Chapter 46: Chapter Forty-Six: Stakeout

Wei Zhenguo called just as Jiang Yuan was having dinner at home.

After answering the call, Jiang Yuan said, “Understood, I’m heading back right away,” and immediately stood up to change clothes.

Verifying fingerprints and related information is best done back at the office.

Watching his son rise from the table, still dipping yellow beef in Hunan chili sauce—the heretical way—Jiang Fuzhen grew anxious: “Someone died? Shouldn’t you take something to eat on the way? You’ll be working late tonight, and stuff bought outside isn’t good enough…”

“No one died.” Jiang Yuan coughed twice. “Whether someone did or not, I can’t say. Take some food… take some with you.”

At this hour, the canteen would be closed, and it wouldn’t be appropriate to go to the police dog unit to find Luo Na and the others.

Fingerprint analysis may look easy, but it’s mentally exhausting; without eating, you’ll soon be scratching your head and pacing from hunger.

“Drive instead. At this hour, riding an electric scooter isn’t safe.” Jiang Fuzhen pointed again at the key rack.

Jiang Yuan hesitated only two seconds—thinking that today’s task was Ding Lan’s disappearance case, and Ding Lan had been riding a bicycle—then obediently opened the key rack and picked the keys to a white G63.

His father, Jiang Fuzhen, had no preference for car brands—he simply liked hard, large, sturdy vehicles.

In contrast, Jiang Yuan, fresh out of school, cared even less about brands or anything beyond vehicles—until he parked at the county bureau’s lot and found two fellow officers staring at him.

“You haven’t clocked out yet?” Jiang Yuan asked first.

The two exchanged weary smiles; the one in front replied, “It’s just getting dark—what’s there to clock out for? You tech guys have it easy, huh?”

“We get busy too.” Jiang Yuan didn’t want to let other tech officers take the blame. “I’m a forensic medic. Lately it’s been manageable—this is just another return.”

“So cases really are piling up.” The two finally felt a bit better, then glanced at Jiang Yuan’s big G behind him and asked, “Yours?”

“Family’s.” Jiang Yuan couldn’t lie about something like this.

The two sighed enviously again.

“By the way, I brought some beef. Heat it up and try it—my dad cooked it.” Jiang Yuan pulled a lunchbox from his backpack and handed it to them.

Jiang Fuzhen was unusually generous with food—he’d prepared enough boiled beef for Jiang Yuan and his colleagues alike.

Instantly, their eyes lit up.

“I’m heading up.” Jiang Yuan waved and climbed the stairs along his usual route, noticing that nearly every office on both sides was lit, though the number of people varied.

Officers worked overtime writing reports, working overtime on cases, and evading duties—each burdened by their own anxieties.

When Jiang Yuan first joined, he hated overtime and rarely had any. Now, he understood them completely.

This might be the critical moment to solve Ding Lan’s case—Wei Zhenguo was still downstairs gnawing on a biscuit near the suspect’s building; Jiang Yuan couldn’t afford to slack off.

Considering Ding Lan might still be alive, Jiang Yuan had only one option: move forward.

It was easy to imagine that these overtime officers, now or someday, felt the same—or something close.

Forensic office.

Turned on the machine, entered the password, spread out the boiled beef, laid out the white buns, poured chili sauce and pickled vegetables.

On the screen, several fingerprint images opened simultaneously.

Jiang Yuan examined them carefully, then verified them again.

Fingerprint analysis is an extremely meticulous task—especially at critical moments, accuracy must be guaranteed.

Jiang Yuan meticulously compared the fingerprints, took two quick bites of beef, then called Wei Zhenguo: “Tan Yong left only one fingerprint—on the bicycle handlebars. This… could be explained as accidental contact. But if his strength was sufficient, it could also indicate movement.”

“Enough. I’ll confront him first.” Wei Zhenguo’s voice came through the phone, heavy.

Jiang Yuan grunted. “Fingerprints alone aren’t enough for evidence.”

“I know. We’ll stake out for two days and see.”

