In the reception room at the City Bureau.
Around twenty young punks were crammed into the space, while the desk officers weaved through them with great difficulty, struggling to take statements.
“Name, ID number… Hold on, one at a time… You little punk, you think beating someone up makes you right? …ID number—say it again!”
“Officer, they started it! It wasn’t our fault! …Hey, damn it, who the hell stepped on my foot—”
Amid the chaos filling the room, Han Wei picked up an iron rod from the table and tossed it lightly a couple of times. He turned to Zhou Hui and said, “It’s hollow. Might not even kill a mole. They’re just putting on a show here!”
The Little Dumbass—the one who had been hauled in still decked out in his gold chains—couldn’t stand for that. He craned his neck and yelled, “Hey, officer bro, can you guys be reasonable? I never said I was gonna do anything to that woman, right? And you make us squat down with our hands on our heads! Hands on heads and squat! Grandpa here has never been ordered around like this in his life!”
His outburst ignited the emotions of the others, pushing them to a boiling point in an instant. They latched onto his words and started getting even more uppity.
“How do you cops even do your jobs? I didn’t break any laws! When are you letting us out?”
“Let us go! This is bullshit—my damn underwear is soaked, thanks to you rotten cops and this pack of mangy bastards.”
“Fuck your mom! Who the hell are you cursing at?”
“I’m cursing you! You lot unhappy about it? Come on then, if you’ve got the guts—do it again! Hit Grandpa on the head! Come on! If you don’t, you’re all spineless little grandsons! Officer bro, bear witness! Today he was gonna…”
It took only a couple of exchanges before the two sides were hurling insults at each other right there in the police station. The group of officers felt like their heads were about to explode from all the yammering. Zhou Hui slammed the table with a sharp shout: “Shut your mouths!”
She dragged the ringleader—the Little Dumbass—over and jabbed a finger at the slogan on the wall that read “Fighting Costs High, Strike with Caution.” “Who the hell are you calling ‘brother’? Read what’s written up there! This is the City Public Security Bureau! Not some place for you to throw tantrums and act like thugs! Got it?”
Little Dumbass nodded hesitantly. “Got… got it…”
Han Wei swallowed hard. How long had it been since he’d seen Zhou Hui this furious? She was like a lit firecracker today.
The reception room finally quieted down. Zhou Hui tugged at her collar, shoved Little Dumbass into a chair, and picked up a statement form. Looming over him, she demanded, “Now, can we talk properly?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“What’s your name?”
“Huang… Huang San.”
Zhou Hui’s brow furrowed. She tossed the pen down. “Is that your real name?”
“Yeah, yeah, officer. Heaven and earth as my witness, I’ve been called that since the day I was born. Don’t believe me? Go check!”
Pfft—
A few of the young officers couldn’t help snickering off to the side.
Zhou Hui rubbed her forehead and didn’t waste more time on the name. She pressed on. “Why did you go make trouble at the club?”
“I didn’t make trouble. I really didn’t.” Huang San waved his cuffed hands frantically. “My little brother got done in by that woman and thrown in the Local Police Station. That dog of a Station Chief Qian… no, the station chief at the Local Police Station—he’s skimmed who knows how much grease, colluding with her in secret to screw over my brother! So don’t I gotta make her pay?”
Zhou Hui: “…”
“Officer, officer, you get it, right?” He probed with a question, then spread his hands wide and bellowed the explanation again. “Last time, my bro got her dragged to the Local Police Station! Today I just wanted her to come out and apologize! What’s wrong with that? Officer! You can’t just protect the rich folks…”
“…” Zhou Hui took a deep breath and cut him off helplessly. “I get it. You’re saying last time your brother caused a scene at the club and got nabbed by the Local Police Station. Today you brought people to make trouble again.”
Huang San: “…………”
Once they left the reception room, Zhou Hui flung the statement form into Han Wei’s arms.
