Chapter 149

"How did you get into the Yang family?" Wu Junhao sat at the long table, asking with a seemingly kind expression.

Liu Chang, slumped lazily, said: "I just walked in. Their front door was open. I thought the kid was home."

"Why did you clash with Yang Qian, the victim?"

"I was bored, so I smashed one of their vats… Yang Qian came over and started yelling. I couldn't just… I couldn't let him get away with it, right?" Liu Chang's account was incomplete.

Wu Junhao didn't care—he was focused now on pulling out the main thread.

Once the first round of interrogation was done, he could ask the finer details during the second.

By then, Liu Chang wouldn't be allowed to speak so freely.

"What exactly did you do when you killed him?" Wu Junhao gradually zeroed in on the key point.

Liu Chang fell into memory.

That scene had appeared in his mind more than once—sometimes in daylight, sometimes at night.

"I could've gone abroad," Liu Chang suddenly said.

Wu Junhao reacted quickly: "Mm. Then why didn't you?"

"Because I killed him in self-defense," Liu Chang said, raising his voice slightly, then lowering it: "I know you won't believe me."

"Tell me," Wu Junhao coaxed like a parent to a child: "Whether you're believed is up to the prosecutors and the court. If you don't say it, who's going to know?"

Cops always did this—before gaining control, they showered you with sweet talk. Only once they had the upper hand and the evidence did they suddenly turn into heartless bastards…

Liu Chang shook his head, waited a long while, then said: "His father reached for the sickle first—I grabbed it before he could. But I didn't realize how long the blade was…"

Wu Junhao instantly relaxed.

This description matched the autopsy findings perfectly.

As a city kid, Liu Chang had never used a sickle and couldn't gauge its length—that was normal.

And the fact that he could describe the motion so clearly proved he was indeed involved in the murder.

Otherwise, no one could possibly recount such a precise killing action without having lived it.

"You slashed his throat—then what?" Wu Junhao pressed on.

Liu Chang's lips twitched into a brief smile, then vanished: "I was young then, didn't know any first aid—I just wanted to run away…"

"You took a shower," Wu Junhao corrected him. "And wiped the fingerprints off the weapon."

Liu Chang froze. This was the first time Wu Junhao had contradicted him.

A flicker of anger rose in Liu Chang.

"I didn't know what else to do—I just did it instinctively," Liu Chang argued.

Wu Junhao remained calm: "You consciously destroyed evidence—and quietly left Shanghe Village."

"I already said—I didn't know what to do!"

"Did you make any phone calls during that time?" Wu Junhao suddenly threw another curveball.

Liu Chang's face tightened instantly.

He had called his father—and all his subsequent actions had been taught to him by his father.

Liu Chang now deeply regretted not listening to his father, not studying English harder, not just going abroad to study…

…

The first interrogation ended. Liu Chang slumped completely in his chair.

Jiang Yuan stood and left. He didn't even enter for the second round.

From Wu Junhao's demeanor, it was clear this round wouldn't be as gentle as a spring breeze.

All the lies told to coax Liu Chang into talking would now be retracted.

Liu Chang would surely react strongly—but under the threat of murder charges, he'd eventually submit again, returning to his original state, only now with a quiet, faint sorrow.

In overall strategy, detectives and A-share markets were much the same. First, they treated you politely, even making you feel you'd gained some trivial advantage. Then came a gentle decline to test your limits. Before you could react, a steep plunge trapped you.

At that point, you wanted to walk away—but detectives and A-shares both used the same line to threaten you: "If you don't cooperate, there's no turning back…"

So, to recover your losses, you incurred even greater ones.

Huang Qiangmin listened to one more round of interrogation.

After the second round ended, he reviewed Liu's father's interrogation record—and finally relaxed.

The special case team members were called back to the conference room.

"Our special case team might be the shortest-lived in history," Huang Qiangmin's lips stayed above 66. degrees.

If this were any other topic, it might've been a sad one.

But under these circumstances, everyone genuinely smiled.

"A short-lived special team is better," someone muttered.

"I wish every case ended this fast."

"Every time we worked with Dr. Jiang, the cases closed quickly."

When someone else spoke the truth, everyone's eyes turned to Jiang Yuan.

