Chapter 47: Trial and Error

Wei Zhenguo was a very flexible man.

At least, in Mu Zhiyang’s eyes, his master was extremely flexible—he deeply understood the survival logic of the social underclass, excelled at dealing with all kinds of people, using petty thieves as informants to crack bigger cases, and occasionally arresting a few petty thieves just to meet case-resolution quotas.

But this stakeout and surveillance had truly made Mu Zhiyang question his entire life.

For three straight days, Mu Zhiyang had rested only one night; the rest of the time, he spent locked in the car, until eventually, when he drank his Powerade, he didn’t even need to look down to aim.

What made Mu Zhiyang suffer in silence was that his master, Comrade Wei Zhenguo, had spent even longer in the car, slept even less, and urinated with even greater precision.

Just as Mu Zhiyang was on his Nth thought that he couldn’t hold out any longer, the car door suddenly swung open.

“Chief Wei.” Jiang Yuan smiled and squeezed into the back seat.

“Why are you here? How did you find us?” Mu Zhiyang stared at Jiang Yuan, dazed.

In the Criminal Investigation Unit, officers like him were roughly the donkey-tier beasts—only fit for grinding away in silence.

More senior detectives were roughly the ox-tier beasts—grinding away, but occasionally receiving favors; ordinary technicians were mostly the donkey-tier beasts—neither capable nor willing, yet forced to grind anyway.

Yet Jiang Yuan was different—he had handled homicide cases and repeatedly played a pivotal role in solving cold cases; at the very least, he was a horse—a beast capable of hard labor, yet too valuable to be overworked.

How had such a Jiang Yuan ended up at a stakeout site?

Jiang Yuan gestured with his chin: “I asked Chief Wei. Heard you were short-handed, so I came to lend a hand.”

“This…” Mu Zhiyang suddenly felt embarrassed, as if his own donkey-like incompetence had exhausted a horse.

“I’ve got nothing else on my plate.” Jiang Yuan shifted slightly, sniffed the air, and said: “This car’s interior is terrible.”

“Lower the right window a bit,” Wei Zhenguo offered a pitiful solution.

“No big deal, I’ll get used to it soon.” Jiang Yuan had lived in the countryside too—he frowned slightly, then let the smell go.

With Jiang Yuan helping out, Mu Zhiyang and Wei Zhenguo both dozed off in the car; by evening, the three followed Tan Yong home after work, then slipped away under cover of night, handing the stakeout over to two other detectives from Team Six.

The next day was another day of car surveillance.

Wei Zhenguo had previously been indifferent, but now felt slightly guilty toward Jiang Yuan, explaining: “This is just the brute-force method—time-consuming, soul-crushing. If you’re tired, go sleep at a hotel tonight…”

“No problem. I’m not at my limit yet.” Jiang Yuan was tired too, but compared to Wei Zhenguo and Mu Zhiyang, who had been watching for days, he was still relatively fresh. Besides, his responsibility was light—he was just a helper.

Still, Wei Zhenguo couldn’t help but feel moved. He’d spent his whole life as a beast of burden, and now he wanted to train his apprentice—but never expected Jiang Yuan to show such initiative.

The vibration of his phone woke Wei Zhenguo.

The vibration of Wei Zhenguo’s phone woke him.

“Chief Huang?” Wei Zhenguo picked up the phone.

“Yeah, is Jiang Yuan with you?” Huang Qiang didn’t even say hello, just cut straight to the point.

“Yes, he’s here with me.” Wei Zhenguo answered quickly.

“Is he safe?”

“Safe. We’re on a stakeout.”

“Are you chasing the Ding Lan disappearance case?” Huang Qiang continued.

“Yes.” Wei Zhenguo didn’t even bother guessing how Huang Qiang had found out. He’d taken confidentiality seriously, but keeping it secret from the head of the Criminal Investigation Unit was simply too hard.

Wei Zhenguo weighed his words carefully and said, “We’re planning to surveil the suspect for a while to see if we can gather solid evidence…”

Wei Zhenguo chose his words carefully: “We’re currently planning to observe the suspect for a while, to see if we can gather solid evidence…”

Huang Qiang sighed at the word “observe,” then interrupted: “How much longer?”

“You’re going to surveil them for another week? Are you going to make Jiang Yuan surveil them for another week?” Huang Qiang’s temper flared. “In one week, how many fingerprints could Jiang Yuan have processed? You’re wasting police resources!”

“Are you going to make Jiang Yuan sit with you for another week?” Huang Qiang’s temper flared: “In a week, Jiang Yuan could process dozens of fingerprints. You’re wasting police resources!”