“Where the hell did this weirdo come from? Total waste of police resources. Wrap up the paperwork quick and kick him out. Get in touch with Station Chief Qian too—send him a ‘luxury gift package’ to the Detention Center. Let that punk stew in there a few extra days before he gets out.”
Han Wei was left with a face full of dark lines. What the hell kind of day was this!
“Come on, let’s check the Preferential Holding Room and see if Yu Bai’s sobered up.” Zhou Hui said as they walked. “Once she’s awake, question her fast. She knows the drill inside out—holding her for 24 or 48 hours won’t faze her. Better strike quick.”
~~~
Half an hour later, in an interrogation room at the City Public Security Bureau.
Han Wei sat beside Zhou Hui, sensing that the atmosphere was rather awkward.
At that moment, Yu Bai was gazing at Zhou Hui with flirtatious eyes, her status as a prisoner doing nothing to hinder her poise. With a charming smile, she answered the previous question:
“Between three-thirty and four-thirty last night—doesn’t Officer Zhou know where I was?”
“?”
“Officer Zhou, that’s not very sporting of you.” Yu Bai shot her a deliberately petulant glance and said with a mix of truth and fiction, “This morning in my bedroom, you weren’t saying that. You have the most authority on my alibi!”
When Yu Bai uttered those words from the chair in the interrogation room, the group of officers all turned to Zhou Hui in surprise. Behind the one-way glass, the two veteran officers and old-timers, Xu Zhixin and Zhang Yunan, were so shocked their eyeballs nearly popped out.
Zhou Hui’s temples throbbed. She instantly recoiled from Yu Bai as if from a venomous snake and gnashed her teeth. “Yu Bai—you’re twisting the facts—”
Deliberate. She was absolutely deliberate!
Sun Ye, standing behind Zhang Yunan, nudged the nearest person, Zhao Min, and whispered with a gossiping face, “Xiao Zhao, the flower of the force, break down this footwork for me? Aren’t you all from the Narcotics Squad supposed to be experts? You know psychology inside out. What’s going on with our Captain Zhou?”
He completely failed to notice that Zhao Min’s vat of aged vinegar had already overturned, her face as dark as moss that hadn’t seen sunlight in millennia. She squeezed words through clenched teeth. “Analyze my ass. Go stand over there. I’m not an informant.”
“…” Sun Ye was baffled and wisely stepped back three paces, muttering to himself, “Such a temper? Did Deputy Han piss her off again?”
Things weren’t going much better inside the interrogation room. Yu Bai’s disruption had turned the simple questioning into an impossibility.
Zhou Hui stood with arms crossed, locked in a standoff with Yu Bai across from her. Han Wei glanced from one to the other, trying to glean some clues from their micro-expressions.
But Zhou Hui’s face was taut as an old monk deep in meditation, and Yu Bai was even worse— inexplicably dragged back to the station, handcuffed, sobered up with all that rigmarole, leaving only irritation behind.
Han Wei’s eyes ached from staring, but he saw nothing. He let out a silent “heh heh,” while a thousand wild horses thundered through his mind.
Zhang Yunan wore a constipated expression in the observation room. He grabbed the intercom and bellowed toward the one-way glass. “Zhou Hui, what the hell are you doing? Are we interrogating or not?”
Then he spun around, yanking up Sun Ye who had been trying to make himself invisible. “Where’s Tong Jinhua? Why aren’t you grabbing her? Why focus only on Yu Bai?”
His rage nearly blew the roof off, but fortunately the interrogation room was soundproofed. Han Wei only heard the first bellow.
Sun Ye wanted to cry. “Chief Zhang, Chief Zhang… We… we already sent people early. She bolted!”
What had he done to deserve this today?
Zhang Yunan couldn’t rein in his fury for the moment. He trembled for half a minute, finally getting his skyrocketing blood pressure and Parkinsonian fingers under control.
Yu Bai had been personally invited into the bureau by Captain Zhou’s father. With this mess, there was no way to explain it to the old boss.
In the interrogation room, Zhou Hui finally spoke again.
