Chapter 17: Are You Testing Cadres with That Face?

Chapter 17: Are You Testing an Officer with That Face?

Jian Ruochen looked up, a smile playing on his lips, and said, "Alright. I need to see the layout and photos of the suspect's home. Do you have them?"

"Yes," Guan Yingjun replied, glancing back.

Zhang Xingzong immediately turned on his heel, ran to fetch them, and handed them to Jian Ruochen.

The photos were detailed.

From the looks of it, the suspect indeed had an extremely severe case of obsessive-compulsive disorder. All the furnishings in his home were arranged as if measured with a ruler, perfectly aligned and straight.

Jian Ruochen thought for a moment, then lowered his head and pulled the drawstring of his fleece hoodie.

The once neatly tied drawstring now hung unevenly, one long and one short, completely disordered.

Ding Gao curled his lip.

What's the point of these little tricks?

Detective Guan's decision was really reckless.

Could a college student understand interrogation better than us cops?

Ding Gao turned to the female officer beside him, Bi Wanwan, and said, "If he comes up empty, will you go comfort him later?"

Bi Wanwan glanced at him sharply. "Me?"

Ding Gao muttered under his breath, "You know Detective Guan's temper."

"When I first joined the team, I vomited at the sight of a corpse. Have you forgotten how Detective Guan chewed me out? If Jian Ruochen can't get anything out of the suspect, he'll be worse off than I was. What if he ends up crying from being yelled at?"

Bi Wanwan said dryly, "How old are you, and how old is Jian Ruochen? You've been working for two years, and your results aren't even as much as what he accomplished in one night at the Platinum Club. Do you think Detective Guan treats you and him the same?"

Ding Gao fell silent, crossing his arms as he looked toward the interrogation room.

***

Fu Yiwei was inside, eyes closed, meditating.

He sat upright in the center of the interrogation chair, head bowed.

Hearing the commotion, he didn't open his eyes but said calmly, "I've already said everything I need to say. I only killed the patrol officer to solve a problem for my loved one. You can just send me to trial and sentence me to life imprisonment."

Jian Ruochen didn't respond immediately. After nearly ten seconds, he said, "I don't believe you."

Fu Yiwei suddenly opened his eyes.

Jian Ruochen smiled. "You seem surprised?"

"Not really." Fu Yiwei licked his lips. "Why did the cops bring you here? Were you the one working with the police to act and catch me that day? I never would've guessed."

His gaze fell on the drawstrings of Jian Ruochen's hoodie. The uneven lengths of the strings seemed to turn into two snakes, slithering over him.

Fu Yiwei looked away uncomfortably.

Jian Ruochen slammed the table without warning and shouted, "Look at me!"

Outside the interrogation room.

Guan Yingjun raised an eyebrow.

Zhang Xingzong shuddered.

He had thought Jian Ruochen would take a gentle approach to the interrogation, gently coaxing the suspect to lower his guard and trick him into a mistake.

He never expected him to be so intense and intimidating!

It was... kind of cool.

Jian Ruochen's expression darkened as he commanded, "Speak!"

Fu Yiwei had no choice but to look up. The two drawstrings, now completely uneven, slithered into his vision like snakes again.

To avoid this discomfort, Fu Yiwei resorted to focusing his gaze on Jian Ruochen's face.

This way, his previously hidden expression was completely exposed to everyone's view.

Jian Ruochen took out the photo of the bathroom from the stack. It showed the glowing spots from the Luminol reagent reaction, with large patches of fluorescent color impossible to miss.

He slapped the photo down in front of Fu Yiwei and demanded, "You like killing chickens?"

"How many chickens would it take to splatter this much blood?"

"Which chicken's blood splattered onto the ceiling?"

Fu Yiwei's eyes darted around. Why wasn't Jian Ruochen breaking the pattern?

The other police officers had threatened him, demanding his cooperation with the investigation. Why was Jian Ruochen playing along with his story and asking about the chicken-killing process?

He was completely unprepared! What should he do?

Fu Yiwei involuntarily thought of the men and women he had tortured and murdered in the bathroom.

When had the blood splattered onto the ceiling?

It was probably his first love, a short-haired girl.

It was his first time killing someone, and he wasn't skilled yet.

