Chapter 291: Times Have Changed

About ten people were gathering near the crime scene.

This number fluctuated constantly; most passersby stood for a moment, grew bored, took a few photos, then walked away scrolling on their phones.

Some simply stood there, watching for a moment before immediately turning to their phones. Others, couples strolling along the road, paused to glance at the novelty, chatting and laughing as they went.

The short-haired man with the scar, however, stared fixedly toward the construction site and the police movements—his attention was unusually intense, though this distinction only became clear to Jiang Yuan after recognizing him.

Before recognizing him, Jiang Yuan hadn't paid any attention to the onlookers at all.

As mentioned earlier, today's killers primarily commit murders indoors, mostly in private residences.

So, ordinary criminals find it inconvenient to return to the crime scene.

As for this man, Jiang Yuan suspected it was his social status that drove him to monitor police activity.

He might even decide his next move based on the police's actions.

As Jiang Yuan thought this, he quietly picked up his phone and opened WeChat.

He hadn't joined the case's official group, so he posted in the "Changyang City Cold Case Task Force" WeChat group: Jiang Yuan: 【@Yu Wenshu, Branch Chief, I found the murderer—he's observing the scene right across from me, at the road opposite the construction gate.】

Liu Jinghui: 【???】

Tang Jia: 【The murderer? What do you mean "right across from you"? Do you have other colleagues nearby?】

Jiang Yuan: 【Short hair, green long pants, brown short-sleeve top, scar on right corner of eye.】

Liu Jinghui: 【Has he noticed you? Are you in danger?】

Jiang Yuan glanced with the corner of his eye—the murderer was still watching the scene—then continued typing on WeChat: 【No. Should be fine.】

Liu Jinghui: 【Don't be a hero. Don't act alone. This kind of killer—we can easily catch him after letting him run for two hours. I'm calling Yu Branch.】

Jiang Yuan put down his phone, looked up—and saw the scarred-eyed man had vanished from the crowd.

Jiang Yuan's heart leapt; he quickly scanned left and right—and saw the suspect, Qi Penghu, walking across the road, just seven or eight meters away.

Jiang Yuan's heartbeat accelerated involuntarily—thump, thump, thump.

He wasn't entirely afraid; after training in wrestling with his Uncle Qiang, Jiang Yuan felt he had some real fighting ability.

He might not match trained professionals, or even the tough guys from the First Squad, but he believed he could at least avoid being beaten to death by hand in the short term.

"What are you doing? Don't cross the police line," Jiang Yuan shouted, his tone impatient.

At the same time, Jiang Yuan snapped shut his laptop and grabbed a rod-like object with his left hand.

The Changyang City Criminal Investigation Brigade lived well—only now, as he gripped it, did Jiang Yuan realize he wasn't holding a baton, but a handheld metal detector.

It was about a meter long, telescoping—about forty centimeters when packed—and thicker than a baton, with a battery compartment in the middle; he didn't know how sturdy it was.

Qi Penghu held no weapon, but given he'd killed the cashier with two blows and jumped from the second floor unharmed, with a scar on his face, he was clearly dangerous.

Qi Penghu took two more steps, stopping fifteen meters from Jiang Yuan, and said: "I'm just passing by."

During those two exchanges, Jiang Yuan calmed down and asked: "Where are you from? Where are you going?"

Qi Penghu's gaze hardened slightly: "Just out for a stroll."

Wang Bo, who had just finished making the call, walked over, glaring suspiciously at Qi Penghu.

Meanwhile, several detectives began emerging from inside the construction site.

Qi Penghu noticed them, yet didn't move a step—instead, he pressed: "What's going on inside?"

Jiang Yuan naturally wouldn't answer; he simply said: "What's your name?"

Everyone asked questions, no one answered—conversation naturally stalled.

Qi Penghu smiled, pulling at the scar beside his eye—there was even a touch of swagger to it.

He didn't reply to Jiang Yuan, glanced left and right, then turned to leave.

Jiang Yuan cleared his throat, deliberately gruff: "I asked you a question—what's your name?"

Several officers emerging from the site naturally gathered toward them.

Meanwhile, officers deployed by Yu Wenshu attempted to flank Qi Penghu from the other side.

Wang Bo quickened his pace, moving to support Jiang Yuan.

Like Jiang Yuan, Qi Penghu was tense too; seeing the officers quicken their steps, he turned without hesitation and walked briskly in the opposite direction.

The officers behind him immediately broke into a light run.

Qi Penghu glanced back—and Jiang Yuan clearly saw the smile on his lips.

Then, Qi Penghu broke into a light run himself.

But he ran far more casually than the police; after ten or so steps, he suddenly accelerated toward the roadside wall.

A three- to four-meter-high wall—Qi Penghu crossed it as if walking on flat ground, one hand gripping and pulling, and he was over.

Thud.

Jiang Yuan heard the sound of his feet hitting the ground.

He could even picture the exact posture of the footprints—surely similar to those beneath the crime scene.

The wall he jumped into belonged to a small organization, but its gate was dozens of meters away; by the time the police ran inside, Qi Penghu was already gone, vanished somewhere else.

Wang Bo didn't chase after him; as a technical officer, he looked at Jiang Yuan with slight tension: "What just happened?"

"The murderer probably wanted to check our progress before deciding his next move," Jiang Yuan guessed with experience.

Over a hundred thousand yuan in cash was stolen; such a large sum is nearly impossible to carry around today, with security checks everywhere.

The best option for the murderer might be driving—he'd need to know how to drive and own a car.

Beyond that, experienced fugitives typically carry food and water in their vehicles, to avoid being trapped if they can't enter or leave the city freely.

And beyond that, Qi Penghu might also need to establish new local relationships—perhaps a new girlfriend—he'd need to soothe them properly.

Perhaps Qi Penghu wanted to assess the police's progress before deciding whether to flee.

Only those who've spent years on the run truly understand how difficult and exhausting finding a place to hide can be.

Of course, confidence born of skill matters too—this guy could leap over a three- to four-meter wall effortlessly, so he wasn't afraid to get close to police.

But Jiang Yuan knew this man had essentially buried himself.

He might have escaped police before, perhaps even easily—but back then,

he was merely a fugitive from theft and robbery.

Now, he was a fugitive from robbery and murder—with the added aggravation of openly provoking police.

Jiang Yuan glanced back at the construction site—Yu Wenshu indeed rushed out in a hurry.

"Is Jiang Yuan hurt?" Yu Wenshu asked first upon seeing him.

"No. We made eye contact, no physical contact." Jiang Yuan set down the metal detector and opened his laptop, pulling up Qi Penghu's photo again.

"Send it to everyone," Yu Wenshu grunted, then began issuing orders.

Several police cars roared to life.

Jiang Yuan lowered his gaze; his pounding heart steadied. He wasn't worried about the chase—given the current situation and the officers' competence, escape was nearly impossible.

Times have changed—for fugitives too.

--to proceed with inspection