“Yu Bai, I’ll ask once more: where were you between three-thirty and four-thirty a.m.?”
Yu Bai endured it good-naturedly for half a minute before laughing in anger. “Where was I? Zhou Hui, what are you implying? You think I killed Jiang Jiwen? Why would I? What’s my motive?”
“That you need to answer for yourself!”
Zhou Hui rifled through the documents on the table with a clatter, then pulled out a photo and slapped it in front of Yu Bai.
“Not unfamiliar, is it?”
Yu Bai frowned and looked down. The photo showed her and David, with the back door of the Alice Club in the background.
“Coincidentally, that same night, the Narcotics Squad busted Jiang Jiwen right there. We’ve checked—this club is under your company’s umbrella. Care to explain?”
Yu Bai blinked, then flashed an impeccable smile. “What does that prove? It’s not illegal to go back to my own club!”
“Going back to your own club isn’t illegal, but assault is, and you saw exactly what state Jiang Jiwen was in when he went to the hospital.” Zhou Hui’s sword-like brows knitted tight as she pressed without mercy. “What did you have on him?”
Otherwise, why had Jiang Jiwen been so cooperative during his interrogation, spilling a murder case from two years ago with barely any prodding?
Zhou Hui had been a cop for years and never seen a suspect so eager to cooperate with the police—especially not a repeat offender like Jiang Jiwen, that slippery old hand.
The only explanation was that someone had him by the short hairs, forcing him to talk.
A smile tugged at Yu Bai’s lips. “Figure it out yourselves!”
The provocation was obvious. The subtext Zhou Hui heard in those words was “Good luck if you can.”
After several rounds, questions bombarded one after another. Any normal person would have cracked.
But Yu Bai was clearly no ordinary person. She refused to cooperate, batting back every question intact, none slipping through.
Zhou Hui was just about to erupt in anger when the door to the interrogation room swung open. Yang Pingfan walked in and handed her a file.
Zhou Hui frowned as she flipped through it. Amid her seething fury, she forced herself to circle back and calm down. She thrust the document right under the woman’s nose. “Fine, let me rephrase the question. Why did you wire three hundred thousand to Tong Jinhua? What did you hire her to do for you?”
Yu Bai stared at the overseas bank account details at the bottom of the page, her own signature glaring back at her. There was no point hiding it now. She shifted into a more comfortable position, arched an eyebrow, and smiled. “It wasn’t anything major. I just wanted her to tell me Yan Mingchang’s whereabouts. That’s it.”
“So you know where Yan Mingchang is now?”
Yu Bai shrugged with deep regret. “No clue. Turns out she wasn’t nearly as important to him as I’d thought. A roll in the sheets, and he could just pretend it never happened, right, Officer Zhou?”
Zhou Hui let out a cold laugh, ignoring the bait. “You shelled out three hundred grand without getting a scrap of info? What a bargain!”
Yu Bai remained utterly unfazed. “Got a problem with that? I’ve got money to burn.”
The cluster of officers: “…”
Sigh. The world of the filthy rich really was something else.
Zhou Hui and Han Wei were worn down to the bone, their last shred of patience fraying, when Yu Bai finally gave in. She spoke the first useful words she’d uttered since arriving: “I didn’t kill Jiang Jiwen. But I do know who the real murderer is!”
!!
In the midst of the officers’ eager stares, she spoke softly and slowly.
“Between three-thirty and four-thirty a.m., you’re right—I didn’t go to the hospital. I didn’t have time. That’s when I was listening to a story. But before I share that one, I need to tell you another. A brutal one. A true one.
“Where does it begin? Two years ago, when Shao Yuan was killed? No, even earlier. Nine years back, that summer day when Shao Yuan was dispatched by the Narcotics Control team for an undercover op.”
Yu Bai let out a sigh, as if it drained the last warmth from her body. She glanced up at the blank wall where a window might have been and continued in a heavy voice.
