Chapter 43: I Was Wrong

Chapter 43 I Was Wrong

Jian Ruochen opened his mouth, about to speak, when a voice came from behind.

"Unlikely." Guan Yingjun had approached unnoticed. "We've had the aluminum box for a while now, but haven't found any similar samples on the market. This suggests these lunchboxes haven't entered the retail market."

Song Xuyi grasped half the meaning, hesitating to ask further.

Jian Ruochen glanced between them and explained, "No retail products means middlemen haven't received goods from suppliers."

"If middlemen haven't gotten them, but the killer managed to obtain a large quantity through wholesale, it means the killer must have a close relationship with the manufacturer."

It clicked for Song Xuyi. "So that's it!"

His mind just hadn't made the connection earlier.

Detective Guan only ever explains half, and most people can't keep up with his train of thought, so they're left in the dust.

They really rely on Jian Ruochen.

Song Xuyi snapped the tracing paper in his hand. "So even if this killer isn't connected to Lu Qian, he must have ties to the manufacturer. Catching him means finding the factory's location!"

Once they locate the lunchbox factory, they can follow the trail to Lu Qian's drug production site!

Taking down the production site would be like cutting off Lu Qian's legs.

He rushed over, throwing an arm around Jian Ruochen's shoulders and giving two hearty pats, too excited to speak.

They had nearly torn apart all of Western Kowloon for these lunchboxes, burned through all their informants without any breakthrough leads.

Never did they expect to see a ray of hope today.

Jian Ruochen swayed from the forceful pats, half his body going numb, feeling a little spaced out.

Brother Song, maybe it's better if you just doubt me.

This kind of hero worship and affection is a bit too heavy...

Some ten minutes later, Forensics finished collecting evidence at the scene and handed the preliminary field report to Guan Yingjun.

Xiang Jingrong looked completely wiped. "Detective Guan, the remains were chopped up into too many small pieces, and a large amount of bone is missing. We'll do our best to piece the body back together within a week and provide you with a detailed autopsy report and victim analysis."

"From the shoe prints in the freezer and the underground slaughterhouse, the perp worked alone. Here's the analysis of his footprints."

Xiang Jingrong handed the report to Guan Yingjun. "Just like Jian Ruochen figured, the perp is about 174 cm tall. Based on calculations, he weighs around 175 pounds, with a stocky build, and likely possesses significant strength."

His voice was drained and tired; sorting through the body parts in the kitchen and freezer really took a toll.

Xiang Jingrong took off his bloody gloves and tossed them into a garbage bag he carried. "With Jian Ruochen on your team, you're cranking out suspect profiles faster than forensics."

The envy in his tone was unmistakable.

Guan Yingjun skimmed through the materials, his peripheral vision catching the young man waiting to see the report. He remarked, "He's a natural cop, has a strong sense of justice and kindness. He knows investigative procedures cold and doesn't blink at fieldwork."

"He assists with interrogations internally and racks up results on the streets externally."

"In terms of solving cases, he's already an expert all on his own."

Xiang Jingrong was stunned.

Wasn't his earlier comment meant to be fishing for some bragging?

What was this?

Was Guan Yingjun showing off just to make him more jealous?

How cruel!

Guan Yingjun continued praising, "Teacher Li says he's run out of things to teach him about microexpressions; now it's just behavioral profiling. Don't be fooled by how accurate he is now—he's only been at it a little while."

Xiang Jingrong looked totally lost.

How strange.

After working together for so long, this seemed to be the first time Guan Yingjun had ever praised someone.

So Guan Yingjun did have people skills and knew how to work a conversation.

When Guan Yingjun engaged both his IQ and EQ, he could really make people feel good, his flattery smooth and comforting.

Jian Ruochen pursed his lips, glanced at Xiang Jingrong's expression, and modestly said, "Behavioral profiling and forensic techniques complement each other; both are indispensable. Sir Xiang's data is meticulous, reliable, and well-supported."

Xiang Jingrong was feeling pretty good but wasn't sure how to respond.

What was even happening here?

He hadn't experienced anything like it.

