Chapter 176: Case Closed

The interrogation room in the Qianjin District Bureau was more nicely decorated than the one in Ningtai County.

Although everyone held the same rank, the district bureau really did have more money than the county bureau.

If someone had been held in the Qianjin District interrogation room and then sat in the Ningtai County one, they would surely complain: "Your interrogation room is so small and old, smells terrible, and the smoke stains on the ceiling haven't even been cleaned off…"

But if someone had first been held in the Ningtai County room and then moved to the Qianjin District one, they might well praise it: "Your interrogation room is truly spacious and beautiful, the seats are soft, and it even smells nice…"

Suspect No. 1, Wang Futing, was inexperienced.

He was probably sitting in an interrogation room for the first time and had no appreciation for the Qianjin District Bureau's superior conditions—he just sat there blankly, expressionless.

Even from the surveillance room, Jiang Yuan could sense his numb emotions.

Lei Xin sat down across from Wang Futing, smiling slightly, his expression relaxed.

In fact, he truly felt much more at ease than before.

Confirming it was a gang crime meant the suspects' vulnerabilities had multiplied.

And for an ordinary rural youth like Wang Futing, his social connections were easy to trace.

A few close childhood friends, relatives who cared for him—all were uncovered after just walking around the village.

Add to that his parents' network.

Considering the fact that the victim had been raped and the suspect was likely physically strong, several detectives walked through Wang Futing's village and compiled a list of suspects.

Then, after cross-checking timelines and movements, Wang Futing's uncle, Wang Ming, stood out.

According to Lei Xin and his team's judgment, Wang Futing was unlikely to have premeditated murder; the greater probability was a verbal conflict that escalated into a crime of passion.

After all, raising a large bride price to pay the bride's family clearly meant he intended to build a life.

Someone like that, even if faced with problems, wouldn't first think of murder.

But Wang Futing's uncle, Wang Ming, had been working near Qinghe City during the incident, and accompanying him to the bride's home to add weight to their demands was entirely plausible.

Once confirmed, Lei Xin immediately headed to the interrogation room.

This time, Lei Xin entered holding a thick stack of case files, gently placing them on the table before saying: "Wang Futing, you say you didn't kill anyone. Answer me a few questions—if your answers are reasonable, I'll let you go home. How about it?"

Wang Futing, who had refused to speak even a word, twitched his cheek, glanced at Lei Xin, and still refused to utter a sound.

Lei Xin smiled. He'd seen too many people like Wang Futing.

Many first-time offenders, especially those accused of serious crimes, behave this way—not because they're skilled at evading investigation, but because they've shut down.

It's fear that silences them, not courage.

So Lei Xin tempted him with what he desired most:

"Do you want to go home?"

"Look, you said earlier we got the wrong person. Fine, I'll temporarily believe you—you didn't kill her. But now I'm ready to let you go, and yet you're still acting like this, I can't help but suspect you again."

Lei Xin grew more serious, his tone gradually turning stern.

Wang Futing cracked. He looked up and said: "You're all bullying me."

"Just a few questions. Answer them well, and I'll let you go home." Lei Xin held up three fingers.

Wang Futing's throat moved, but he stayed silent.

"Then the first question: Zhang Ying took your 188, 00 yuan and claimed she spent it all. What are you going to do about it?" Lei Xin asked directly, assuming Wang Futing hadn't killed her.

Wang Futing hesitated slightly, then said: "Get it back."

"But Zhang Ying is dead. Debts die with the debtor. What will you do then? Go to her parents for it?" Lei Xin asked.

"Mm."

"Just 'mm'? 188, 00 yuan is several years' income for your whole family. Are you really willing to give up that much money? A normal person wouldn't care whether Zhang Ying was dead or alive—they'd demand their money first."

"He has no money. What's the point of me demanding it?" Wang Futing lifted his head.

"Criminal cases are criminal cases. After sentencing, Zhang Ying's parents can still file a civil claim for compensation—they can sue the murderer for damages." Lei Xin said: "The murderer's relatives often voluntarily pay to obtain a letter of forgiveness."

Wang Futing understood. He stared fixedly at Lei Xin.