The first cut was too shallow, not fatal.

The girl had struggled violently, and the blood splattered onto the ceiling. He had to scrub it for a long time with the showerhead to clean it off.

Jian Ruochen watched his face.

His eyes rolled upward—a clear sign he was recalling the crime scene.

He sneered, "What happened to the chickens you killed?"

Fu Yiwei let out a weird laugh and licked his lips again. "Of course, I ate them."

His eerie gaze swept over Jian Ruochen's neck, and he swallowed audibly, not bothering to hide it.

Jian Ruochen asked, "What about the bones?"

Fu Yiwei fell silent.

It was a silent denial.

Human bones are durable and hard to dispose of. Throwing them away would be too obvious, since they’d easily be found and reported to the police. However, no related reports came in, meaning Fu Yiwei didn’t toss the bones but instead hid them.

Where did he hide them?

Jian Ruochen mused, flipping through the documents in his hand.

People with OCD behavior often follow set routines and dislike changes to their plans. His hiding place must be an extremely stable location, hard for outsiders to get into.

Commonly referred to as a psychological safe zone.

Jian Ruochen turned to the floor plan of the apartment complex where Fu Yiwei lived, looking it over inch by inch.

The interrogation room was dead quiet, with only the sound of pages turning breaking the silence.

Ding Gao didn’t get it. "Why did he stop questioning? Has he run out of moves?"

"Impossible," Zhang Xingzong said, backing Jian Ruochen all the way. "God of Wealth must have his reasons for doing this."

Guan Yingjun glanced at Zhang Xingzong, thinking he had become way too trusting.

They had known each other for less than half a month, and he was already like this—who knew what would happen in the future?

Fortunately, Guan Yingjun had always relied on his own judgment and would never be so irrational.

After ten minutes of silence.

Fu Yiwei grew increasingly antsy from the inexplicable pause.

Most police officers followed standard questioning—this wasn’t how it usually went.

Who the hell was Jian Ruochen?

What was he looking for on the map?

Shit, this is irritating.

Jian Ruochen closed the map and suddenly asked, "Do you work out often?"

Fu Yiwei’s brain froze for a moment.

Why’s he asking such a question?

Jian Ruochen answered his own question. "When I asked, your eyelids flicked up, and your lower lip tugged down—a sign of surprise. It means my question caught you off guard."

"Then you looked down to cover your expression, and your eyes shifted side to side. That’s you thinking about how to respond."

"Before speaking, you tilted your head a little, shifted your gaze for a moment, and pressed your lips together. That’s a sign you’re about to lie."

Jian Ruochen leaned back in his chair. "Who told you you could lie in front of me?"

Fu Yiwei started sweating buckets.

He figured he’d covered well.

How did this happen?

He didn’t say a thing!

Fu Yiwei’s mouth went dry, and he kept swallowing.

Jian Ruochen shrugged, fake-sympathetic. "This was just a simple question. Most people would only need to answer 'yes' or 'no.' Why did you feel the need to lie?"

He drawled a bit, the fake-innocent tone in his voice sending chills down Fu Yiwei’s spine.

Jian Ruochen pushed gently, "Is it because the gym you frequent is shady?"

Fu Yiwei breathed faster. "You’re seeing things. Why would I lie? Besides, can’t the cops tell I work out?"

Jian Ruochen said, "Of course the police can tell. Detective Guan isn’t stupid."

Guan Yingjun, standing outside, folded his arms, lips tight.

This man…

He recalled the determined expression on Jian Ruochen’s face when he said, "I would never harm you," and for a moment, he zoned out.

Did Jian Ruochen truly trust him?

Guan Yingjun shook it off almost instantly and refocused on the interrogation room.

Jian Ruochen continued, "Butchering chickens takes effort too. If you hadn’t trained, how could you have restrained someone?"

Fu Yiwei’s attention had already been diverted by the gym-related question, and he didn’t even notice that "chickens" had been replaced with "people."

Sweat covered his face, and for a moment, he didn’t rebut.

Jian Ruochen said, "Alright, you don’t seem willing to talk about working out. Let’s discuss the gym instead."

Fu Yiwei was so angry his hands trembled.

Damn it, what’s the difference between the two?