Indeed, cases involving Jiang Yuan always closed fast.

Reviewing Jiang Yuan's skills: forensic pathology was his core duty; outsiders didn't grasp his depth, but fingerprints had proven him among the province's elite; his crime scene analysis was excellent; he understood blood spatter; his footstep analysis even surpassed Chen Wenming's…

A group of detectives began unconsciously imagining: if they committed a crime and faced Jiang Yuan, how would they handle it?

The best solution, clearly, was to kill him outright.

"Now, two things. First: at this stage, only a few people need to continue the case. The special team doesn't need so many members…" Huang Qiangmin shed the burden and swiftly assigned new tasks.

"Second: I've reported to the director." Huang Qiangmin glanced at the team, his gaze fixed on Jiang Yuan: "This seven-year-old murder case has finally been solved. Jiang Yuan was the lead investigator. I recommend he be awarded."

Everyone turned to Jiang Yuan again.

In such a short time at the bureau, Jiang Yuan had already received one commendation and one Second-Class Merit. Now another award… it was hard not to feel envious.

Calling Jiang Yuan the lead investigator in the Shanghe Village case was already Huang Qiangmin being generous to everyone's dignity.

To be honest, what work had this shortest-ever special team actually done since its formation?

Jiang Yuan had directly identified the suspect.

Wu Junhao had done some hard work, but it was minimal.

Arresting a 25-year-old civil servant couldn't possibly be difficult. And his quick confession? That was the suspect's doing—not Wu Junhao's effort or skill.

It was as if Jiang Yuan had taken a steamed bun, broken it apart, kneaded it fine, chewed it to pulp, and spat it out for Wu Junhao.

Wu Junhao merely swallowed.

In this entire process, including Huang Qiangmin, everyone had just been spectators—what credit could they claim?

"Appropriate."

"Dr. Jiang is truly amazing."

"No argument."

Everyone nodded.

The special team members came from different departments, but they'd only been together for a day—no one had expected to gain anything from it.

Huang Qiangmin nodded. As long as everyone was aligned, that was enough.

"Record everyone's statements," Huang Qiangmin told the stenographer in the corner.

Someone who understood chuckled silently, treating it as nothing.

Huang Qiangmin waved his hand: "Alright, that's all. Dismissed."

The moment he finished speaking, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Huang Qiangmin called.

A young man entered, took two steadying breaths, and whispered: "The victim's family is downstairs. They want us to come see them. The family from the Shanghe Village home invasion murder."

"So soon?" Huang Qiangmin understood at once. "Has the director been informed?"

"The director is already meeting the victim's family."

"Oh. Understood." Huang Qiangmin immediately relaxed.

If the director had shown up, the situation must be good. Otherwise, he'd wait until things calmed down before appearing.

"Jiang Yuan, come with me. Anyone from First Platoon? Come along." Huang Qiangmin quickly selected his team.

Three officers from First Platoon immediately followed Huang Qiangmin.

"Word spreads fast. Probably leaked by the classmates we questioned," Huang Qiangmin analyzed the family's sudden visit, smiling.

Rare to have such reasonable, comforting victims' relatives.

In the lobby, they found an elderly woman, pitifully frail, accompanied by her dull-witted son.

"Old Huang, come here," Director Guan Xi called warmly, pulling Huang Qiangmin into the photo zone: "The victim's wife raised her son alone under terrible hardship. But when she heard the case was solved, she traveled all this way to bring us two boxes of peaches."

"Homegrown. Not worth much. Just eat them," the victim's wife looked far older than her actual age.

She was barely in her early fifties.

But without reviewing the case file, Huang Qiangmin would've sworn he was looking at a seventy-year-old woman.

"Even if homegrown, they still have value. Let us pay for them," Huang Qiangmin politely insisted.

The victim's wife waved dismissively: "No need to pay. We have plenty of peaches at home. I even trade peaches for shit."

"Shit?" Huang Qiangmin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I traded peaches for a bucket of shit and dumped it right outside the killer's workplace," the victim's wife said cheerfully. "Their director even apologized to me."

Huang Qiangmin blinked: "You just dumped shit on the Finance Bureau?"

Director Guan Xi also blinked: "You made the Finance Bureau director apologize to you?"