"If you're not the murderer, you can sue in court before Zhang Ying's parents receive compensation—giving you a chance to enforce payment and recover your 188, 00 yuan."

Lei Xin paused, then looked at Wang Futing: "But if you are the murderer, your parents will have to pay the victim's family—and likely a substantial sum."

Lei Xin's words were half-truths, but Wang Futing could no longer tell truth from lie.

His emotions shifted visibly.

"Your uncle Wang Ming suggested borrowing money to hire a lawyer to defend you and recover your 188, 00 yuan. Afterwards, you'd use the recovered money to pay the lawyer's fee." Lei Xin, now fully grasping Wang Futing's psychological weak point, lied smoothly: "If you agree, your parents will have to take out a loan."

Wang Futing froze, his composure cracking.

"If you didn't kill her, we can drop this whole thing." Lei Xin tapped the case files, speaking slowly: "But we both know you really did kill Zhang Ying. In that case, do you really want your parents to exhaust their savings, go into debt, and fight a legal battle for you? Can they even win?"

Wang Futing fell back into silence, as if shutting down again.

But Lei Xin knew he was breaking.

"Actually, even if your parents borrow money to hire a lawyer, that's your choice. But what if they sell their house, take out high-interest loans, and then the money gets stolen anyway? What then?" Lei Xin struck at his soul.

Wang Futing shuddered in shock.

In the surveillance room, Jiang Yuan watched as Lei Xin methodically chipped away at Wang Futing's psychological defenses, like hammering in nails, and sighed.

Wang Lan, watching beside him, said calmly: "Don't pity the murderer."

Jiang Yuan's thoughts had been read—he felt slightly embarrassed: "It's not really pity…"

Wang Lan said: "When he committed his crimes, it wasn't done in one instant. Throughout the process, he had countless chances to stop. But he never stopped—and to ensure the victim's death, he stabbed her over ten times!"

Jiang Yuan nodded: "And then he set the house on fire."

"Not only did he burn down a stranger's home—he might have endangered neighbors too," Wang Lan said coldly. "He's far colder than he appears."

Jiang Yuan sighed inwardly: "Maybe."

At that moment, Wang Futing in the interrogation room began confessing his crimes.

Of the 188, 00 yuan bride price, 50, 00 yuan was borrowed from his uncle Wang Ming. Wang Ming suggested retrieving the bride price. Wang Ming proposed going to Zhang Ying's house to demand it. Wang Ming struck Zhang Ying. Wang Ming raped Zhang Ying. Wang Ming killed Zhang Ying. Wang Ming set the house on fire.

Lei Xin didn't interrupt Wang Futing's confession. In gang crimes, once one person confesses, it's as if both have confessed—there would be plenty of time later to sort out the details.

Jiang Yuan stayed another day, waited for Wang Ming's arrest, then bid farewell and returned home.

Wang Ming wasn't particularly strong, but years of manual labor had given him solid strength, along with some cunning and sharpness.

But in the interrogation room, none of it mattered.

While the entire detective squad was eager to step in, his petty tricks were merely appetizers.

…

The Jiang family home.

The two puppies, catching Jiang Yuan's scent, barked wildly.

Jiang Fujian heard the noise, stepped out, and chuckled: "I told you—these two dogs don't know you well. When they see you, they bark louder than ever."

"Probably think I make good dog food," Jiang Yuan said, washing his hands and heading straight for the kitchen.

His father, Jiang Fujian, spent most of his time in the kitchen too—their usual conversation spot.

Jiang Fujian, unsurprisingly, was boiling meat, poking at the chunks with chopsticks: "I cook pretty well too, yet you never praise me when you come home… I thought with your stable job, you'd find a girlfriend sooner. But now you're gone for days on end. Your Aunt Liu's been trying to set you up for ages, but when she mentioned you're a forensic pathologist, the girls all backed out."

Jiang Yuan silently endured his father's complaints. Though no woman had shown interest, his work yesterday involved a female corpse… He washed a pile of vegetables, then turned on his father's newly built high-heat stove, heated the wok, and asked: "Want me to cook you something too?"

"Fine," Jiang Fujian agreed.

Father and son worked in the kitchen, while the dogs barked outside…

Overpowering the cicadas in the trees.