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墨書 Inktalez
"Let's go," Old Shao said to Jiang He beside him. "Since the game has already started, the planner behind it will definitely not come back. There's nothing left to investigate in this room. However, there is still one question: when Huang Zhengqing is interrogated, we will personally release him. Why do you think we must let Huang Zhengqing go?"
Jiang He fell silent for a few seconds before replying, "I can't think of anything right now."
The journey continued in silence.
By the time they returned to the City Bureau, it was already early morning. Several detectives had fallen asleep in the car. They hadn't rested at all and were utterly exhausted.
Xu Yiman had been waiting at the City Bureau for the special investigation team to return and hadn't closed her eyes. It was undeniable that Han Liqun was dead by the time they got into the car. According to the autopsy results, Han Liqun had only one wound, which was on his head. The head injury was fatal, and after analysis, it could be confirmed that Han Liqun had committed suicide.
When Jiang He and Old Shao informed Xu Yiman of the investigation team's findings, she was left speechless in shock.
After a long pause, Xu Yiman finally spoke up, "If a person would rather die than betray those behind them, what could be the reason?"
Old Shao raised two fingers. "It comes down to two words: respect and fear. Respect refers to the feelings that emanate from within a person; it's a subjective behavior where someone willingly protects another person without revealing their identity, even at the cost of their life. Fear, on the other hand, is not about internal motivation; it's about facing consequences that are unbearable—something one wouldn't dare to do."
"However, based on the information Jiang He and I found at the scene, it seems there is more respect involved," Old Shao continued. "This has almost become Feng Gaofei's belief. Looking at Huang Zhengqing's demeanor, he also refrains from mentioning that person behind him. I even suspect that Huang Zhengqing's reason for coming here might be related to this."
"What reason?" Jiang He and Xu Yiman asked almost in unison.
Old Shao pushed open the door and walked into the City Bureau lobby. "Huang Zhengqing revealed himself from the very beginning; he had no choice but to do so. To lure Pang Suzhang out, he needed to act convincingly, which meant he couldn't hide his appearance; otherwise, people would definitely become suspicious. Therefore, Huang Zhengqing never intended to escape; someone behind him must have given his wife a considerable amount of money. Huang Zhengqing has likely sold his life."
Upon hearing Old Shao's words, Jiang He analyzed, "If what you say is correct, based on this fact, I have an eighty percent probability of believing that Huang Zhengqing will not come out."
Old Shao sighed deeply.
Captain Ma was not at the City Bureau at that moment. After receiving a call from Wang Chao, he hurried off to investigate the matters concerning Aunt Wang's descendants, hardly pausing for a moment.
Shao waved his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep. Maintaining full energy and stamina is the primary prerequisite for being able to work. We have four hours until dawn, so act immediately."
While Xu Yiman was still dozing off, Wang Chao returned with two large dark circles under his eyes, bringing along Huang Zhengqing's wife and child.
Old Shao and Jiang He had risen early, arriving at the interrogation room, while Wang Chao took the opportunity to rest for a bit.
After briefly explaining a few things, Wang Chao laid his head on the table and fell asleep.
Wang Chao had uncovered some information: every month, money was deposited into Huang Zhengqing's wife's bank account, but she had no idea who was doing it. After passing this clue to Guan Deng, he quickly traced the remitter's information. It turned out that the remitter was none other than Huang Zhengqing himself, who deposited money into his wife's account each month.
However, Huang Zhengqing did not have a legitimate job, and sending three thousand yuan to his wife each month was quite difficult for him.
More importantly, Guan Deng discovered that Huang Zhengqing currently had five hundred thousand yuan in his account. This account had been set up with an automatic transfer feature; starting next month, six thousand yuan would be transferred monthly to Huang Zhengqing's wife's account. Clearly, Huang Zhengqing did not have the means to earn that much money.
The money was sent by the game's designer to Huang Zhengqing, but this account was hidden away, with the account holder's information located overseas and impossible to trace. Nevertheless, Guan Deng did not give up; he believed that by peeling back the layers of this mystery, he would eventually uncover who was sending this money to Huang Zhengqing.
Upon seeing his wife and child, tears suddenly shimmered in Huang Zhengqing's eyes, though they did not fall.
In front of the child, Old Shao did not light a cigarette.
He simply spoke up. "Huang Zhengqing, we know you send three thousand yuan home every month. But as an unemployed drifter, how do you manage to earn that? You must be doing anything you can—collecting scrap, running errands for others—anything for money. Working hard for a month just to send three thousand yuan home; you still care about your wife and son, don’t you?"
