Chapter 226: The Water Recedes… The Stones Are Revealed

The interrogation room's lights were blinding.

Not gentle at all.

Stay too long, and you get restless, annoyed.

"The second young master found me…" Wang Song spoke, anxious.

"State your name."

"Yuan Yulang found me, asked me to help with something. Because I'm related to one of his classmates… I used to think knowing a Yuan was impressive. Turns out he's… so I… I did it." Wang Song's voice rose as he spoke.

Nervous, excited, angry, resentful.

Without further questioning from Lei Xin, Wang Song continued:

"Yuan Yulang took me out for dinner alone—probably to size me up—then asked if I'd be willing to take a risk. Of course I said yes."

"I never thought it was illegal," Wang Song defended himself.

"I considered refusing, but he pulled out a huge stack of cash. My house was being renovated, I needed money, so I took it. I thought, I'm already in this deep—refusing the second young master now would just make him my enemy."

A whole suitcase full of cash—five hundred thousand. I counted it several times. Yeah, many times. Was it really only five hundred thousand for the entire suitcase? I hadn't seen that much cash in ages. I'm support staff—I was stunned by how thick the suitcase was.

"We met twice more, always outside, just drinking tea. Then the plan was set."

Lei Xin listened to Wang Song's account, knowing half of it was true, half fabricated.

But as long as he was willing to talk, Lei Xin let him talk.

As for drilling down on details—there was plenty of time and energy for that: exact times of meals, exact meeting times—could be verified through surveillance footage, security cameras, or interviewing waitstaff.

With so many location apps and cameras today, just finding a few places where both men appeared was enough to confirm the facts.

For any case, it's always about three things: people, money, objects.

Once relationships among people are established, roles and hierarchies become clear. Once financial ties are confirmed, the case's structure emerges. Objects serve as supplementary evidence, corroborating events and relationships.

Beyond that, Wang Song's inner thoughts, his guesses about Yuan Yulang's intentions—none of it mattered.

The law cares about actions, not intentions. If you did it, you did it. If you didn't, you didn't.

"Yuan Yulang planned to murder Yuan Yutang. When did you first learn of this…" Lei Xin suddenly asked.

Wang Song lowered his head, thought, then whispered: "About a year ago. Probably ten months."

"Where did the photos come from?"

"Yuan Yulang gave them to me."

"Who did he hire to take them?" Lei Xin pressed for details.

Details are extremely hard to fake, because they're branches—and the number of branches vastly outnumbers the main trunk.

No one can fill in every detail. If they could, they'd collapse under the weight of the third layer.

Wang Song shook his head: "I don't know who specifically took them."

Then why decide to kill now? You had a whole year with no action—why act now? Lei Xin had many questions; the case was full of ambiguous areas.

Of course, Lei Xin had some suspicions. In these mansion melodramas, no matter the deaths, the answer always lies among family members.

But suspicions are just suspicions—they need witnesses to confirm them.

Police rely on evidence, not stories.

Wang Song mumbled for a while, then said: "The chairman's study was burglarized. Yuan Yulang thought it was a good opportunity."

"A good opportunity? Why?"

"While the water's muddy, fish can be caught. Because the eldest and third sons have been feuding—if someone dies, everyone will blame the other. Second young master… Yuan Yulang doesn't like taking initiative. He's always seemed passive on the surface, but he has ideas—he cares more than third young master."

Lei Xin wanted to ask what other muddy-water schemes Yuan Yulang had pulled, but held back, instead asking: "Be specific—how did he contact you?"

"There was a dedicated email account…"

"The email address and password."

Lei Xin asked more and more. The case of Yuan Yulang inciting murder was gradually becoming clear.

There were witnesses, physical evidence, motive, and sequence—overall evidence might be sparse, but it was enough.

Team leader Lei Xin felt a surge of excitement. Too bad he had no cigarette—he could've smoked one whole pack.

Incitement-to-murder cases are always among the hardest in homicide investigations.

Defining what constitutes incitement is inherently difficult—where's the line?

If this case could be closed, it would be a major achievement.

At the same time, detectives from the Forward District had brought back the second son, Yuan Yulang.

Yuan Yulang was slightly overweight, though his belly wasn't large; his face was puffy, chubby, giving the impression of someone easily bullied.

He arrived with a lawyer from Jianyuan Company, looking innocent, as if to say: Don't dare mistreat me—I've got my father's backing.

The lawyer was smug, professional, wearing an expensive suit.

But when Yuan Yulang saw Wang Song, head bowed, his expression grew slightly unnatural.

He nervously tugged at his collar.

Lei Xin gave him a grin full of yellow teeth.

"Come in," Lei Xin waved, friendly.

Yuan Yulang composed himself, strode in with head high.

The lawyer was barred outside.

"I'll wait outside. Remember what I told you…" the lawyer added his final warning.

Yuan Yulang impatiently grunted twice. Just before entering the interrogation room, he turned back—and saw the lawyer in his Burberry-custom suit handing out cigarettes to several officers. Yuan Yulang's legs went weak.

He hadn't realized how oppressive the police interrogation room could feel.

Yuan Yulang was like a panda suddenly released from its keeper into the wild, told it was "reintroduction."

Your mother's wild, your mother's reintroduction—did you ask the panda's opinion?

Did it sign and stamp? Did it hold up its ID and recite its ID number? Can you prove it was mentally competent when it signed?

