Chapter 370: Garage Inspection

The newly renovated garage was bright and clean.

This garage is for Jiang Village residents themselves, with higher ceilings and much larger parking spaces.

The cars Jiang Village people like—or the pitfalls they've fallen into—are displayed here in physical form.

"Besides Uncle Seven, who else entered the garage?"

Jiang Yuan wore a head cover and shoe covers, then put on gloves and a mask while asking. Even though the case was minor, every step had to be followed properly.

Jiang Fuzhen thought for a moment and said, "Just your Third Uncle, a few people from the village committee, your Grandpa and the others who came to take a look. Your Third Grandpa probably came by too, taking his grandson for a walk. A few younger folks came to help carry the liquor, and a few passersby…"

Jiang Yuan was speechless and said, "Write a list for Mu Zhiyang…"

"Have the surveillance room staff write it for you," Jiang Fuzhen snapped, annoyed at being ordered around by his son. "They see everyone coming and going. Let them tell you. I'm in a hurry to get back and flip the pot—I braised a big goose today, threw in some beef ribs, boiled tofu and pig intestines, and I'm about to stir-fry a pot of hotpot base with extra beef tallow. You young folks can dip vegetables in it…"

Ordinary witnesses couldn't just leave whenever they wanted. But since Jiang Fuzhen said that, Jiang Yuan had no choice but to bow respectfully and say, "Dad, take your time, no rush."

"Got it." Jiang Fuzhen waved his hand and introduced a few new elderly residents: "The one wearing the mask is Jiang Yuan—he's here today to investigate Uncle Seven's case."

"Uncle Seven is dead?" The new old man was confused.

"No, he's fine. Uncle Seven lost a few cases of liquor, so I called Jiang Yuan and the others to help look for them…"

"Uncle Seven lost his mind. There are half a platoon of people here—do you think a few cases of liquor are enough to justify this?" The old man spoke, but still walked over curiously to watch the spectacle.

Most were just here for the spectacle.

As the holiday approached, the Chinese instinctively felt a rust-like stagnation inside them, making them restless and unwilling to move.

Villagers who heard police had arrived at the parking lot gradually came downstairs to watch.

Xiang Geng sprinted over from the surveillance room to report to Jiang Yuan. He was still thin and weak, his fingers and teeth noticeably yellower, looking like someone whose nicotine cravings had been fully satisfied—a postmodern opium smoker's appearance.

Jiang Yuan listened as Xiang Geng repeated the list of people entering and exiting the garage, then gave up entirely and said, "Just send the list to Mu Zhiyang later, and note the times of entry and exit on the back."

"Understood." Xiang Geng had been working in the surveillance room since the beginning and had always received Jiang Yuan's guidance; he was used to being ordered around by him.

"Did you bring the surveillance footage?" Jiang Yuan asked about the copy.

"Brought it." Xiang Geng quickly opened his laptop and played the theft footage, saying, "When your Uncle Seven came looking, I started reviewing it backwards. This guy stole for about three consecutive days."

"Stole for three days straight?"

"Yeah. One case on the first day, two on the second, two on the third. Your Uncle Seven only noticed yesterday—he didn't come today either…" Xiang Geng shrugged.

The victim was laid-back; the thief was equally laid-back.

Jiang Yuan watched the surveillance footage on the laptop, shining a flashlight on spots where the thief might have left fingerprints or DNA, then collected samples while asking, "You must know the renovation workers, right?"

"There's one they call Old Lei. His real name might be Wang Lei, but I'm not sure." Xiang Geng sighed. "He was picked up by the foreman from the renovation market—no ID or anything."

In small counties like Ningtai, renovation and construction still rely heavily on casual laborers.

Workers willing to take odd jobs—or those with no work that day—would gather at customary spots, holding up signs or just sitting with legs crossed. Foremen or individual homeowners would walk over, call out, ask prices, negotiate, and start work immediately.

That's how it worked.

No contracts, no ID checks. Foremen or homeowners might just ask for a surname, then refer to someone as "Master so-and-so" and get to work.

Workers might know each other—or might not. Whether they knew each other's details was entirely uncertain.

Jiang Yuan nodded understandingly and said, "I'll collect the fingerprints first, then take a look." If this were a murder case, Jiang Yuan would have sent people to scour the renovation market and nearby guesthouses.

These days, people need ID for everything—even getting a bus card.

Plus, more formal companies doing renovations might require ID. In short, a large-scale investigation could either confirm Old Lei's true identity—or reveal him as a fugitive or repeat offender.