Guan Yingjun blew right past Xiang Jingrong and plowed ahead, "Everyone in the Major Crimes Unit calls him the Little God of Wealth, but I think he's more like Guanyin."

Xiang Jingrong picked up on it, "Indeed, Guanyin is the Bodhisattva of Wisdom."

Guan Yingjun said, "Yes, and he also bailed out your photo team. He can work connections for leads, is sharp, and has a good heart."

Jian Ruochen was getting weirded out but curious about what Guan Yingjun would do next.

Any more praise would be too much...

If he kept going, he'd have to cut in.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Guan Yingjun reached the last page of the report.

He closed it and handed it over, "Take a look."

Jian Ruochen accepted it, feeling almost disappointed.

Guan Yingjun stared at Jian Ruochen's head, spaced out for a second, then turned and asked, "Sir Xiang, is there anything else you haven't reported?"

Xiang Jingrong said, "Oh, right. The perp used a chainsaw to dismember the body, cutting it into basketball-sized chunks, then used a cleaver to chop them into smaller pieces, which is why the cleaver has so many nicks."

"As for the murder weapon, we haven't found it yet. We'll need to reassemble all the bones before we can determine what was used to kill the victim."

He checked his watch. "We'll head out now. We have a long night ahead. You all take it from here."

After the vehicles carrying Forensics and the body parts drove off, Jian Ruochen finished reading the report.

He muttered, puzzled, "How could our perp be working alone?"

Guan Yingjun's expression went sharp. "What makes you say that?"

This was the second time Jian Ruochen had raised such doubts; he would never make baseless claims.

"The notches on the cleaver—I can't make sense of them," Jian Ruochen said distractedly.

"Asperger's syndrome comes with a certain degree of stereotyped behavior. This killer should be accustomed to using either the blade’s tip or heel to cut things. Given such an either-or habit, it's impossible for him to have chipped the blade like that..."

As his words fell, a snicker came from behind.

Jian Ruochen turned to see that Colin and the district officers hadn't left yet; they were standing nearby, gawking.

It wasn't Colin who had laughed, but a brown-haired Englishman beside him with a thinning hairline.

He spoke in fluent British English, "Forensics already said there's only one set of footprints at the crime scene. There must be only one killer."

Just then, Zhang Xingzong returned from his first round of interviews with the onlookers outside.

He took one look at the wall and started gagging. With a wave of his hand, he brushed past Colin and the Englishman, calling out, "Detective Guan, let's talk outside. It's too crowded in here."

Jian Ruochen: Hah.

This Zhang Xingzong, actually throwing shade to stick up for him.

He walked outside, and Zhang Xingzong immediately said, "I asked around just now. The onlookers said the owner of this steamed rice shop is called Chen Ji, and everyone usually calls him Boss Ji."

Zhang Xingzong frowned. "Neighbors and nearby shopkeepers mentioned that A Ji had been selling steamed rice for eight years. About a year ago, he suddenly closed the shop for half a year. Everyone thought he was done for good, but then he came back."

"After returning, A Ji had put on significant weight, became less talkative, and started liking to wear hats and masks. But the steamed rice he made now had more meat than before, tasted better, and business boomed."

"A Ji sometimes even dragged a cart to deliver box lunches to the homeless under the overpass. People in this commercial street have a generally positive impression of him."

Colin, standing nearby, looked like he wanted to flee. He blurted out, "Do the reporters and the public not know yet that this shop was selling human flesh?"

His voice wasn't actually loud, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been heard by those outside the police line.

But reporters have sharp ears and are alert, always paying close attention to the scene.

They had been trying every way to dig up information, and now, faintly hearing Colin's words, they immediately stirred.

"What? A Ji was selling human flesh?"

"It wasn't A Ji who was the victim?"

"Then everyone who ever ate a box lunch from A Ji's shop might have eaten human flesh?"

"Oh my god—"

Some of the onlookers standing with the reporters vomited on the spot.

Zhang Xingzong wanted to strangle Colin. "Who trained you?"

