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The factory where Old Wang worked was located in the suburbs, a rather remote area. In a place like Dongxing City, where every inch of land was precious, such a large workshop could never be situated in the city itself. A police officer who was leading us informed us that, according to their investigation, Old Wang had been working at this mobile phone manufacturing plant for over twenty years.
Twenty years ago, the phones Old Wang assembled were still Nokias, and back then, not many people owned mobile phones. But two decades later, Nokia had almost vanished from the market, replaced by various smartphones. Yet, the assembly procedures remained unchanged, following the same methods as before.
Old Wang had bought a house in Old Town long ago, something everyone envied. Twenty years later, that area had become part of the city but had lost its former vibrancy. It was rumored that their district would soon be demolished for redevelopment, promising a substantial compensation payout. However, after twenty years, the origin of that rumor had long been forgotten.
The people born in Dongxing City seemed disconnected from its later prosperity. Just like Old Wang, who struggled to find meaning in his life and worked with a distracted mind. Fortunately for him, he had been employed here for over twenty years; although he had never been promoted to workshop supervisor, the factory manager treated the original batch of employees well.
Old Wang finished work at five o'clock and rode his bicycle home.
When we arrived at the factory, it was still operational. The massive building stood in the center of the complex; from outside, no sounds from within could be heard. In this regard, the factory's noise reduction measures seemed quite effective.
Liu asked us to wait at the entrance for a while; he had already contacted the factory manager from the car and said he would come out to greet us shortly. In these matters, Team Leader Li's subordinates were thorough and attentive, unlike us who relied on guesswork and reasoning to solve cases and rarely managed such detailed investigations. Such inquiries were indeed time-consuming and labor-intensive.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before a portly man in his fifties emerged from the factory. He was bald and glinted under the sun. Upon seeing us, he quickly approached and spoke in a thick Dongxing City dialect: "Ah, who are you folks?"
Liu shook hands with the manager and said, "I’m Officer Liu; I just called you. These are..."
After a brief introduction, we learned that this manager's surname was Liao. The factory was a family business; Director Liao inherited it from his father and transformed it into a mobile phone manufacturing plant, seizing an opportunity that led to millions in assets today. When we mentioned Old Wang, Director Liao expressed his sentiments.
Director Liao recalled that when he transitioned to mobile phone manufacturing, Old Wang was among the first batch of workers hired. The mobile phone market twenty years ago was nowhere near as booming as it is now; many people even felt they didn't need a mobile phone at all. However, Director Liao was ahead of his time; within just five years, everyone in the city owned their own mobile phone.
Ten years later, nearly everyone had a phone in hand. Just like more than twenty years ago in Dongxing City, the mobile phone industry soared like a rocket. At that time, Director Liao distributed bonuses to the first batch of workers, allowing them to buy homes.
However, what followed was quite different. With that money, some ventured into business while others made investments; even those who lacked knowledge became workshop supervisors. Yet Old Wang remained on the assembly line.
"Old Wang is not good with words, a bit introverted. He's quite honest and decent. He was introduced to someone and they dated for several years, which was nice, but who would have known that five years ago, his wife cheated on him and Old Wang caught her in the act. Since then, he has become even more silent and withdrawn; it seems like nothing holds any meaning for him anymore."
A few people nodded in agreement; Old Wang's personality was indeed like that.
Liu asked, "Well, let's put aside Old Wang for now. We're not here because of him."
"Not because of Old Wang?" Director Liao replied. "Are you saying there's danger here? That's impossible. We strictly adhere to production standards. Workers take a half-hour break after every three hours to prevent fatigue-related accidents. There has never been an incident of someone getting caught in the machines; they're all adults and understand the power of the machinery. We've all undergone safety training."
"Take us to have a look," Liu said.
Director Liao nodded. Although he knew we weren't here because of Old Wang, he still brought up the topic: "This morning, Old Wang didn't come to work and didn't call in sick. I called around to find out what happened. I heard that a child was thrown down and their head was smashed; there was brain matter everywhere."