But obviously, Jiang Yuan couldn't launch a hundred-person manhunt just to find a few cases of liquor for Uncle Seven. Even though he'd grown accustomed to this kind of investigation.

He didn't even plan to send anyone to question foremen or contractors.

Each pair of officers would need about two hours to question one person; determining the suspect's identity could mean interviewing dozens. Jiang Yuan would rely on fingerprints, DNA, and video footage to solve this.

Other officers stood nearby, seemingly unable to help. Crime scene investigation was Jiang Yuan's specialty; even Wang Chuan and others, now inside the garage, could only interfere with his work.

Liu Jinghui was even less useful—on a 15-inch screen, the suspect's face filled 14. inches; letting him take charge would be absurd. So the officers who came to help wandered the basement like inspectors, arms crossed, hands behind backs, or in pockets.

In essence, they were not much different from the villagers at this moment.

Several uncles, aunts, cousins, and nieces, having grown bored with Jiang Yuan's unchanged routine, pulled out their phones—taking photos, recording videos. Soon, everyone's Moments feeds began competing:

【Uncle Seven's garage was robbed—police arrived to investigate.】

【A thief came to the village—wonder if this ties into some case.】

【Since the garage robbery, Uncle Seven hasn't shown up—hope he's okay.】

【The renovation workers did it—lots of police showed up.】

By the time Uncle Seven burst out of his house, the villagers' Moments posts were already spreading.

"I just went to boil some meat, and you're doing all this?!" Uncle Seven descended into the garage, laughing and exasperated, telling everyone to stop spreading nonsense, while handing out cigarettes to the officers.

Smoke quickly filled the garage.

"Does Jiang Yuan smoke?" Uncle Seven stepped forward but was stopped at the garage entrance. "I don't smoke anymore," Jiang Yuan stretched his limbs. "The inspection's almost done. Don't come in. Don't use the garage for the next few days—we'll decide later."

"The liquor here was for the New Year… Oh well, I'll just buy a few more cases." Uncle Seven felt a bit embarrassed. "Actually, you didn't need to come back—I could've just called the police. Your dad's being too polite."

"It's fine."

"Your dad's been saying lately that you've solved many cases—you're amazing. Once you solve this one, Uncle will give you a big red envelope."

"No need. The total value is only around 20, 00. Besides, as a criminal investigator, I can't accept big red envelopes." Jiang Yuan quickly declined—Jiang Village's "big red envelopes" were likely illegal.

Uncle Seven chuckled without responding, then called out, "How about we take a few cases out and drink them tonight?"

"My dad already prepared liquor," Jiang Yuan said.

"Then that wouldn't be right… I'll join you for a drink later. Why don't we just stop all this and go upstairs and drink first!" Uncle Seven was extremely enthusiastic, chatting with Jiang Yuan just like they used to while working the fields.

Jiang Village had gradually grown wealthy, especially during the initial relocation phase, when cash was scarce.

Ningtai County couldn't afford to pay out cash to every household in Jiang Village at the foot of Mount Sining, so they adopted a model of collective village equity in the scenic area.

As Mount Sining and the Taihe Scenic Area were developed and promoted, they became nationally famous, and Jiang Village residents' assets ballooned—especially their annual share of ticket revenue, which was astronomical.

Afterward, Jiang Village residents began to diverge. Those like Jiang Fuzhen, who had feared poverty, used their money to start businesses, buy land, build houses and factories, then faced multiple relocations until they lost all interest in entrepreneurship.

Those like Uncle Seven, who had no big ambitions in their youth, ended up with assets at the village average—neither rich nor poor, which ironically calmed the emotional turbulence of sudden wealth.

Jiang Yuan was used to this kind of conversation—he talked while working, calm and harmonious.

Buzz.

Tang Jia's phone rang.

She listened for a few moments, her expression growing increasingly strange.

After ending the call, Tang Jia stepped forward and whispered, "Captain Jiang, the call was for you."

"What is it?" Jiang Yuan's expression turned serious immediately—had another murder occurred?

Tang Jia said, "The local police station contacted the Criminal Investigation Team. A man named Wang Lei confessed to stealing five cases of liquor, but nothing else—he didn't commit any other crimes, no murder, no dismemberment. He's turned himself in. I asked them to add me on WeChat and send a photo."

She pulled up WeChat and showed Jiang Yuan the newly opened chat.

On the six-inch screen, a 5. -inch headshot clearly showed the thief of Uncle Seven's liquor.

Jiang Yuan lowered his head, looking at the dozen or so evidence bags he'd collected, feeling an inexplicable sense of regret.