Jian Ruochen unfolded the map with a rustle, picked up a red marker from the interrogation table, and attached the map to the whiteboard with a magnet.

Fu Yiwei pressed his lips together.

There were four gyms near his apartment complex, and he had membership cards for all of them. Without evidence, the police couldn’t make too much of a scene, or the paparazzi would have a field day.

The police in West Kowloon would never search all four gyms. As long as he didn’t slip up and give the police a specific target...

Everything would be fine!

But was it really fine?

Jian Ruochen smiled.

Fu Yiwei felt a chill run down his spine.

Jian Ruochen flicked his wrist and drew a bold circle on the map, explaining thoughtfully, "Generally, a criminal’s psychological safe zone is within a radius of 500 to 1000 meters. If we take your home as the center... the circle would be about this big."

The marker tapped on the whiteboard.

Jian Ruochen feigned difficulty. "There are two gyms within this circle."

He drew a small circle around one of them and turned to ask, "Is it this one?"

Fu Yiwei had no idea what Jian Ruochen was up to.

Why would he answer?

Damn, someone like Jian Ruochen is completely unsuitable as a romantic partner or prey.

He should just cut out that reddest tongue from his head and stuff it into the trash along with that cop's body!

Seeing that he wasn’t speaking, Jian Ruochen sighed regretfully, "Guess not. You look quite confident, even a bit cocky. Let me see… your brow is furrowed, your upper lip is raised… seems like you even hate me, hate me so much you want to toss me in the garbage."

Fu Yiwei stared in shock.

How did Jian Ruochen know what he was thinking?

Can he read minds?

Jian Ruochen walked over to the other side of the map again, "Then it's over here?"

As he walked, the two drawstrings of his hoodie, one long and one short, swayed in front of his neck, occasionally tangling together like a writhing two-headed snake.

Fu Yiwei yelled, "Enough!"

He clenched his fists, anxiously shifting his wrists, the bones chafed raw and bloody by the handcuffs, "What exactly are you asking? Is it that I can’t even go to the gym?"

Jian Ruochen: "You’re losing your cool, you’re losing your cool."

Fu Yiwei was so angry he wanted to stand up and punch him.

But his feet were shackled to the chair, and his hands were cuffed to the table, unable to move.

Jian Ruochen glanced outside the interrogation room.

The one-way glass was foggy, making it impossible to see outside clearly.

But Guan Yingjun knew Jian Ruochen was looking at him.

Guan Yingjun stepped forward, opened the door, and walked in to look at the map, "Certain?"

"Mostly. I suspect the bones are in a private locker at the gym. Upscale gym lockers are well-sealed and private. Bones sealed in a bag won’t give off any smell."

As he spoke, Jian Ruochen thought of the scene and scrunched his nose, "Do I have to go too?"

To be honest, he hadn’t seen a fresh corpse before.

He’d heard from police academy seniors that no matter how tough a cadet is, everyone vomits the first time.

He didn’t want that; it’s kinda nasty.

"Scared?" Guan Yingjun had thought he was fearless.

The young man’s face was strikingly beautiful even under the harsh interrogation room lights. His bloodless lips were moist, as if frequently licked, the cupid's bow slightly prominent…

He abruptly looked away, instinctively saying, "Stay here. You can rest in my office."

Jian Ruochen let out a sigh of relief, glancing strangely at Guan Yingjun’s chest.

Was he seeing things? Did Detective Guan’s pecs just twitch?

Is it necessary to get so excited about digging up evidence?

Puzzled, Jian Ruochen walked into Detective Guan’s private office.

Senior Inspectors have individual offices, but Guan Yingjun usually worked outside with his team.

Jian Ruochen plopped into the executive chair, then spun around with a "whoosh" on the wheels, "Inspector Guan, oh Inspector Guan, testing a colleague with a private office, are we?"

Trying to see if he’d snoop around?

Heh, older men—say one thing, do another.

Probably even hid a recorder in the drawer, waiting for him to take the bait.

Jian Ruochen slumped into the chair and closed his eyes.

If he just crashed out, how would the big man handle that?

As Jian Ruochen fell into a deep sleep, entering REM and starting to dream,

Guan Yingjun found the human bones Fu Yiwei had hidden in the private gym locker.

