Chapter 225

Interrogation room.

There were no green vines inside; it was completely bare.

The tiles on all sides were cold-toned, but the air conditioning wasn't cool enough, leaving the room hot and oppressive.

The iron bars on the front looked terrifying.

The police behind the bars were even more intimidating.

Before the iron fist of dictatorship smashed into their faces, many thought they could endure it. But in reality, most had proven by action that the iron fist was truly heavy.

Wang Song was feeling exactly this way now.

He had carefully and thoroughly considered the prospect of prison.

Originally, he believed he could bear it.

He was still young; serving a few years in prison and then being released would make him a veteran who had endured hard labor. At that point, not only would he receive the money promised to him, but his status within the group would also change—he'd rise from an obscure support staff member to someone close to leadership.

Wang Song had previously been sent abroad on business.

It was a collaboration project between Jianyuan and other companies in Africa; the site was desolate, and during normal hours, everyone was confined to the construction site, forbidden to leave.

Every three or four months, they were allowed to visit nearby cities for a brief release. To Wang Song, it felt exactly like prison.

The pay was low—only about 200, 00 yuan in annual net income—but meals, lodging, and all necessities were covered. Still, it was just like prison.

Wang Song thought it would be better to take a big risk.

But now, actually sitting inside the police interrogation room, Wang Song felt utterly terrible.

The heavy, suffocating pressure had been seeping out since the moment he was shackled to the interrogation chair.

The air quality in the room was poor; it smelled strange, making Wang Song suspect someone had vomited or had diarrhea here—maybe even lost bladder control. There must have been, Wang Song thought, because right now he himself wanted to vomit and defecate.

The greater frustration came from the interrogating officer's demands.

Copy a paragraph ten times?

That's a punishment reserved for elementary school kids.

But after deep consideration, especially under the officer's piercing gaze, Wang Song silently copied it ten times.

Wang Song despised himself.

In this moment, he felt as if he had returned to school, back when other students bullied him and he hated himself for not daring to resist.

But more than anything, Wang Song was terrified.

If the interrogating police were this terrifying, what would prison guards be like?

Prison mates probably wouldn't laugh and chat like the workers on the construction site…

Copying that short passage took considerable effort.

After finishing the ten copies, Wang Song handed them to the officer like a little elementary student.

"I'll take this to the expert," Lei Xin said, standing up immediately and walking out with the copied pages.

Outside the interrogation room, Qinghe City had its own part-time document examiners, as well as a document expert dispatched from Changyang City.

Since Yuan Yulang died, this case had been upgraded to a homicide. Within Qinghe City's jurisdiction, it was now a top-priority case—no matter whether Jianyuan Company was preparing for an IPO or already listed, the case couldn't be suppressed.

At the same time, Lei Xin could now mobilize far more resources.

The main reason was that Jiang Yuan had solved the case too quickly; before Lei Xin could allocate resources, Bai Yuequn had already confessed.

With the principal suspect already arrested, resource allocation couldn't be excessive. Still, borrowing a document expert from the Changyang City Criminal Investigation Brigade was acceptable.

Together with Jiang Yuan, there were now three document examiners spread out in a small room, each examining several sheets of paper and then exchanging them.

Jiang Yuan, holding his magnifying glass, carefully examined all ten copies, then reviewed the original photo.

This time, Jiang Yuan didn't just look at Arabic numerals—he focused especially on the words "WeChat" and other characters' structural forms.

Yes, document examination could compare not only the original characters but also other characters as analogs.

Theoretically, the more complex a character's form, the more helpful it was for document analysis.

The two characters "WeChat" were complex enough.

Jiang Yuan had looked at only a few sheets and was already certain: the person who wrote the note was unquestionably Wang Song.

But since he was here, he might as well examine the remaining versions too.

Needless to say, Wang Song had deliberately tried to conceal his handwriting.

His original text was written with his left hand; now he copied everything with his right, making it look entirely different.

But it made no difference.

Copying a paragraph ten times first reveals the similarity among those ten copies.

Normal people's handwriting shows extremely high similarity. For example, copying this paragraph ten times would result in nearly identical structures—when spread out, any ordinary person could recognize them as the same.

Wang Song had no special training, so when he copied ten times without using his habitual writing style, his performance became unstable.

The excessive variation among the characters proved his concealment.

And concealment itself already revealed the truth.

Second, the comparison between his handwriting and the physical evidence…

Overall, the flaws were too numerous—it was hard to know where to start stabbing.

The other two document examiners had nearly identical expressions.

The hardest part of this case had been identifying the most likely "messenger" from among Jianyuan's employees.

Once Wang Song was exposed, the document examiners' work became simple.

After all three confirmed it, Lei Xin exhaled, thanked them, and returned to the interrogation room with full confidence.

Inside the interrogation room, Wang Song, having sat in silence for half an hour, had already imagined how to write his memoir, "My Struggle."

"I'll be direct: our document expert has confirmed that this note was written by you," Lei Xin said, holding up the slip with "WeChat:" written on it.

Wang Song swallowed hard and said nothing.

Lei Xin said: "I'm not interested in you. I want your testimony to get to the people above you. But if you don't talk, I'll have to take you. This is a homicide—you need to think carefully."

Wang Song's eyes were bloodshot; he remained silent.

"I don't know what promises your backers made you, but I ask you to consider: now, at this point, do you really think those promises can still be fulfilled?" Lei Xin urged gently.

"If I talk… will it count as… cooperation? Meritorious conduct?" Wang Song asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it will," Lei Xin switched into his manipulative mode, smiling in affirmation.

"How long will I be sentenced?" Wang Song stared intently at Lei Xin.

"That depends on the nature. If you don't talk, you're an instigator—equivalent to joint criminal activity, intentional homicide, and there were two victims…" Lei Xin paused, then added: "If you clearly identify the mastermind and cooperate fully with our investigation, your sentence will be much lighter."

Wang Song took a deep breath, leaned back slightly, and whispered:

"It was Second Young Master Yuan Yulang."

After saying this, he paused briefly, then spoke more fluently:

"He sent me pictures and told me to send them to that guy. Second Young Master said he just couldn't stand Third Young Master—Third's mouth was too foul. He wanted to get back at him, humiliate him, maybe break a leg. He said Third's boyfriend wasn't an ordinary person. But they never expected…"

"We'll discuss what you thought back then later. Tell me exactly what you did," Lei Xin maintained full control of the interrogation rhythm—even as the answer emerged, his expression showed no change.

…