Chapter 120: A Father

Clap clap clap clap.

Enthusiastic applause erupted throughout the hall, causing the faces of the row of people on the podium to flush red.

Jiang Yuan was seated at the very center of the podium, with Mu Zhiyang to his left, a young sniper from the Armed Police to his right, and Zhu Huan Guang beside him.

The young sniper's cheeks were flushed as red as braised pork.

He was barely twenty-one or twenty-two years old; had he not joined the military, he would have just graduated from university and begun the grueling life of job hunting, renting a room, and having his dignity trampled.

But because he shot Lao Hu dead and saved Mu Zhiyang, he was awarded a Second-Class Merit, and his life had already been transformed beyond recognition.

At the most basic level, if he chose to retire, he was eligible for reassignment to civilian employment—meaning he would receive a formal post, a benefit ordinary soldiers rarely obtained.

Mu Zhiyang's cheeks, by contrast, were pale to the bone.

He now avoided recalling the moment he was wounded.

The ferocious gang leader, the flying bullets—they were terrifying; after seeing his own wound in the mirror, Mu Zhiyang felt even more afraid.

This time, it was truly thanks to the swift action of the young Armed Police soldier on his other side; had he hesitated half a second or missed by even a fraction, Mu Zhiyang would have been riddled with follow-up 9mm bullets.

Below the stage.

Even leaders from central ministries looked up at Jiang Yuan and the others.

At least for this moment, the ceremony guaranteed them all the spotlight.

A leader from the provincial bureau pinned a Second-Class Merit medal onto Jiang Yuan's chest. It was a copper-gold medal with the national emblem as its base, featuring five five-pointed stars in the center and a five-color ribbon of blue, yellow, white, and red hanging above.

The medal looked slightly rustic, but its sense of history and honor filled Jiang Yuan with deep satisfaction and peace.

At the same time, a system notification appeared before Jiang Yuan's eyes:

Reward: Personal Second-Class Merit

Reward content: Image Enhancement Technology 5, modifiable

Jiang Yuan quickly realized that the Image Enhancement Technology 3 he had received from his previous personal commendation had been overwritten by Level 5.

He cautiously tapped the parenthesis on the right, and indeed, another list of options appeared:

Criminal Image Technology 4

Document Examination Technology 4

Trace Evidence Examination Technology 4

The arrangement was identical to the last time, except that all skill levels had been upgraded to 4; if he chose more specific sub-options, he would receive Level 5.

Clearly, if Jiang Yuan wanted to change his awarded skill, he now had at least one opportunity.

Jiang Yuan hesitated, then made no change.

He had already experienced how useful Image Enhancement Technology was; in this era, image forensics was truly a game-changer for solving cases. It had been somewhat useless in the mountains before, but in the city, its value was immense.

Besides, Level 5 technology was incredibly powerful—he might as well use it first.

After experimenting this long, Jiang Yuan now had a clear understanding of the differences between Levels 1 to 5.

Level 1 represented the baseline knowledge a qualified professional should possess—entry-level within the professional system, yet still highly competent compared to ordinary people.

Currently, Level 1 fingerprint technology slightly surpassed Wang Zhong's ability.

Level 2 was the skill level of a top-tier professional in a city—mid-to-high tier within the professional hierarchy, an absolute backbone.

In criminal investigation, a first-rate county or municipal bureau typically hovered around Level 2.

Level 3 was reserved for provincial experts, already among the elite in the field; most experts participating in fingerprint case conferences likely possessed Level 3 fingerprint skills. Zhu Huan Guang, who had also received a Third-Class Merit, had slightly more than Level 3.

Level 4 was provincial top-tier, national-level expertise—deep mastery of a specific skill. Zhu Huan Guang was just one step away from Level 4; or rather, when he attended fingerprint case conferences organized by central ministries, the high-level experts there would have Level 4 skills.

Level 5 was national elite, international expert status—the rank of a master in the field, a rarity in any country.

Jiang Yuan could have chosen broader skills this time, such as Level 4 Criminal Image Technology, but considering the uneven tiers across different skills, he prioritized the narrower but higher-level Image Enhancement Technology.

He could always choose another one next time he earned an award.

Jiang Yuan's thinking was simple and direct.

For him now, ordinary cases within his operational range could be solved by any method—it was the difficult cases, the ones requiring breakthrough techniques, that truly mattered.

The award ceremony ended; the official motivational rally began.

In the police system, awards were always handled this way: unless it was a model hero, celebrations were either small-scale or piggybacked on larger events.

For leaders, awarding officers who had previously earned merit at the start of such ceremonies was also a morale-boosting gesture.

What is called a rally is no more than clarifying a few key questions: What are we preparing to do? Why are we doing it? What impact will this have on the nation, society, the collective, and the individual?