“It was a rainy day, just like today. Pouring rain. Shao Yuan swore his oath under the police flag…”
~~~
“I swear: I volunteer to become a People’s Police Officer of the People’s Republic of China. I pledge loyalty to the Chinese Communist Party, to the people, to the law; to obey commands; to strictly uphold discipline and safeguard secrets…”
The young narcotics officer stood ramrod straight in his crisp uniform beneath the police flag, renewing his entry oath. His clear voice rang through the spacious conference room.
“A Yuan, you’ve spent two years as a special informant in the neighboring province. We old leaders have watched your skills firsthand. This mission’s a tough one—we need an experienced fresh face to slip inside. Looks like you’ll be going deep undercover again.”
A flush of excitement colored the young man’s face. He brushed it off with a grin. “Heh, come on, boss—you’re making it sound like the end of the world. Not my first rodeo. Give me the briefing!”
The leader clapped him on the shoulder. “Come back from this one in one piece, and we’ll push for a first-class merit medal from the higher-ups at the very least…”
~~~
“That was the last oath of his life. His last deep dive. For the next seven years, he stayed under—never resurfaced.”
A profound silence blanketed the interrogation room and the observation area beyond. Even their breaths were hushed.
Five full minutes passed before Yu Bai spoke again, her voice dropping even lower.
“Seven years of fighting for his life. Seven years with death breathing down his neck. Shao Yuan never lived to see that first-class merit. Or the honors. Or the bright future they dangled before him. He never even got to lay eyes on his little girl one last time—she wasn’t even four. His mutilated corpse washed up on a riverbank downstream from Pingling City. Hands and feet hacked off. Eyes gouged out. Face obliterated. If not for DNA from his teeth, the police wouldn’t have even known whose body it was.
“But that wasn’t the end. The traffickers came for his family too—all slaughtered in the exact same way.
“Then the case vanished into thin air. Not a trace of the killers. No justice. They roamed free. The whole thing was tied to major operations and classified intel, so even the announcement of his death in the line of duty was buried.
“Until this April. Zhang Lin. Wu Guojiang. Chen Pinzhang. Liang Jiaming. Jiang Jiwen. One after another, butchered. The murderer the police could never track down finally took vengeance from the shadows—for him.”
Yu Bai got it all out in a single breath, but the tension in her chest refused to release. Her eyes brimmed with tangled, unrelenting emotions—like a fog that would never lift from a shadowed mountain valley.
A storm of conflicting feelings flickered in Zhou Hui’s gaze. She forced the words out with effort. “What… exactly are you getting at?”
Yu Bai’s gaze swept over Zhou Hui and Han Wei, and also across the unseen crowd of officers behind the one-way glass. Then, in a deep voice, she said, “Is that killer truly guilty?””
Everyone’s hearts trembled.
“And we, who believe ourselves to wield the sword of justice—capable of cleaving evil and upholding righteousness—but can the justice in our hearts truly be realized? Is it the justice Shao Yuan wanted?”
What, precisely, had been on Shao Yuan’s mind in the final moments of his life?
Zhou Hui suddenly found herself speechless.
She had once unwaveringly believed that justice was absolute light, faith immaculate purity. Those who sought to blur the black-and-white world, even to invert it entirely, were indulging in wild fantasies—the acts of madmen.
But she had never truly experienced it: the day one stood on the boundary between light and shadow, life hanging by a thread; when every ounce of blood and bone was exhausted in utter despair. From the remnants of consciousness, what slowly crawled forth? Was it profound enlightenment after all glories had faded, or endless hatred rampaging freely?
“Teacher.” Han Wei suddenly spoke from across the table. “I remember, in the final criminology lecture that year, you told a story about a murderer and a revenger. At the end, I asked you a question.”
Yu Bai’s expression froze.
“I asked you: Whose justice does the justice of the law protect? Whom does it persecute? Do you remember your answer?”
Han Wei’s eyes fixed on Yu Bai. “Your reply back then was, ‘If everyone can arbitrarily measure out justice, then the justice you take such pride in will ultimately become a mere phantom.'”