“Shouldn’t we ask Captain Huang for backup?”

“We don’t have any evidence yet. Captain Huang won’t give support.” Wei Zhenguo was clear: “I’ve called in my Sixth Team.”

Wei Zhenguo knew that if Jiang Yuan called Huang Qiang, Huang would almost certainly send help. Just based on the previous murder case, officers like Jiang Yuan were entitled to request two waves of backup.

But so far, the Ding Lan case hadn’t truly surfaced. Even though Tan Yong seemed repulsive and highly suspicious to him, veteran detectives knew these clues were still far from the core of the case.

Calling his own team’s detectives was just enough manpower—just meant everyone would have to work harder.

Wei Zhenguo adjusted his tone and added: “I haven’t told my Sixth Team which case I’m investigating. Forensic medic Jiang, you also keep this confidential—don’t notify anyone.”

Jiang Yuan automatically replied, then asked: “Are you worried about leaks?”

“In our small county, every relationship is tangled. Tan Yong works for a state-owned enterprise—if he knows even one well-connected person… let’s just keep this quiet for now. No one gets told. That’s safest.”

This was a lesson Wei Zhenguo had learned after years as a county detective.

The social ecosystem of a small county differs drastically from cities or even provincial capitals. Because of its scale, it’s larger and more complex than towns or villages, with deeper, more hidden interpersonal ties.

Criminal cases—and even the threat of capital punishment—are enough to activate every single connection.

“Understood.” Jiang Yuan knew the gravity and nodded again. After a pause, he added softly: “If you confirm the scene, call me. I’m confident in crime scene investigation.”

“Alright, no problem.” Wei Zhenguo felt unexpectedly reassured. At that moment, his mind involuntarily pictured his wife.

He shook his head, tucked away his scorching-hot phone, and turned to Mu Zhiyang: “Any results?”

“Hmm… During the incident period, Tan Yong’s main duty was overseeing the slope construction at Ding Lan’s factory. I just checked—the slope’s area and earth volume are substantial. If… if someone wanted to bury something there, it’d be nearly impossible to find.” Mu Zhiyang sat in the backseat, draped his coat over his laptop, revealing not a single glimmer of light.

But Wei Zhenguo didn’t follow Mu Zhiyang’s line of thought. He pressed: “What else? He couldn’t have stayed on the construction site all day. Did he go home?”

“Probably. The site only provided workers with color-steel sheds.” Mu Zhiyang glanced at Wei Zhenguo strangely and whispered: “Master, what if someone’s buried in the slope?”

“Even if someone is buried, we have no evidence to dig.”

“Ah… then what do we do now?”

“Watch.” Wei Zhenguo tilted his head, staring at the light on the 12th floor, eyes half-closed as if asleep.

Mu Zhiyang felt disappointed: “Just watch? That’s… too passive.”

Wei Zhenguo snorted, too lazy to reply.

“TV reports always say major cases are handled with thunderous force…” Mu Zhiyang said.

“Do you know why major cases are handled with thunderous force?” Wei Zhenguo pulled his coat tighter, shifted his posture slightly.

Mu Zhiyang: “I don’t know.”

“Because superiors impose strict deadlines—three days, seven days…” Wei Zhenguo’s voice was low. “With such tight timelines, what other tactic can you use but thunderous force?”

“That…”

“Our biggest advantage now is time. Three years have passed—if she’s dead, she can wait. If she’s alive…” Wei Zhenguo spoke calmly: “If Tan Yong is the suspect, watching him is the only way Ding Lan can keep living.”

“Why?”

“To prevent him from killing her to silence her—and to see when he brings her food.”

Mu Zhiyang thought his master had gone mad: “It’s been three years. Even if she’s alive, he wouldn’t bring food often. He could just stock up on biscuits—they last ages.”

“He won’t stockpile much food.” Wei Zhenguo glanced at Mu Zhiyang, silently calling him “young dog,” then added: “If he’s illegally holding Ding Lan captive, is he doing it so she can survive on his biscuits?”