Detectives sometimes staked out cases for a single night, sometimes for ten days or even weeks, and sometimes for longer without results. Huang Qiang usually didn’t micromanage ordinary officers’ time.

But wasting Jiang Yuan’s time was something Huang Qiang simply could not tolerate.

Even if Jiang Yuan was just stuck in an office, not solving major cases daily, just handling minor serial cases would still meaningfully boost both quantity and quality of solved cases.

Outsiders thought detectives solved cases easily, but in reality, a team of ten-odd detectives might solve only about a hundred cases a year—that was full capacity. Ten cases per person, including serials and cases handed to them.

In comparison, Jiang Yuan’s cases were far higher in quality, backed by solid evidence like fingerprints, making investigations easier and more solid.

To Huang Qiang, Jiang Yuan sitting with Wei Zhenguo on a missing persons stakeout was like a fine racehorse being forced to plow fields with an old ox.

Wei Zhenguo felt wronged, murmuring: “I told Jiang Yuan to go back, but he didn’t want to.”

“Jiang Yuan’s young. It’s natural he’s curious about police work. Occasionally letting him experience different duties helps his growth—but that’s not an excuse to drag him on a week-long stakeout.” Huang Qiang suppressed his anger, then changed tone: “Alright, can you find a way to wrap this up quickly?”

Huang Qiang had heard plenty of stories about how today’s youth were independent and proud—quitting on a whim, purifying the workplace. On the other hand, Wei Zhenguo was leading this team to the provincial capital to solve a case; he couldn’t just hold them back.

Today’s youth were independent and proud—stories of them quitting on a whim or “cleaning up” workplaces were common. On the other hand, Wei Zhenguo had brought his team to the provincial capital to solve cases; Huang Qiang couldn’t just hold him back.

So Huang Qiang’s first priority was still getting Wei Zhenguo to close the case cleanly.

A thought flickered through Wei Zhenguo’s mind, and he said, “Team Leader Huang, this suspect Tan Yong works for a construction company under Luqiao Group. If you can arrange for him to go on a business trip—say, for about half a month—and have someone else temporarily take over his duties, I think the suspect might slip up.”

A quick thought flashed through his mind, and he said: “Chief Huang, suspect Tan Yong works for a construction company under Luqiao Group. If you could arrange for him to go on a business trip—say, for half a month—and have the company assign someone to cover his duties, the suspect might slip up.”

This had long been Wei Zhenguo’s backup plan—he just lacked the authority to move Luqiao Group.

Huang Qiang had no authority over Luqiao Group either. Provincial companies wouldn’t obey an officer from a county bureau.

But simply for official needs, asking for a favor to make such an adjustment—Huang Qiang still had ways.

Police power, when used skillfully, had immense depth and reach.

It was easy to influence companies like construction firms.

“I understand. Try to get results within a few days. Also, protect Jiang Yuan—especially during the arrest. Notify me in advance, and I’ll send more people to assist.” Huang Qiang hung up without giving Wei Zhenguo room to negotiate.

He had to obey Huang Qiang, but he didn’t really care much about Huang Qiang’s attitude. He was already a veteran detective, at his age, with his experience and education—he was like a non-commissioned officer in the military, rising from first to second to third class, but that was all there was to it. He’d never make senior NCO rank, let alone become an officer.

He had to obey Huang Qiang, but he didn’t really care about Huang’s attitude. He was a veteran detective—his age, seniority, and education were like a soldier who’d climbed from first to third term—fine, but that was it. He’d never make fourth term, let alone become an officer.

“Alright, observe for another day or two—we should have results.” Wei Zhenguo put away his phone and exhaled.

“Right. If Tan Yong is guilty, the most likely places he’d set up his detention site are near his home or workplace. If we send him on a trip and assign someone to cover his duties for a few days, we should see something. ” Wei Zhenguo smiled. “Aren’t you the one who wanted a thunderous strike? Well, here it comes.”

“No. If Tan Yong’s guilty, his most likely detention spot is near his home or workplace. If we get him on a business trip and have someone cover his job for a few days, we’ll see something.” Wei Zhenguo smiled: “Aren’t you craving a thunderous strike? Here it comes.”

“This… this isn’t what I meant by ‘thunderous strike.’” Mu Zhiyang muttered, shaking his head: “So all our days of stakeout were wasted?”

“You think this is farming? Plant a seed, get a harvest? This is trial-and-error cost.”

Mu Zhiyang’s eyelids felt three years older: “So… all these days were just trial and error?”

Wei Zhenguo looked perfectly calm: “We are the trial-and-error cost.”

[65] His emphasis was on “cost.”