“We waited at the agreed location.”
In the interrogation room, Huang Song’s breathing grew heavier and heavier, his hair a dishevelled mess from running his hands through it. He composed himself for a moment, then continued: “It was drizzling that night. It was nearly midnight by the time Guan Ling showed up. Brother Lai had already had a bit to drink, and the long wait had put him in a foul mood, so the moment he laid eyes on Guan Ling, he gave her nothing but cold looks.”
“Get to the point.” Zhao Ping rapped the table. “What exactly was it that made Lai San draw his gun and kill her?”
Huang Song said, “Guan Ling had been on her guard against Brother Lai the whole time — she was afraid of retaliation, so she hadn’t brought what he wanted that night at all. Her plan was to hand it over only once she was safely back home. The moment Brother Lai heard that, he flew into a rage and told her not to mistake his generosity for weakness. But Guan Ling wasn’t afraid of him anymore, and she threatened him — said if he kept pushing, she’d hand the material straight over to Boss He.”
“The two of them started arguing, and somehow, out of nowhere, Jiang Cheng’s name came up — Brother Lai already despised Jiang Cheng, said he’d make him pay sooner or later, make him kneel and beg for his life… Guan Ling lost her temper and threw something from Brother Lai’s past back in his face…”
“What from his past?”
Huang Song’s expression shifted into something uncomfortable. He hemmed and hawed for a long moment before answering quietly: “About a year ago, on Funing Street in Guoshan, Brother Lai got his left hand broken by a group of men. He’s deeply sensitive about anyone bringing it up. Boss He had offered to avenge him, but Brother Lai refused — said nothing had happened that day… The truth is, a lot of people know about it.”
“And then?”
“It was something even Boss He wasn’t allowed to mention — and Guan Ling said it. Brother Lai snapped in a fury and pulled out his gun… I — I hadn’t even registered what was happening…”
With almost no warning at all — a deafening crack. A gunshot that split the world open.
Blood sprayed, brutal and vivid.
Huang Song watched Guan Ling drop to the ground.
The dull thud of her falling seemed so small against the vast, rain-soaked night — light as a fallen petal, one that simply couldn’t withstand the storm and drifted, at last, to the earth.
Huang Song pressed his hands over his face in anguish. “That’s how it happened.”
Zhao Ping pressed further: “Where were you at the time? What were you doing?”
Huang Song: “I was in the car. I — I was in shock. I had no idea what to do.”
Zhao Ping: “And Lai San?”
“After Brother Lai shot Guan Ling, he stood there for a long time without reacting. I figured he’d realised he’d pushed things too far. It must have been five or six minutes before he came back to the car. He told me to go get money — said he wanted to pack up and flee to another city immediately…”
“But the car was parked right on the roadside. I was worried someone else might pass by and complicate things further, so I told him not to rush — that we should at least hide the body first…”
Once the two of them had calmed down, that was what led to the body being disposed of in the Tonghe River afterward.
Zhao Ping stopped recording the statement and gave a cold laugh. “Clever of you, wasn’t it? Didn’t expect the body to turn up this fast, did you?”
Huang Song slowly lowered his head, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.
---
In the conference room, Zhao Ping presented a preliminary case briefing based on the latest findings.
Zhao Ping said, “It was precisely because Huang Song helped him that night that Lai Zhengtian — after committing the murder and disposing of the body — genuinely believed he could get away with it. He even abandoned his plan to flee.”
Someone’s expression brightened with satisfaction: “That bastard sat in the interrogation room acting like a dead pig that doesn’t fear boiling water, as if he thought we’d never gather enough evidence to bring him in. Well, now we have everything we need. He’s got no choice but to confess.”
Once Zhao Ping finished, the heavy atmosphere in the conference room slowly began to lift. Nearly everyone present let out a breath of relief.
Yet Zhou Jin still hadn’t heard the answer she was looking for. She pressed on: “Did Huang Song give any account of the service pistol?”
“He doesn’t know where it came from.” Zhao Ping shook his head. “That depends on whether Lai Zhengtian, after he confesses and is convicted, is willing to cooperate with us in exchange for a reduced sentence.”
That was what he said, but Zhao Ping’s expression held little optimism.
Lai Zhengtian was facing intentional homicide, along with charges of organising prostitution, picking quarrels and provoking trouble, and several other offences — and with the evidence airtight, he understood the situation perfectly. He knew that even if he revealed the source of the service pistol, there was no guarantee it would earn him any meaningful benefit.
Once he talked to the police, he might even invite retaliation from the other side.
If Zhao Ping could see all of this, how could Zhou Jin not know it too?
Tan Shiming noticed her eyes had gone red. He gave a faint sigh, then turned his gaze toward Jiang Hansheng, who was sitting quietly and composedly to one side.
“Professor Jiang, do you have anything further to add?”
Hearing Tan Shiming call his name, Jiang Hansheng drew his gaze back from where it had rested on Zhou Jin.
He considered for a moment, then said: “There’s still one piece of physical evidence missing.”
“What is it?”
“Guan Ling was holding some kind of leverage over Lai Zhengtian. Whatever it was, its whereabouts are still unknown.”
Zhao Ping offered a supplementary note on that point: “I asked Huang Song about it — he doesn’t know anything either. But the evidence we have in hand at this point is sufficient to close the case.”
Zhou Jin said: “I’ll apply for a search warrant during the day and go through Guan Ling’s residence again, see if anything new turns up.”
“I’ll go with you.” Zhao Ping raised his hand in Zhou Jin’s direction. “Huang Song disclosed that he retrieved Guan Ling’s suitcase from the driver. He still has it — never dealt with it.”
“Good.”
Tan Shiming laid out the final investigative arrangements, and just before the meeting adjourned, he added one more thing: “By the way — in two days, you’ll be meeting an old acquaintance. I want everyone sharp. Don’t embarrass me.”
“Who is it?”
“Your former unit chief, Yao Weihai.”
Yu Dan’s eyes lit up at that: “Chief Yao is coming?”
“It’s Deputy Director Yao now.” Tan Shiming smiled. “Back in the day, he led the ‘8·17’ task force. This time he’s coming partly to offer guidance on our investigation going forward. The Lai San thread is a difficult one to pull, but if no one follows it, it’ll stay a cold case forever.”
Everyone present nodded together, then gradually filed out of the conference room.
The kind of idle talk that followed such meetings — Jiang Hansheng wasn’t listening to any of it. His mind was still fixed on the Guan Ling murder.