Although he had been a mild-mannered, easygoing nice guy in the A Division of the Police Headquarters, he commanded authority outside. "No matter who told you to stay here, get the hell out now!"

Colin knew he had screwed up big time.

He opened his mouth, glanced at the expressions of the officers present, and didn't dare say another word.

So unlucky. Finally stumbled upon a case worth a Second Class Merit, only to have it taken away by the Police Headquarters. And now, such a huge embarrassment today...

He resented the Police Headquarters but couldn't take it out on their officers, so he directed all his anger at the reporters. "What are you all doing gathered here? What are you looking at?"

Instead of dispersing, the reporters swarmed more intensely, shoving microphones almost into his mouth. "You just said this shop was selling human flesh. Is that true?"

"What progress has been made on the case? Is the psychopathic killer A Ji?"

"It must be A Ji! Don't you know how to ask questions?"

"Let me!"

That reporter shoved his way through the crowd. "What are A Ji's characteristics? He's so dangerous—he must have killed quite a few people, right? The police should release his information so the public can be on guard!"

The crowd: "Yes! Release the information!"

Colin had never seen such a scene before; his face turned pale under the barrage of flashes. "I don't know."

Normally, saying "I don't know" wouldn't be a big deal, but saying it in front of reporters at a crime scene was like dropping a match in gasoline!

The reporters exploded:

"You don't know?"

"Does the police have no clues at all?"

"It's been so long already, and you haven't even identified where the suspect might have fled?"

"When did Kowloon's police become so incompetent!"

Mentioning incompetence made people think of Jian Ruochen, who had shattered the incompetence rumors.

The reporters went quiet for a moment. "Where is Jian Ruochen? We want to interview him!"

Jian Ruochen turned and took a step toward the reporters but was quickly grabbed by the wrist.

Guan Yingjun's throat went tight.

Teacher Li was right—Jian Ruochen was now deeply tied to West Kowloon, sharing both glory and disgrace. He was gradually replacing the external image of the Police Headquarters, becoming the public face of the force.

He was shouldering extraordinary pressure.

Guan Yingjun tightened his grip, pulling Jian Ruochen back. "The flashes are too bright. Don't go."

He said firmly, "I've got this."

Jian Ruochen patted the back of his hand. "I'll just use some eyedrops after. This case is too strange; I have some theories I need to verify."

With a twist of his wrist, he effortlessly broke free from the restraint and walked up to the reporters. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

The shutters clicked rapidly.

Jian Ruochen's eyes were flooded with white light, and soon his vision doubled.

He didn't look away, holding his gaze on one point as he spoke firmly, "The killer isn't necessarily A Ji."

What?

As his words landed, the entire scene fell silent.

Zhang Xingzong felt his breath catch. "If the killer turns out to be Chen Ji, Jian Ruochen will face intense public backlash..."

Guan Yingjun said, "I have a way to protect him."

Zhang Xingzong: "Got any ideas?"

Why didn't you bring this up earlier when the West Kowloon District was being criticized so harshly?

Guan Yingjun said in a flat tone, "Just say I told him to say it."

Zhang Xingzong: ...

Okay, okay.

Then the one taking the heat from the public would be Detective Guan.

Not a bad plan.

Jian Ruochen was experiencing a bout of temporary blindness.

But the reporters thought his gaze was intense and intimidating, making it hard to look him in the eye.

Jian Ruochen said, "The perpetrator is shorter and stocky, around 175 cm tall and weighing around 170 pounds."

A reporter interrupted, "Doesn't that match Boss A Ji exactly?"

"No," Jian Ruochen shot a glance toward the voice.

The reporter flinched.

Jian Ruochen: "We have witness statements indicating that about a year and a half ago, A Ji's Steamed Rice Restaurant closed for a period. When A Ji returned, he had gained significant weight, became less talkative, and started wearing hats and masks to hide his appearance. I suspect the real A Ji was replaced by someone else a year and a half ago."

"As for the real A Ji, his whereabouts remain unknown."

He suspected that the heavier man had killed A Ji and taken his place as owner of A Ji's Steamed Rice Restaurant.

