This was a patient undergoing psychological counseling.

Second, everyone in the branch believed someone like Yu Dazhang was no longer suited for handling minor cases.

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

In everyone’s eyes, this was like using a cannon to shoot a mosquito.

Don’t let this fat guy’s lack of seniority fool you—he’s got a solid record.

Since joining the First Team, he’s handled only major and serious cases, and each time he solved them successfully.

So whenever someone from the branch is paired with Yu Dazhang, they automatically treat him as a tool.

You don’t need to do anything—just follow along. After all, the cases are minor; one person can handle them.

No wonder Yu Dazhang felt comfortable these past few days.

Even this late-night overtime didn’t bother him.

The branch really took good care of him.

But he still took investigations seriously—he’d never truly see himself as a tool.

Just as Ma Jian finished asking questions and was about to check surveillance footage, Yu Dazhang spoke up.

He looked at the nurse and asked:

“What level is this hospital?”

“Grade 3A,” the nurse replied.

Yu Dazhang thought for a moment, then asked:

“Public or private?”

The question startled the nurse—she hadn’t expected a police officer to ask this.

Still, she answered seriously:

“Private.”

“Are there private Grade 3A hospitals?” Yu Dazhang blinked, looking genuinely confused.

The nurse’s expression grew impatient.

“Officer, how is this relevant to the case?” she countered.

“Of course it’s relevant,” Yu Dazhang’s face darkened. “I need to understand why the parents chose your hospital before proceeding.”

He didn’t even need to think—he could invent any excuse, and she couldn’t refuse.

Though annoyed, the nurse had no rebuttal and replied:

“Whether it’s private or public doesn’t matter—as long as it meets the standards and passes official evaluation, it can be rated.”

After speaking, seeing Yu Dazhang show no reaction, she added:

“Private hospitals ease pressure on public ones; the state has long encouraged this.”

She really knew her stuff... if a doctor had said this, Yu Dazhang wouldn’t have been surprised.

After all, professional knowledge was expected.

But could a nurse say this?

Yu Dazhang reconsidered—it wasn’t unusual.

Like himself as a police officer—he understood some industry knowledge, even if not deliberately studied.

Just through exposure, he’d picked up bits and pieces.

“One last question,” Yu Dazhang said, noticing the nurse no longer wanted to talk.

“Does your pediatrics department offer any external promotions or discounts?”

(End of chapter)

(End of chapter)