Ding Gao was stunned, "Wow, it’s really here? I thought he was just bluffing! Fu Yiwei didn’t say a word—how on earth did he do it?"

Is the gap between people really this big?

Is Jian Ruochen some kind of mind-reader?

Bi Wanwan patted his shoulder, "Now do you still think he’s on your level?"

Ding Gao shuddered, his expression dazed and confused.

Zhang Xingzong said, "You just don’t get it… I told you before, the God of Wealth has his reasons for doing things this way!"

Ding Gao thought bewilderedly: What reasons? I totally don’t understand!

Fu Yiwei was interrogated to the point… his anxiety spiked. How did Jian Ruochen even do that?

Ding Gao suddenly remembered those two mismatched hoodie drawstrings.

…That wasn’t just useless fidgeting!

Jian Ruochen had already prepared to trigger Fu Yiwei’s anxiety disorder outside the interrogation room, thinking ten steps ahead.

How ridiculous that he’d thought those were pointless gestures—turns out the guy was operating on a whole other level!

Ding Gao came to his senses, murmuring, "So cool, is he a genius?"

Zhang Xingzong corrected, "He’s the God of Wealth. This serial disappearance case—only our Detective Guan treated it as a murder case, investigated it for so many years, and who’d have thought it’d be solved today?"

He rubbed his fingers together, "How much bonus is this gonna be?"

"And the Platinum Club involved in the vice case—fat bonus."

From now on, we gotta show the God of Wealth some respect.

The team bagged the evidence, and Guan Yingjun sealed all three lockers Fu Yiwei had rented.

Heading back now.

With the body found and the interrogation recorded, the next steps were much easier. Follow-up was handed to the junior inspectors below, reports to the officers.

It wasn’t until Guan Yingjun was washing his hands, ready to clock out, that he remembered there was still someone in his office.

He froze.

The office is a very personal space, containing items like blankets and water bottles that could easily be compromised. How could he have casually suggested letting someone into his office before leaving?

Would Jian Ruochen snoop around?

Guan Yingjun turned the knob and pushed the door open, only to see the young man lying back in his chair. The chair, which felt a bit tight when he sat in it himself, seemed almost too spacious with Jian Ruochen in it.

The teenager lay sprawled out in the chair, limbs relaxed, lips slightly parted in sleep. He was draped in the blanket Guan Yingjun had left nearby, his face flushed and breathing steady—almost snoring softly.

Guan Yingjun scanned the office, lifted the lid of the water bottle to check its contents, then pulled open the left drawer and retrieved the recorder that was kept running 24/7. He fast-forwarded through the recording until he heard the line—

"Inspector Guan, oh Inspector Guan, testing a subordinate with your private office, are you?"

Guan Yingjun: …

It was a misunderstanding. This time, he really hadn’t thought that far.

*Ding ling ling—*

The old-fashioned desk phone on the desk suddenly rang.

Guan Yingjun picked it up as quickly as possible, shooting a glance at Jian Ruochen.

He’d been woken up anyway, his eyes still dazed with sleep.

Guan Yingjun对着听筒道：“喂？”

"Yingjun?" Chen Yunchuan's voice came through. "I heard from Li Zhangyu that Jian Ruochen is there helping you?"

Guan Yingjun grunted in reply.

Chen Yunchuan lowered her voice. "Bring him to Sham Shui Po. Someone from Jiang Yongyan’s family is here. Jiang Hanyu from the Jiang family is hinting, straight up and between the lines, that Jian Ruochen had a grudge against Jiang Yongyan and is the most likely suspect. I’ve called Li Zhangyu over too. We need to go over alibis."

Guan Yingjun frowned. "The Jiang family is there? Is Jiang Mingshan there too?"

Chen Yunchuan said indignantly, "More than that—they even brought paparazzi! They’re trying to push a narrative about how unsafe the police station detention center is!"

Guan Yingjun glanced at Jian Ruochen, who still seemed a bit disoriented. "Auntie, we’ll head over in a bit. Give us 20 minutes. He just woke up and needs to pull himself together."

Chen Yunchuan: "Oh? Oh."

She held the now-disconnected call, putting it together.

This hour? Together? In the office? And he just woke up?

What?