This would explain why there were only one person’s footprints in the kitchen, yet the cleaver had signs of two people using it.

Moreover, individuals with Asperger's syndrome who exhibit hoarding tendencies often keep the weapon from their first murder as a memento.

That cleaver was likely the weapon used to kill A Ji.

The reporters got chills.

Two bystanders nearby threw up.

"About a year ago, the food at A Ji's restaurant was especially oily for a while—ugh—"

"You don't think it was... A Ji's own...?"

"Yeah, A Ji was always overweight, but never this heavy."

Jian Ruochen spoke into the microphone, "We're advising residents to be cautious of stocky men around 175 cm tall. He may try to conceal his whereabouts by revealing his face openly, without a mask or hat, to throw off the police description."

"That’s all I have to say."

He stood there, not moving, after finishing.

Guan Yingjun immediately realized Jian Ruochen couldn’t see well and quickly stepped forward, put a hand on his shoulder. He waved and said, "Everyone can go back and write your news reports now."

The reporters had their story and quickly dispersed.

Guan Yingjun held Jian Ruochen’s rather slim shoulder, his fingers tightening slowly. Only after the reporters had all left did he say, "I was wrong before."

Jian Ruochen closed his eyes to collect himself. "You weren’t wrong."

It’s normal for police to be suspicious.

But do it enough, and anyone would get fed up.

Once the matters with the Lu and Jiang families are resolved, he could easily use the Police Headquarters as a stepping stone to transfer to the Police Force.

Guan Yingjun’s throat tightened. "I’m sorry."

As the end of January approached, the weather in Hong Kong was starting to warm up.

Jian Ruochen stood in the wind, let out a short laugh, and turned his head toward him. "Sorry, I was wrong, it’s my fault. And then you just hide your suspicions and pull the same thing next time?"

Guan Yingjun said, "Not this time... I know what I did wrong."

Jian Ruochen arched an eyebrow, surprised.

This guy actually understands where he went wrong?

"Where?"

Guan Yingjun said, "I shouldn’t have taken you to the Tai Sheung Tok Quarry without asking you first."

He let go of Jian Ruochen and stood side by side with him, looking into the distance. "I shouldn’t have taken you to see Teacher Li in the middle of the night. Teacher Li is my uncle and your teacher—there's a boundary there. It was inappropriate."

Jian Ruochen: ...

He actually understands?

Did Teacher Li teach him?

He blinked, a mischievous impulse struck him. "What else?"

If he kept asking, was Guan Yingjun just going to make something up?

Guan Yingjun actually did make something up. "I shouldn’t have, while holding your hand..."

He had never said anything that forward before, and he mumbled, his voice fading.

Hours later, he finally understood what Jian Ruochen meant when he said, "You’re something alright."

Jian Ruochen’s ears burned red.

He suddenly remembered the heat of Guan Yingjun’s hand and turned away uncomfortably.

Guan Yingjun finished, repeating calmly, "I was disrespectful. I apologize."

Jian Ruochen deflected, changing the subject. "Give me the eye drops."

Guan Yingjun slowly handed them over.

Jian Ruochen tilted his head back and put the drops in quickly, then tucked the bottle into his pocket. "I drank too much orange juice. I’m going to the public restroom over there."

"Okay," Guan Yingjun responded.

So his apology didn't land...

He turned and walked toward Zhang Xingzong, joining the team to inspect the scene and go over the case details.

A moment later, Sizheng Liu came rushing over, flustered.

Sizheng Liu, drenched in sweat, his face full of terror. "Detective Guan, the crime scene was empty just now. The hidden door behind the kitchen partition was open, and inside were rows of hammers!"

Sizheng Liu swallowed hard, his voice trembling with fear. "The hammers were held in place by storage clips on the wall, and the leftmost clip was empty. It seems one long hammer is missing."

Forensics had not discovered the hidden door in the kitchen earlier.

That must've been known only to the killer.

The killer is nearby!

Guan Yingjun's breath caught, his throat tightening. He checked his watch.

Ten minutes had passed.

"Why hasn't Jian Ruochen come back still?"