Huang Zhengqing refused to look anyone in the eye and merely sneered. "If it weren't for the court's ruling, do you think I would comply? What a joke! I would have divorced that woman long ago. This son is indeed mine, but so what? I’ve never had parents looking after me; I’ve managed to live this long."
Jiang He remained silent, observing Huang Zhengqing's wife and son.
The mother and child were indeed dressed very simply, their clothes not expensive. The woman had no jewelry on her face or hands, except for a single ring. Jiang He glanced at the ring; it was an old gold band, its inscription worn to the point of being nearly unreadable.
Jiang He noticed that Huang Zhengqing also wore a similar gold ring on his hand, clearly indicating that the two rings were a matching pair.
This was quite strange. These were obviously wedding rings, yet the couple was divorced. Why were they still wearing them? Furthermore, Huang Zhengqing was someone who barely had enough to eat; why hadn’t he sold the ring for some cash? Why hadn’t either of them chosen to sell the rings during their most difficult times?
Jiang He leaned closer to Old Shao and pointed out this detail.
Old Shao had already picked up on it. The more Huang Zhengqing tried to distance himself from his wife and son, the more it indicated how much he cared about that connection. His desperate attempts to deny any relationship with them only highlighted his anxiety regarding that very bond.
Huang Zhengqing was a criminal; he didn’t want to involve his wife and son in his troubles. If he had wanted to protect them, he wouldn’t have divorced his wife or abandoned his child before planning the robbery. For someone like Huang Zhengqing, perhaps letting go was the best form of protection for them. His life might be ruined, but he couldn’t allow his wife and child to suffer the same fate.
“You don’t need to pretend,” Old Shao said softly as he looked at Huang Zhengqing. “It’s been years; you’ve wanted to see your wife and child, but you can’t. Because you’re a robber, your presence would only bring trouble to them. So you’d rather be alone than cause them any more problems. You still love your wife, and she loves you too. Just look at the rings on each other’s fingers.”
Huang Zhengqing and his wife exchanged glances and indeed noticed the wedding rings still on each other’s fourth fingers.
But Huang Zhengqing suddenly yanked the ring off his finger and threw it at his wife’s face. “Get lost! If you hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have remembered; I don’t want this ring anymore!”
The gold ring struck his wife's face before falling to the ground with a dull thud, rolling three times before coming to rest in the corner of the interrogation room, gathering dust.
Tears streamed down the woman’s face as their young child shouted, “Mommy, let’s go! He’s not my dad! He’s not my dad!”
Old Shao observed Huang Zhengqing's expression; he remained indifferent, coldly watching his son cry out and his wife silently weep. Huang Zhengqing appeared utterly heartless.
"Is that so?" Old Shao pulled out a tissue and handed it to Huang Zhengqing's wife. "We all know you have someone backing you. If you come forward, you could be considered to have made a special contribution, and I could bail you out right now. But if you don't, you'll have to sit in jail until we get to the bottom of this. If it takes five years, you'll be locked up for five years; if it takes ten years, then ten years; if it takes a lifetime, you'll be here for life."
"But..." Old Shao's tone shifted. "What about your wife? What about your child? Fifty thousand—can that really solve the problem? The police have the authority to seize large amounts of unexplained illicit funds. You think your backers are helping you, but they're actually harming you. Do you really believe they're doing this for justice?"
"No," Old Shao answered himself. "Justice is never something that can be uncovered. Their self-proclaimed justice is merely a means to an end; their goal is just for amusement. If it were truly about justice, they would bring these people to the police station instead of setting up their own court to decide others' fates. Today they think scamming deserves punishment; tomorrow they might decide that cursing or public defecation is also punishable. The law is a baseline, not a ceiling."
Huang Zhengqing looked at Old Shao. "I don't know anything about fifty thousand. All I know is that this woman and this son are no longer my concern. I won't do anything; if you want to kill me, go ahead. If you want to lock me up, do it. Just stop bothering me."
Old Shao sighed, unsure how that person had managed to turn Huang Zhengqing and Feng Gaofei into loyal subordinates.
"Are you really planning to abandon your family?" Old Shao asked.
Huang Zhengqing didn't answer, but his closed eyes revealed everything.
Huang Zhengqing's son was still cursing; he didn't quite understand that sometimes not acknowledging him was the best gift Huang Zhengqing could give.
"We have a lead!" a detective knocked on the door.
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