Yuan Yulang felt his own mind slipping.

Plotting schemes behind a desk is easy.

But once pulled out of the office, out of the desk—what's the world like? Yuan Yulang didn't know.

At this moment, he was like a baby separated from its parent—his puffy cheeks trembled involuntarily.

Ten times more nervous than Wang Song.

Lei Xin saw it—he knew it was over.

Don't be stupid enough to commit a crime. Once you're seated here, you realize how high the sky is, how thick the earth is.

Just a few feet down.

…

Yuan Jiansheng appeared at the Forward District police station only after the interrogation ended.

He didn't ask to see Yuan Yulang—said he was just there to learn the case details.

Yuan Yuming followed, face expressionless. But the way he strained to keep his skin taut betrayed a flicker of inner thought.

Yuan Yuming was in his forties, looked even more prosperous than Yuan Yulang, dressed plainly—all domestic brands. Even his watch was a Seagull.

Jiang Yuan, viewing Yuan Yuming through a forensic lens, combined with his "Fashion Sense" skill, concluded: "Fake."

Wearing all domestic-brand suits and shoes was rare. Wearing a Seagull watch was ridiculous. A truly frugal person wouldn't waste money like that.

Yuan Jiansheng's face was pale, supported by his daughter Yuan Yushan, seated as Lei Xin and others explained the case.

Jiang Yuan sat quietly beside him—no one invited him to speak, and Huang Qiangmin's group didn't want him stepping forward now.

Yuan Yushan, Yuan Jiansheng's daughter, looked twenty to thirty, gently supporting her father—clearly filial.

She wore a white Chanel blouse paired with a black Chanel pencil skirt, her short, sleek black hair cut neatly at her ears.

Jiang Yuan glanced at her and thought: she knew how to dress—played to her strengths, hid her weaknesses. Her thighs were slightly fleshy, calves slender, arms long, neck long, features symmetrical, waist not slim but overall balanced—she'd make a beautiful corpse.

She said nothing, just stayed by Yuan Jiansheng's side.

As the case unfolded, the flesh on Yuan Jiansheng's cheeks slowly sagged.

In fact, Lei Xin had already omitted and condensed the details—but as a father, Yuan Jiansheng still couldn't bear it.

"Dad, don't listen to the details," Yuan Yuming stepped forward.

Unexpectedly, Yuan Jiansheng erupted: "That email account—Yuan Yulang's WeChat—you've had people spying on him, haven't you?"

Yuan Yuming froze: "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"You've been watching Yuan Yulang for years. He thought he was hiding, but everyone around him sold him out to you long ago." Yuan Jiansheng laughed bitterly.

Yuan Yuming stood speechless.

Yuan Jiansheng sighed: "We run a company. Employees come and go. People work for money—they'll wait two, three, five years. Who'll wait seven or eight years for him to 'endure'? Better to take your money, play both sides, and just quit if needed."

Yuan Yuming realized his father knew everything: "I just paid off a few people around him…"

"That bird around him? Could he keep a secret?" Yuan Jiansheng's face grew sadder: "Your brothers are killing each other—and you want to profit from it? You watched Yuan Yutang get murdered… how could you bear it?"

Yuan Yuming panicked, glanced at the officers, whispered: "Dad, let's go home and talk."

"No need to talk anymore. Do as you will," Yuan Jiansheng stood. "I'll pretend I have no son."

Yuan Jiansheng took his daughter Yuan Yushan's hand and walked out.

Yuan Yuming felt his scalp tighten. His power, his wealth—all came from his father.

In the past, he'd felt naturally entitled to inherit—confident, unshakable.

But today, his father felt alien, terrifying.

"Dad," Yuan Yuming's bulky body hurried to his father's side, whispering: "Dad, I have so much to handle every day—how could I possibly watch his anonymous WeChat accounts all day? I was just as surprised when he did this…"

"You must have someone monitoring these things. When they saw such critical information, why didn't they report it?" Yuan Jiansheng's tone was calm: "Shall I call them in for confrontation?"

Yuan Yuming's face turned pale again; he grabbed Yuan Jiansheng's arm and whispered, "Dad, give me one more chance."

Yuan Jiansheng shook his head firmly, then glanced at his daughter Yuan Yushan, gently patting her hand and saying, "Starting tomorrow, Yushan will intern at the company. You'll take a temporary break."

Turning to the detectives, Yuan Jiansheng bowed slightly and said, "Thank you all. You've worked hard."

He then nodded to Huang Qiang and Jiang Yuan and added, "I thought this was a minor case, but it turned out… Once things at the company settle down a bit, I'll treat you both to dinner."

Huang Qiang and Jiang Yuan didn't know what to say.

This man was the father of both the victim and the perpetrator—whether they should recuse themselves was uncertain.

Yuan Jiansheng paused, then thanked the detectives from Qinghe City Bureau and Qianjin District separately.

This time, his daughter Yuan Yushan lagged two steps behind and did not follow immediately; instead, while others were speaking, she walked up to Jiang Yuan, stood before him, and said seriously, "Thank you, Forensic Jiang. Let's meet again sometime."

"No thanks needed. Please accept my condolences," Jiang Yuan replied politely.

Yuan Yushan looked at Jiang Yuan and said, "I will."

Yuan Yushan's voice and gaze were equally clear—she presented a polished public image.

Yet, she didn't seem like the family of a victim—or of a perpetrator.