Chapter 286

Zhang Yingkui.

Owner of Di Shang Car Wash, primary suspect in the serial carjacking case, boyfriend, native of Ningtai, familiar with local road conditions, motorcycle enthusiast, ten-year driving record, audacious to the point of recklessness, weight maintainer, fugitive planning mastermind.

He had a contingency plan.

From the moment he rented this ground-floor car wash, Zhang Yingkui had already considered what to do if the police showed up.

Even if no police came, if a rival showed up, his first choice was always to run.

This time was no different; the moment Zhang Yingkui spotted a sudden influx of police officers, he turned and bolted.

Between the first and second floors was a door; if he pushed it open, he could reach the alley behind, then a network of interconnected roads. If the pursuing officers were slow, he could even climb over the wall and escape through the neighboring property.

Zhang Yingkui turned, his hand just touching the windowsill, when a detective leapt forward and grabbed him.

"So desperate?" Zhang Yingkui was stunned. He didn't know how murderers behaved when caught, but his predecessors, and even himself during his last arrest for carjacking, were always escorted away when surrounded—he'd even seen a senior officer sprint off, watched by the police officers.

Some middle-aged and elderly detectives lacked stamina but had sharp judgment; they'd glance at your starting posture and know they couldn't catch you, so they calmly gave up.

But this time, Zhang Yingkui faced a full-body tackle.

How high are these stairs? Doesn't falling hurt? What if you break a tooth? Don't you know how expensive a single tooth implant is now?

Zhang Yingkui thought, some rookie, and with that thought, he executed a professional backward step, turned, gripped the windowsill again, pushed with his waist—and his body rose instantly…

Puff.

Another detective lunged and yanked him down.

Puff puff.

Two more detectives rushed over and pinned Zhang Yingkui down. Puff!

Zhang Yingkui's ass farted out from under the pressure.

"Stop struggling!" The detectives were furious.

So many people are watching! Resisting is one thing—we can just work harder and show off our unit's bravery—but farting? That's an insult.

Puff puff puff.

More detectives stormed up the stairs, pinning Zhang Yingkui down tightly—each arm held by two men, ensuring even if you broke your forearm, you couldn't escape.

"Easy, easy! Guys, you've got the wrong guy!" Zhang Yingkui screamed wildly. He knew he'd committed crimes, but he figured the police must have the wrong person—no one this badly treated could be innocent unless they were drenched in blood.

Zhang Yingkui was even more afraid they'd mistaken him and then drag up his past offenses during questioning.

"What's your name?" A detective who'd freed himself asked.

Zhang Yingkui hurriedly replied: "Zhang Yingkui—Zhang with the bow and long, I'm an honest citizen…"

"You're the one. We're the Ningtai County Criminal Investigation Unit. Here's my badge."

The detective who'd just climbed up showed Zhang Yingkui his credentials and said: "Do you know why we're here?"

Zhang Yingkui struggled slightly—no chance of escape—and sighed: "This can't be serious."

"Come on, let's go back and talk properly." A detective cuffed him, and seven or eight men surrounded him as they headed out the door.

Outside the car wash, a police car was already waiting.

In front of it stood seven or eight people, curiously watching.

Zhang Yingkui was shoved into the police car.

At that moment, four more vehicles slowly pulled over to the roadside. Click click click click.

As doors opened one after another, another group of sweaty men appeared—some in plainclothes, some in uniforms; no doubt, all police.

"That's him?"

"Smells right."

"Wow, haven't seen someone with over three years on their record in ages."

The group chatted as they slowly gathered around the police car holding Zhang Yingkui.

Everyone moved slowly, like rainwater rising and gradually pooling.

But Zhang Yingkui, locked inside, cuffed, began to feel suffocated—especially when someone stuck their head into the car, making him feel violated.

Like a little mouse crouched in its burrow, watched by a snake's head.

Zhang Yingkui's body prickled with goosebumps; he felt something was deeply wrong, and couldn't help blurting: "My name is Zhang Yingkui—Zhang with the bow and long, Ying as in 'should,' Kui as in 'big earth earth' written top-down—you've got the wrong guy!"

"No mistake. It's you," the officer beside him said calmly.

"What did I do? Why are you arresting me like this?" Zhang Yingkui trembled.

"What do you think?" The police wouldn't say anything now—they just watched Zhang Yingkui, waiting for him to confess.

Zhang Yingkui felt the air was utterly wrong. He glanced back at his car wash, his nose tingled with tears—he felt unfairly treated, and snapped: "I've been clean for a year and a half! Why are you still coming after me? This is ridiculous!"

"Unfair."

"You've got so many people—you're trying to frame me."

"What's happened to the underworld?"

The police laughed and joked, barely paying him any attention.

They were all veterans used to being out in the field—who wanted to sit in an office, constantly under the boss's watchful eye?

Now they finally had a chance to get out—sunny skies, fresh air, every part of them felt comfortable.

