Chapter 32: The So-Called Justice Messenger

Outside the conference room, the long Corridor was empty, and the marble floor, bright enough to be a mirror, reflected a grim white light.

Qin Yongchang burst into the adjacent empty lounge, and with a "Clack!" the door slammed shut.

He leaned his back against the cold door panel, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Say it again? Don't scare me," his voice was hoarse beyond recognition.

On the other end of the phone was the sub‑bureau director Lao Liang, his subordinate of twenty years who had always kept a steady face even as mountains collapsed.

But at this moment, Lao Liang's voice was filled with uncontainable tremor and helplessness.

"Director… it's true."

"Xiao Yu and a few friends, in the southern city's Happy Community, cornered a girl named Ling Xinyu."

"They slipped… and killed her."

"Then they drove through the night and threw the corpse into the Shunyang River in the eastern suburbs."

Each word Lao Liang uttered felt like an invisible hammer pounding Qin Yongchang's chest.

He staggered, slammed into the wall, and his mobile phone nearly flew from his hand.

The world spun, and only a buzzing remained in his ears.

Murder.

Body disposal.

Those two words exploded wildly in his mind, shattering all the composure, calm, and authority he had just built in the meeting.

His son, Qin Yongchang, had murdered!

His vision flickered black, and he nearly collapsed on the spot.

After the peak of anger came an even stronger fear.

It was a fear that could freeze a person's very soul.

What he thought of was not the innocent dead girl, not his son's monstrous crime, not even his own police creed and duty.

Only one thought occupied his mind.

If this matter were exposed, the military order he had just pledged before Wei Gong, the Ninth Division support he secured for Jiang Hai City, his seemingly bright political future…

Everything would become a colossal joke!

His political enemies, the wolves who had long despised him, would pounce and tear him and the Qin family behind him to the bone.

His life would be utterly finished!

No!

Absolutely not!

Qin Yongguan's usually imposing square face twisted with fear and madness, the blue veins in his temples pulsing.

He braced against the wall, gulping breath, his eyes streaked with blood.

Reason and emotion fought wildly in his mind.

On one side stood law, justice, the police uniform he had worn all his life.

On the other side lay family, career, the path of power he had paved with half his life's effort.

The internal battle lasted less than ten seconds.

Qin Yongchang lifted his head; the struggle and pain in his eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling, resolute cold that made the heart race.

Every word he spoke into the phone came as if squeezed through his teeth, tinged with blood.

"Suppress it."

"At any cost."

On the other end, Lao Liang let out a long sigh; his greatest fear was the director making a mistake.

"Director, rest assured," Lao Liang's voice immediately regained some composure, "I've already made the arrangements."

"From the archives I selected the most suitable candidate: Liu San, a social drifter with theft and robbery records, three arrests, a criminal record. His family is destitute, his mother bedridden, and he himself has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, only a few years left."

"My men just 'talked' to him. We prepared a sum sufficient for his mother's lifelong sustenance; he accepted it all. He took the whole affair onto himself, claiming the perpetrator was greedy and driven by lust, a mishap that killed the victim, having no connection to Qin Shao and the others."

A perfect 'scapegoat.'

A worthless, doomed social scum, whose death would go unnoticed.

Using his short‑lived life to secure the entire Qin family's stability.

Worth it.

Too worthwhile.

Qin Yongchang's tense body gradually relaxed.

He calmly pressed, his voice now devoid of emotion: "What about the victim's family?"

"We've also identified them," Lao Liang replied immediately, "Ling Xinyu, her parents came from the countryside to work in Jiang Hai, renting in Happy Community. They are at the bottom of society, with no background. The truth can't be uncovered, nor any power to expose the matter."

"Okay."

Qin Yongchang's heart, which had been hanging in midair, finally settled back into his gut.

Relief surged to his heart like a tide.

Fortunately, the dead was just an insignificant small‑time person.

"I'm heading back to Jiang Hai right now," Qin Yongchang's tone regained its former authority, "Lao Liang, before I return, keep a close eye on that bastard! Neither he nor the second‑generation scums you captured may leave the police station!"

"Also, this matter must never be told to Zhi Xia! Absolutely must not let her know!"

"Understood!" Lao Liang replied resolutely.

He hung up, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.

That normally imposing, unruffled face now appeared weary and grim.

Meanwhile.

Inside the temporary detention room of a certain Jiang Hai City branch.

The atmosphere here was the complete opposite of the oppressive mood over at Qin Yongchang's side.

Here, mist swirled about, and a few trendy-dressed rich second-generation heirs gathered. They showed no panic about having killed someone; instead, they were buzzing like they'd just seen an exciting movie, chatting animatedly.

"Holy shit, that scared the hell out of me! I thought we were done for!"

"What's there to fear? We've got Yu Ge!"

"Exactly! What in Jiang Hai City could Uncle Qin not handle?"

Qin Yu sat with his legs crossed, arrogantly shaking his foot; the scratch Ling Xinyu had left on his face didn't embarrass him—it added a touch of insolent swagger.

Listening to the flattery around him, he hummed a tune smugly—there was no hint of having just killed someone.

At that moment, the detention room door opened.

A middle-aged man in a police uniform walked in, smiling broadly—he was Lao Liang's lackey.

"Gentlemen, you gave us a fright." He bowed and scraped, lowering himself utterly.

Qin Yu felt a secret delight; to save face, he glanced at the man sideways and asked lazily, "Is everything taken care of?"

"Don't worry, Young Master Qin." The lackey rubbed his hands, smiling until his cheeks creased: "The fall guy has been arranged; he'll confess to everything. In a bit, you and the other young masters will give statements as eyewitnesses, sign, and go home."

"Whoa!!!"

"Damn impressive, Yu Ge!"

"I told you! It's no big deal!"

The few rich heirs instantly burst into excited cheers, as if they'd already gained freedom.

Qin Yu rose triumphantly, jerked his chin at the lackey, and said, "What are we waiting for? Hurry up and take us out—I need to catch some sleep."

He could hardly wait to go to the club and throw a party to properly celebrate this 'narrow escape' thrill.

However, the lackey didn't move.

His smile didn't change, but it now carried a strange sympathy.

"Young Master Qin, this...... probably won't work."

"The Chief has issued a death order—you can't go anywhere."

Qin Yu's smile froze instantly.

The lackey continued:

"He's flying back from the provincial capital on a private jet."

"He said he......"

"to personally come pick you up and take you home."

Qin Yu's arrogance vanished without a trace, replaced by a fear that rose from the depths of his soul.

He realized it.

What he was about to face was the extent of his father's thunderous wrath.