Sometimes, certain leaders would openly state the reward and punishment conditions, even including travel subsidy amounts.

Breaking down this entire process, it was not unlike forensic anthropology.

After the motivational rally ended, police vehicles carried officers from various counties, districts, and the municipal bureau to new battlefields.

The officers assembled this time were mostly from economic crime units.

The large number of economic cases involving the Five-Man Group would be the focus of this round of investigation.

Homicide cases remained in the deep-digging phase; interrogation teams of detectives treated their work like a daily job, methodically interrogating the other four men besides Lao Hu, inch by inch, bit by bit, extracting information.

Chen Deling and the others were already implicated in over twenty deaths—already at the maximum threshold for criminal cases—but they still resisted on the economic crime front.

From the police perspective, homicide cases were important, but their efforts had been fully expended; even sending another thousand officers now would uncover no additional bodies. Given the complexity and scope of the entire case series, the economic crimes would likely require a prolonged, drawn-out investigation.

Jiang Yuan's mission ended; he returned home. He had originally accompanied Liu Jinghui on the "Wu Long Mountain Wildman Case"; now that Li Sanqiu's case was solved, his presence was no longer needed.

He returned to Ningtai County by hitching a ride with Wei Zhenguo, arriving in the evening.

He didn't notify anyone, simply carrying his bag home alone.

Entering the neighborhood, as he passed the small grocery store, Jiang Yuan habitually paused—but today, the crowd chatting outside was unusually sparse.

"Uncle. Auntie." Jiang Yuan offered a general greeting.

The people chatting looked over in surprise:

"Jiang Yuan's back?"

"Still full of energy?"

"Still not talking nonsense?"

Jiang Yuan, hearing their dialect, was baffled, only smiling: "I'm heading home now."

"Go on, go on," the Jiang Village folks waved one hand and pulled out their phones with the other.

When Jiang Yuan arrived home, he found the several-hundred-square-meter house packed with people.

Some sat, some stood, some wandered around; tables were laden with all kinds of food and drinks, everyone chatting and laughing.

Jiang Yuan was startled—what was going on?

A banquet?

Fortunately, Jiang Fuzhen soon appeared, pulling Jiang Yuan inside and clapping his shoulder several times.

"Jiang Yuan, you did well!"

"Yuanzi, amazing!"

The villagers in the living room began praising him.

Their words were simple, but their emotions were overflowing.

For Jiang Village, Jiang Yuan's achievement truly filled a void they had long felt.

As a famous wealthy village in Shannan Province, Jiang Village had wealth—but no obvious accomplishments or achievements beyond that.

A spirit of idle living was common among the youth; at the age when they should be achieving something, the boys dreamed of racing cars, and the girls dreamed of losing twenty more pounds to marry a ball team captain.

Jiang Village wasn't overly concerned with outsiders' opinions, but Jiang Yuan's success still filled a deep inner void.

Our Jiang Village is the village of a Second-Class Merit recipient.

"Alright, Jiang Yuan's back—tomorrow morning we'll go pay respects at the ancestral shrine," Old Third Grandpa clapped his hands, sealing the decision.

Jiang Yuan understood a little, but not fully, so he asked his father: "What's this?"

"Celebrating you becoming a Second-Class Merit recipient," Jiang Fuzhen laughed heartily.

"But that doesn't warrant ancestral worship, does it?"

Jiang Fuzhen said seriously: "It does. You fought for this with your life."

Jiang Yuan recalled: "It wasn't that dangerous—I just had a colleague shot."

The most dangerous moment was actually when he exchanged fire with Lao Hu, but honestly, it didn't have to be that dangerous—it was mainly because everyone was inexperienced. Not only were young Jiang Yuan and Mu Zhiyang novices, but Wei Zhenguo and Wen Ming were also novices in gunfights.

Even Huang Qiangmin, who organized the defense and traps, was inexperienced. The Armed Police were slightly better, but Zhou Gang and his squad that day had never experienced real combat either.

Jiang Yuan thought that if a similar situation arose again, it wouldn't be nearly as dangerous.

Jiang Fuzhen couldn't help but slap his son: "How much more dangerous do you want it? You want me to get your portrait as a funeral offering?"

"I wouldn't let that happen."

"Then that's enough."

"But I just think ancestral worship is—"

"Everyone's having a good time, and besides, Jiang Village hasn't had a big event in a long time," Jiang Fuzhen cut him off, eyes narrowing.

Jiang Yuan felt as if he could read a line written above his father's head: Today's paternal love balance insufficient.

"I'll go rest now," Jiang Yuan obediently retreated to his room.

Vibrate.

Inside his room, his phone buzzed.

He opened it, glanced, and saw a text: "Your account 2085 received RMB payment from: Jiang Fuzhen, account ending: 1937."

His father had cashed out the last of his paternal love. Tsk.