Chapter 201: Clarity

"Huang… Huang Bureau, good morning."

When Mu Zhiyang said this, he fully gave up and stopped caring.

After all, it wasn't work hours now; even if he knelt on his bed and banged his head eight times to prove his submission, Huang Qiangmin wouldn't believe him anyway.

Even Mu Zhiyang himself didn't believe it. These days, people go to the City God Temple and bow three times; if you see a crocodile seven meters and eighty-three centimeters long, you bow eight times—who are you fooling?

Besides, Mu Zhiyang's leg was still suspended; he couldn't flip over or kneel down—his body simply wouldn't allow him to bow and scrape.

Huang Qiangmin chuckled at Mu Zhiyang's "Huang Bureau."

The angle of his smile suddenly shifted from 44. degrees to 48. 8 degrees.

Huang Qiangmin said: "Good morning, Team Leader Mu. How's your recovery going?"

Mu Zhiyang bowed low and humbled himself: "Team Leader Huang, we were just blowing smoke…"

"I know, you young guys chat like that," Huang Qiangmin said with a smile, as if comforting Mu Zhiyang, then added: "A soldier who doesn't want to be a general isn't a good soldier. Aspirations shouldn't be hidden behind bragging—and there's no need to hide them. Team Leader Mu? Sounds pretty good."

At this point, Jiang Yuan, having watched enough, smiled and said: "Team Leader Huang, how long are you staying? Any cases?"

"What? You want to join the case?" Huang Qiangmin still felt a slight dissatisfaction.

My own big ox is being dragged out every day by the landlord to plow fields—what kind of arrangement is this?

But it's already routine for county bureaus to lend their top officers to city or provincial departments.

How many young police officers, just graduated a few years, get borrowed away by higher-ups? Many young people don't realize it—they think they've gotten an opportunity and eagerly chase after higher departments themselves.

In reality, the chance of staying after being borrowed is far lower than passing the civil service exam to enter a higher department, and the cost is much greater. It's roughly like failing the Gaokao to enter university, then deciding to join an Olympiad to get in instead.

Or like failing to be selected for the imperial harem, so deciding to become a famous courtesan to seduce the emperor into taking you in.

In the end, the outcome is mostly the same: the county bureau gets back a worn-out, broken body, while online there remain countless posts filled with dreams and youth—selling out.

Of course, Jiang Yuan's situation was still different.

Jiang Yuan's case was too high-end, like horse racing—his exploitation was far more subtle…

In a flash, Huang Qiangmin's smile widened to 66. degrees, sincerely saying: "There haven't been many cases lately. Theft cases have almost vanished. I came just to report, and if you're free, come with me…"

"I'd rather not go," Jiang Yuan said—he didn't want to travel far from home.

Huang Qiangmin clapped his hands: "Good, don't go."

The air in the ward cooled slightly, growing a bit awkward.

Huang Qiangmin laughed again, giving Mu Zhiyang two hearty slaps on the shoulder: "Little Mu, take good care of yourself. This time, I'm going to talk seriously with higher-ups about funding—ideally, to make up the overdue bonuses."

Jiang Yuan was surprised: "We're owed bonuses?"

Mu Zhiyang, being rubbed raw under Huang Qiangmin's hand, obediently replied: "Sometimes overtime subsidies get delayed a few months, then paid all at once when they pile up."

Jiang Yuan suddenly understood: "So that's why my dad's money transfers always had change."

Saying this, Jiang Yuan glanced again at the message alert, sat aside, and opened his phone's notes app to record:

Received salary plus four months of overdue bonuses: 0. 6 yuan.

Then he changed his previous note, "Father's WeChat transfer: meal allowance plus leader's meal allowance plus second-class merit bonus," from 0. 6 yuan to yuan.

Looking at it now, it was much more pleasing to the eye.

After watching Jiang Yuan finish, Huang Qiangmin asked: "Since we met, I'm planning to propose equipment upgrades to the city bureau—what do you think?"

The county bureau's budget comes partly from the county government, partly from city and provincial funding.

For equipment upgrades and new tech innovations, the main funding comes from the city and provincial bureaus.

Jiang Yuan thought for a moment and said: "Our crime scene investigation gear could use a batch of updates. Also, if possible, invest in some fingerprint equipment."

"Fine, I'll bring it up to leadership," Huang Qiangmin said—he couldn't decide directly, but he made a note.

…

In the following days, Jiang Yuan, with Wang Lan, completed the autopsies and reports on the last two bodies, then returned to Ningtai County.

