Chapter 448: Made an Effort

Dawn.

Bai Liu Jian, who hadn't eaten in a day and night, stared with bloodshot eyes at the wall in the Criminal Investigation Team's main office, watching the list grow and shrink.

He had deployed nearly all his men—over a hundred detectives, more than twenty sent to Ma Family Village, fifty to sixty dispatched to surrounding villages, and the remaining fifty to sixty divided into teams of four to cover nearby towns, townships, and counties, with others sent to detention centers and prisons.

Every detective was doing interview statements, and the content was essentially the screening of individuals released after serving sentences in Ma Family Village and surrounding areas.

This kind of work, if you said it was simple, it was simple—but if you wanted to do it thoroughly, without missing a single person, it tested grassroots public security and governance ability to the utmost. In big Western cities, where police and residents distrusted each other, such work would be impossible.

The Shiting County Criminal Investigation Team often did similar work; in fact, Bai Liu Jian primarily relied on screening to solve cases.

Unlike what ordinary people imagined, normal detectives, especially veteran ones, didn't possess much more criminal investigation skill than amateur enthusiasts—in fact, they usually had less.

As for how veteran detectives solved cases, beyond accumulated experience passed down orally, they relied more on stern and fierce gazes, stern and fierce expressions, stern and fierce laws, plus tireless legs and a bit of luck.

Now was the time to use legs and luck.

Though filled with anticipation, Bai Liu Jian didn't know if the killer was even among the ex-offenders, nor when he'd find him—and this mix of hope and dread had powerfully stirred his emotions.

It was like gambling, but far more intense than gambling.

Ordinary gamblers bet money or their fortunes; Bai Liu Jian was now betting lives.

One case, three corpses, home invasion robbery-murder—each word was an aggravating factor for the death penalty. Whoever was caught, even with major meritorious service, could not escape execution. At best, execution might be delayed two years.

"Chief Bai, how's it going?" Huang Huang Qiang entered, wearing a smug, debt-collector's grin.

Bai Liu Jian was starting to dread seeing him; after two dry coughs, he replied: "What can I do? Just going house by house."

"Don't rush. Better three steps slow than one slip." Huang Huang Qiang's tone was unexpectedly gentle, calming Bai Liu Jian's nerves.

As fellow Criminal Investigation Team Chiefs, Bai Liu Jian knew how tense everyone was in this position. If Lu Weina had a short temper, then anyone who'd served as Chief would think Lu Weina was already a gentle dog.

In an instant, Bai Liu Jian realized: "You're afraid I won't catch him and tarnish Jiang Yuan's reputation?"

Huang Huang Qiang smiled, admitting: "Jiang Yuan has dominated Shannan for so long—our solved homicide cold cases outnumber those of an entire county bureau. If your investigation misses something, people will really start yelling."

"It's just a few villages. It won't come to that." Bai Liu Jian snorted.

Huang Huang Qiang smiled: "Best if it goes smoothly. If not, we can always bring in Xu Xu Taining."

Bai Liu Jian froze, his brow slowly furrowing: "Are you threatening me?"

"What threat is that?" Huang Huang Qiang grinned, showing his canine teeth—his expression was pure, unadulterated threat.

If you can't make a decent three-yuan noodle, we'll eat a three-hundred-yuan crab-roe noodle.

Huang Huang Qiang wasn't bluffing. With the current reputation of Jiang Yuan's Cold Case Unit, if he insisted on bringing in Xu Xu Taining, Shiting County would likely buckle.

A three-dead homicide cold case—when you have a chance to solve it, why wouldn't you bring in Xu Xu Taining?

You say you're short on funds? Qinghe City Bureau and Provincial Bureau would likely fund part of it; Shiting County Bureau would chip in part; and everyone would be expected to work overtime.

If you refuse—then solve it yourself. If communication fails, superiors might even impose a deadline.

If you can't grasp the pressure here, imagine a student taking a final exam, stuck on the last bonus question, when the teacher suddenly announces: the exam duration is fixed, you must complete the bonus question, and your ranking depends solely on the bonus score.

In this world, no zero is consequence-free.

"Don't assume every county's Criminal Investigation Team is like yours in Ningtai." Bai Liu Jian was indeed afraid of Huang Huang Qiang, genuinely worried the case wouldn't be solved, and terrified the legendary Xu Xu Taining would make the county bureau go bankrupt over one case—but Bai Liu Jian lost the battle, not the man; his tone remained unyielding.

Huang Huang Qiang stared at Bai Liu Jian: "Our Ningtai County's criminal investigation ranking has always been above yours in Shiting."

"You have money, and you have Jiang Yuan, a college-educated forensic expert. But our frontline detectives' tactical skills are absolutely not inferior to those in big cities!" Bai Liu Jian spoke with absolute confidence.

Huang Huang Qiang didn't even bother refuting him; he changed subject: "When you screen out suitable candidates and gather a few, send them to Jiang Yuan at once. He checks constantly. If you find the killer, stop screening. Expand the scope, don't narrow it—include those previously detained for public order offenses…"

"Understood." Bai Liu Jian paused, then added: "Don't let Jiang Yuan miss anything."

"Don't worry." Huang Huang Qiang grinned like his teeth were growing.

…

Ma Family Village.

Mu Mu Zhiyang followed Shiting County detectives, visiting homes to take statements.

His work was peripheral; real detectives worked with local police and village cadres, systematically interviewing relatives and associates of the victim, Ma Jun.

Shiting County had its own priority list: villagers who had grudges or even hatred toward Ma Jun.