As for Zhang Yingkui, this had nothing to do with him. Ningtai County Bureau, Criminal Investigation Unit, Image Room.

The original "Four-Eyes" Zhuang Wei stared at the screen showing the scene like a zombie horde surrounding a vehicle, dumbfounded, and asked Jiang Yuan: "Do you guys really arrest people like this now?"

Jiang Yuan recalled his own arrest scenes and slowly nodded: "Pretty much… yeah. Not this extreme, but there are always a lot of people."

A newly transferred detective glanced at the two of them with mild disdain, thinking: Where do you even get this kind of manpower? You've probably never seen more than a few cases…

Just then, Jiang Yuan's phone rang.

"I'll take this." Jiang Yuan glanced at his phone and answered: "Comrade Yu…"

Calling someone "Comrade Yu" usually meant their branch chief.

Several people immediately thought of the rumors about Jiang Yuan selling himself outside—they all perked up their ears, but outwardly acted nonchalant, busy with their own tasks.

Yu Wenshu first warmly called Jiang Yuan's name, then continued: "We've got a new case today—the victim is a construction site accountant. No surveillance footage, over 100, 00 yuan missing. Everyone on-site has an alibi. Suspected to be an outsider who robbed and killed… I'd like you to come take a look."

There are two kinds of robbery cases: one is extremely easy to solve—the criminal has terrible anti-investigation skills, sometimes leaving behind an ID card or phone—this isn't a joke, just an example.

The other kind is extremely hard to solve. Their nature—water has no constant form, troops have no constant strategy—the difficulty usually lies in random variables.

Jiang Yuan hesitated slightly, then said: "I'll head to Changyang now, but I'll need to tell Huang Da."

"Mm… I already told him. I've had them secure the scene."

"Alright, I'm leaving right away." Jiang Yuan hung up, smiled at Zhuang Wei, and said: "Well, I'm off again. Thanks, everyone."

"You're the one who's working hard," Zhuang Wei said, watching Jiang Yuan like a mercenary leaving for battle, selling his body to bring money and resources back to his homeland.

Jiang Yuan waved his hand and turned to leave—his long legs took three or four strides and he was gone.

Leaving the Image Room, he entered the old building of the Criminal Investigation Unit.

Huang Qiang had already brewed a pot of fine tea in his office, called Jiang Yuan over to drink, and said: "This tea was given to me by an old comrade. Try it—you're from Jiang Village, after all."

"We really did produce tea in Jiang Village once," Jiang Yuan smiled as he sat down, slurped two sips, then handed Huang Qiang a Huazhi cigarette and said:

"I'll bring you some tea next time."

"No need for anything expensive. Not necessary."

"Won't be." Jiang Yuan smiled, then asked: "Have you and Comrade Yu settled it? How long will I be gone this time?"

"At most a week and a half. You must be back by November at the latest."

"Oh."

Huang Qiang spoke bluntly: "We've done exceptionally well this year—every indicator ranks among the top in the province. Our combat ranking isn't just number one among peer units—it might even be a record. In the final ten months, you need to come back and protect our hard-won results."

Jiang Yuan didn't hesitate: "Alright."

Huang Qiang exhaled in relief—he'd feared Jiang Yuan might throw a tantrum now. The more skilled the technician, the more likely they were to act up at this moment.

"Then I'm heading straight to Changyang." Jiang Yuan finished his tea and stood up.

"Alright, I won't see you off. Oh—go see your master." Huang Qiang coughed twice and added: "Don't make a big scene."

Jiang Yuan, puzzled, went upstairs to the Forensic Office and found Wu Jun counting on his fingers.

"Master." Jiang Yuan called out.

"Oh! You scared me! Going to Changyang again?" Wu Jun asked.

"Yes. They're pressing hard—the scene is still intact."

"Then hurry. I made you a red goose egg—one's worth seven. Bow to Guan Yu, the yellow paper's under the cabinet—take it and burn it. Oh, do you drink the ash from the talisman paper?"

"I burned the talisman paper with a metal mesh and alcohol lamp—very clean. If you're not driving, soak the ash in wine—it's healthier than your salmon."

Jiang Yuan bowed to Guan Yu as usual, burned the yellow paper, then peeled the egg: "I'll skip the ash—I'll just eat the egg and leave."

"Pfft pfft pfft. Just eat and go, fine. Alright, drive carefully. Burn the talisman paper—I'll drink some for you." Wu Jun waved his hand.

Jiang Yuan was puzzled: "Will you drinking it help?"

"Of course it helps. This is essentially a contract. Old ladies used to pray for their children's safety—I can pray for my disciple's safety." Wu Jun opened a bottle of iced black tea, poured some into a cup, and added: "Drinking alcohol at work is bad—fruit juice is fine."

Jiang Yuan felt embarrassed, stepped forward, poured half a cup, tasted it, then waved his hand: "Next time, just mix it into chili sauce and stuff it in a steamed bun."

He joked—Wu Jun entered a serious thinking phase.

--to proceed to review