Ningtai remained the same peaceful little county town.

The fresh rain had soaked the county's soil thoroughly.

The alleyways of the old district still had large blue bricks laid two hundred years ago—full of living charm. Of course, the residents who still lived in their own homes instead of renting them out as homestays were originally the true inhabitants with the right to dwell.

Jiang Yuan drove himself around the old streets once, then followed the newly built city boulevard to the police bureau.

Since mastering image enhancement, Jiang Yuan occasionally drove slowly through town, sometimes stopping just to observe camera blind spots.

Image enhancement only gave Jiang Yuan the ability to process images—he lacked the most basic skills of the image investigation team, like tracking cameras.

But it wasn't hard.

Many basic officers in the image investigation team didn't master much "core tech"—they just saw more, experienced more, and were more practiced. For example, in the Zhou Kehua case solved by image tech, over a thousand officers were deployed, reviewing nearly 300 terabytes of surveillance footage—equivalent to 830, 00 movies.

The image expert spent fifteen months watching, only then finding a clue.

If an ordinary person worked that hard for fifteen months, they'd likely have passed the civil service exam and landed a less grueling job.

The world of criminal investigation is upheld by a group of people who don't overthink much, yet think deeply—and who might even be unpaid.

Jiang Yuan had no mentor in image investigation.

But he had a foundation, and he understood the field.

What he was doing now was the most basic, yet most tedious task of image investigators: memorizing local cameras. M.

Memorizing their locations, knowing their angles and coverage, understanding the surroundings…

Even if the system later granted him a skill, what he'd trained now wouldn't be lost.

It's like learning footprints—spending all day studying shoe tread patterns.

No secret, no quick fix—just constant observation, day after day, whenever free.

Slowly, the entire county's surveillance system becomes second nature. Even if systems are updated or rebuilt later, the core knowledge won't change.

Jiang Yuan felt that if he had a few more months, and updated key locations and camera positions, then as long as no major crimes occurred in Qinghe City for two or three months, he could eradicate all thieves in Ningtai County.

Not just catching current offenders—but also solving old cases.

Especially those petty thieves who get out of prison after a few months—each confirmed case adds another year or half-year to their sentence; if three or four cases are pinned on them, a harsh sentence could mean five or seven years.

Thieves don't just commit one crime.

Especially skilled, dexterous ones—they're forged through countless trials; if they haven't broken two sewing machines, their upper and lower body development won't be balanced.

"Uncle Li, busy?" Jiang Yuan pulled up to the bureau parking lot, rolled down his window, and greeted the security guard.

"Oh! Jiang Yuan's back? New car?" Uncle Li walked out of the gate with a big smile.

Jiang Yuan got out, offered him a cigarette, then handed over a newly opened pack of Zhonghua.

"No no no…" Uncle Li declined.

"Long time no see—this is for the past," Jiang Yuan smiled and slipped the Zhonghua into his shirt pocket.

Back when Jiang Village wasn't wealthy, the most common job for men was security guard—including Jiang Yuan's father, Jiang Fuzhen, who probably worked briefly as one, just never told Jiang Yuan.

After all, even during the first demolition, Jiang Village wasn't rich—just no longer poor. Aside from a few who splurged, most people carefully held onto their compensation and sought jobs in the city.

The young, strong, ambitious mostly headed to big cities; the middle-aged and elderly, especially men like Jiang's father—fathers with children but no wives—could only find work nearby. Being a security guard was a natural choice.

Uncle Li was just a local villager, but luckier—he never got demolished, or only once.

He offered Jiang Yuan a cigarette, then slapped his forehead: "I forgot to tell you—two days ago, we got a notice: a parking spot in Zone C is free, assigned to you."

Zone C is the area between the criminal investigation team and the county bureau, directly facing two building entrances—most convenient. Originally, this area was reserved for leaders' private cars. Later, after minor reforms in official vehicle use, many leaders preferred walking a few extra steps rather than parking here.

So, some veteran officers and vehicles from higher-level units with special privileges were assigned to Zone C—a small hidden benefit.

Jiang Yuan hesitated, whispering: "It's really for me? That doesn't seem right."

Uncle Li glanced at Jiang Yuan's rank and whispered back: "You're the most suitable. No problem at all."

"Uh… okay. Is it a fixed spot?"

"Pick any of the empty ones. I'll register you for C16—it's the largest, easiest to enter and exit." Uncle Li smiled and noted it down at the gate.