Families here had lived side by side for centuries—some close, others deeply resentful. Bai Liu Jian focused on hatred, since Ma Family Village's limited resources hardly justified killing three people.

The detectives he sent naturally prioritized questioning those on the list and their relatives.

Mu Mu Zhiyang and several from Jiang Yuan's Cold Case Unit were sent to reinforce this effort, but were assigned to less critical interviews. Even so, Shiting detectives didn't fully trust them and still assigned local officers to accompany them.

Detectives trusted no one—it was like a professional affliction, a sickness that wore you down.

Mu Mu Zhiyang's was milder.

He'd spent too long following Jiang Yuan, executing too many of his orders—he'd come to believe in certain things.

While taking statements in Ma Family Village, Mu Mu Zhiyang felt no urgency to extract information—he chatted like a neighbor, pulling up chairs to talk with elderly residents.

Villages today were filled only with elders and children; they'd talked everything to death, and any new gossip spread from morning to night.

A young man like Mu Mu Zhiyang, in full uniform, willing to sit and chat with old folks, was nearly more popular than the story of Ma Jun's death.

Logically, no one had anything to hide. Ma Jun was from Ma Family Village; his entire family was dead except one son, now working in Changyang City. Villagers should help police find the killer.

But when police asked them to describe relatives or friends with criminal records, people began murmuring.

After visiting a few homes, Mu Mu Zhiyang had gained some experience; he chatted, smiling: "You've never had dealings with police before, right? What do you do when something's stolen from your field?"

"If crops disappear, it's not theft. If they're ripe and taken, it's like helping someone out. If unripe ones vanish, it's wasteful—but no one reports it." The old woman sat in the kitchen, smoking pork over firewood, chatting with Mu Mu Zhiyang.

Smoking pork was traditional around Shiting County—the region was too humid; without smoking, winter pigs would rot by spring or early summer.

Traditionally, smoked pork hung over the stove, getting smoked during daily cooking. But modern diets consumed more meat; hanging a few strips wasn't enough. Elders still supplied smoked pork for their children, some even smoking extra to sell to itinerant peddlers for extra income.

Mu Mu Zhiyang, smelling the smoked pork, continued chatting about it. He had no quota—his day was open-ended.

After a while, talking about stolen goods, the old woman said: "Back then, Ma Ma Zhongmou's eldest grandson was the naughtiest—he stole my smoked pork, sold it for cash, then went to town to play video games. He's grown up now, and never comes back."

She poked the fire, letting smoke rise, then added: "Nowadays, all the fields lie fallow. Nothing's grown, no one eats anything—not even smoked pork gets stolen anymore."

Mu Mu Zhiyang flipped through his notebook: "What's your Ma Ma Zhongmou's eldest grandson's name?"

The old woman thought: "Ma… Ma Jiuhuang."

"Oh, did Ma Ma Jiuhuang ever go to prison?" Mu Mu Zhiyang recorded.

"No prison. Just stealing pork—it's not worth prison."

"So where did he go to work after that? Did he find a job?"

"I don't know. Ma Ma Zhongmou died years ago—he never had luck in life…"

Mu Mu Zhiyang finished his note, chatted a bit more, then recorded again.

When he left, he visited the next household, using the same approach—repeating the new information he'd gathered, verifying details casually.

Mu Mu Zhiyang was now very familiar with screening; he'd participated in two or three screenings organized by Xu Xu Taining. Xu's provincial experts or specialists from Changyang often gave brief training sessions.

Now, if asked to lead a screening himself, he'd be out of his depth—but as a participant, he was already doing very well.

After completing five interviews, half the day was gone.

Mu Mu Zhiyang reported to the team leader, then located the addresses of screened individuals and sent messages to detectives dispatched to those areas.

Shiting County had dozens of detectives scattered across the region; once someone was screened, detectives assigned to that locality continued questioning.

Local detectives could be asked for help or accompaniment, but borrowing them to directly handle cases was unrealistic.

After finishing his work, Mu Mu Zhiyang returned to Shiting County, slept well that night, and came back the next day to help again.

Two days passed. On the third morning, Mu Mu Zhiyang arrived early at the bureau to catch a ride and saw Bai Liu Jian and others, hair slicked, faces powdered, already posing on the steps.

"What's this?" Mu Mu Zhiyang sensed something, quickly grabbed a familiar detective.

"Oh, Detective Mu is here!" the detective shouted loudly, drawing Bai Liu Jian's attention.

Mu Mu Zhiyang, confused, was pushed down to the steps and began posing too.

"Little Mu's here."

"Detective Mu, look here."

"Mu Mu Zhiyang, you've worked hard!"

The familiar scene and phrases made Mu Mu Zhiyang instinctively pat his arms and legs, thinking: Did I get injured the past two days and not realize it?

Fortunately, Wang Wang Chuan ran over and whispered: "The Ma Ma Jiuhuang you dug up—he shared a cell with the killer."

Ma Ma Jiuhuang was just a fellow villager of Ma Jun; their kinship was distant beyond five generations, and the cellmate connection was extremely tenuous. Mu Mu Zhiyang was stunned: "Such a weak link can still connect?"

"Height, weight, age, shoe size—so many factors together narrow down the list of ex-offenders significantly." Wang Wang Chuan paused. "Ma Ma Jiuhuang's a habitual thief. Heard he's trying hard to earn merit."

"Height, weight, age, shoe size—so many factors combined, there aren't many convicts who meet the criteria," Wang Wang Chuan paused, then said, "Ma Ma Jiuhuang is a habitual thief; hearing he could earn merit, he put in real effort."