"Those are just rumors; don't believe such exaggerated stories," Liu said. "I can only tell you it's a homicide case; everything else is still under investigation. This is serious business, so I hope you can cooperate with us."
"Cooperate!" Director Liao exclaimed. "After an industrial accident, who doesn't end up losing everything? In another factory, there was a case where someone intentionally inserted their finger into a machine to claim injury compensation, crying for sympathy online and ended up with tens of thousands in donations. They bought a house in the city and got married."
"It's a money-driven society; there's no way around it," Liu sighed heavily, seemingly affected by this reality.
Director Liao continued, "Old Wang has been with me for over twenty years. I just sent a driver to pick him up; we'll have a nice meal together when he returns. He only broke an arm; he'll be fine after some rest."
As we spoke, we entered the workshop. Upon entering, we realized how large it truly was—there were at least a hundred people standing by the assembly line working on various tasks. The massive assembly line housed numerous machines that I couldn't identify, some of which looked quite intimidating.
Director Liao looked at the workers with pride and said, "Don't worry; there's no real danger here. The only dangerous machine is that divider over there; it's indeed sharp and used for producing phone cases. If someone were to fall into it, they'd likely be reduced to pulp. But do you think any sane person would fall in?"
"Or maybe," Director Liao said with a light smile, "if the Murderer has such courage, let him try. There are at least thirty strong men here; the Murderer can't possibly kill anyone here."
We approached the Divider and peered inside, where we saw rapidly spinning blades. Rectangular metal pieces entered from one end and emerged shaped like phone cases. The buzzing sound was from the blades slicing through the air, but Director Liao's reassurance was not without reason.
If no one deliberately tried to enter, there was no way the Murderer could push someone in with so many people around.
I spoke up, "Will work start tonight?"
"No," Director Liao shook his head. "No one dares to now; security is tight."
Liu nodded and said, "Right, keep an eye on this area."
At that moment, a woman called out from a distance, "Director Liao?"
Hearing the voice, we turned to see a woman in her forties. She didn't look well-maintained and appeared to be an ordinary middle-aged woman rather than a wealthy lady.
Upon seeing her, Director Liao exclaimed and asked, "Yan Zhenyan? What brings you here?"
Hearing Director Liao's words, Yan Zhenyan looked puzzled. "Didn't you ask your secretary to call me?"
As Director Liao walked outside, he replied, "Don't disturb the workers. Let's step outside. But Yan Zhenyan, I never asked my secretary to call you. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?"
"What is this?" Liu glanced at Director Liao.
"Get up, this is Old Wang's ex-wife, Yan Zhenyan," Director Liao introduced. "But I really don't understand why I would look for you."
Yan Zhenyan entered with an excited expression, but upon hearing Director Liao's words, her face darkened. She asked seriously, "Director Liao, we've known each other for twenty years, right? That incident is in the past; there's no need to joke about it."
Director Liao frowned and replied, "I've been with these officers the whole time. When did I ever call you? What are you doing here?"
Seeing that Director Liao didn't seem to be lying, Yan Zhenyan asked in confusion, "But a woman claiming to be your secretary said that Old Wang died from a work-related injury. There’s an insurance beneficiary listed as me, and there’s a compensation of three hundred thousand. That's why I came to verify it."
Everyone furrowed their brows.
Putting aside Yan Zhenyan's reaction to the fake news—rather than being sad, she seemed more interested in the money—and the nature of her relationship with Old Wang, one question remained: who made that phone call? Old Wang was still in the hospital; how could he have died from a work-related injury?
Liu also realized this and quickly identified himself. "Someone called you? Hand me your phone right now."
Startled by Liu's demeanor, Yan Zhenyan handed over her phone and said, "It's the first number in the call log."
We crowded around to take a look; the number was local to Dongxing City. Liu didn't think twice and called it back, only to hear a message indicating that the number had been disconnected.
Liu Gang was about to say something when suddenly screams erupted around us—sounds of panic as many people retreated. The shrill cries startled me, and I hurriedly turned to see what was happening. What I saw was shocking.
I stood frozen in place, my mind buzzing with disbelief.
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