Chapter 46: Guan Yingjun’s Roller Coaster

Chapter 46 Guan Yingjun's Interrogation Ride

Time was tight, and the entire Group A sprang into action.

Everyone unanimously placed their field interview reports in front of Jian Ruochen, who was destined to lead the interrogation.

A4 papers soon formed a small stack.

The office was filled with the sound of frantic footsteps.

Guan Yingjun, with a stern expression, issued instructions methodically: "Ding Gao, Song Xuyi, you two go bring in the suspect to the interrogation room."

"Bi Wanwan, Zhang Xingzong, go to the personnel department downstairs to check on the officers who were on booth duty yesterday. Here’s the list just sent up—only two suspects. Investigate their whereabouts."

"Sizheng Liu, take the remaining three and split up to conduct interviews. Map out the social connections of these two patrol officers and get me a connection map within half an hour."

"Sergeant Bi Wanwan, if you locate the two patrol officers, no need to report—subdue them immediately and bring them back to Group A!"

Bi Wanwan snapped to attention: "Yes, sir!" She loved the atmosphere in Group A.

Other groups might seem harmonious on the surface, but they never let female officers take charge. Those goddamn incompetent men, unable to compete themselves, would bullshit about homemaking to lecture women.

In Group A, whoever had the toughness and skill was the boss.

Everyone dispersed in the blink of an eye after receiving their orders.

By the time Jian Ruochen scanned everyone’s field interview reports, A Ji had already been marched into the interrogation room by Ding Gao and Song Xuyi.

The killer was too fat to fit into the interrogation chair, so they had to use the interrogation table.

The long metal table was unlocked, and Guan Yingjun pulled out a long chain with shackles from the gap, clamping the cuffs to A Ji’s wrists.

The interrogation table was three meters long and two meters wide.

When Jian Ruochen sat facing A Ji, he could clearly see the folds on his face.

This close quarters was a challenge for both the interrogator and the interrogated.

After securing A Ji, Guan Yingjun dragged over a chair next to Jian Ruochen and sat down, picking up the interrogation form and a pen.

Outside the interrogation room.

Cops from other units who had come to observe were wide-eyed with shock.

Was Detective Guan preparing to act as Jian Ruochen’s recorder?

Detective Guan was willing to do desk work?

"Before, it was always Guan Yingjun interrogating and Zhang Xingzong recording…"

Someone nearby shuddered. "When Guan Yingjun interrogates, Zhang Xingzong can't keep up with what to document. The scene is just too violent."

Everyone held their notebooks, clustered together, whispering, exchanging knowing glances when they spotted acquaintances.

You here to learn too?

Hey, me too.

It’s hard to snag such an excellent Consultant, but surely we can sneak in some learning, right?

An undercover observer from Group C whispered, "The suspect this time is said to have killed 16 people. I feel like he isn’t afraid of the police and won’t be as easy to interrogate as the previous suspects…"

A Group B representative looked puzzled. "The forensics team hasn’t even released the autopsy results yet. I feel like this case has no solid leads at all."

"Interrogation is impressive, but solving cases mainly relies on clues… Ah, Group A might have hit a dead end this time…" The speaker’s tone was full of regret.

As police officers, they wanted to see Jian Ruochen crush the interrogation and send the killer to court early.

But as Guan Yingjun’s colleagues, they didn’t want him to have too many achievements or promotions too quickly.

The yearly promotion quotas were limited.

If Guan Yingjun got promoted, they’d have no chance.

Who doesn’t want a promotion? One promotion doubles the salary!

Ah, human nature is so complicated—always wanting to get the best of both worlds.

"If only Jian Ruochen were in our group."

Then they could get the best of both worlds.

"Shh—quiet, it’s starting."

Everyone immediately went quiet.

Inside the interrogation room.

Jian Ruochen said calmly, "What’s your name?"

"Chen Ji."

Scritch, scratch, scratch.

The sound of pen scratches against paper echoed inside and outside the interrogation room.

Everyone held their breath, not wanting to miss a single word Jian Ruochen said.

Based on their experience watching tapes, every move, every word from this young Consultant was meaningful!

Jian Ruochen said, "I asked for your real name."

"I am A Ji." The killer lifted his head, staring at Jian Ruochen, his breathing growing heavier, like a fire bellows starting up.

He let out a hoarse laugh, revealing a mouthful of jagged, yellow-black teeth, and said with a leer, "So pretty… You must be even more tender to chew than them."

The killer licked his upper lip, his rasping laugh growing louder. "I’ll hang you from the ceiling and eat your motherfucking—"

Bang!

Before he could finish, Guan Yingjun stood up and swung the case binder, as thick as a half-dollar coin, smacking it hard across the killer’s face.

The binder's thick spine broke from the impact.

The killer’s head jerked to the side, couldn't lift his head for a while. When he opened his mouth, a decayed yellow-black tooth fell out.

The fat man stared at the tooth for a moment, let out a short laugh, and worked his jaw, actually swallowing all the blood in his mouth.

Jian Ruochen was taken aback. To be honest, getting cursed out by suspects during interrogations was common.

Considering the pace of the interrogation, no matter how furious he was, he had to hold it in.

He hadn't expected Guan Yingjun to intervene.

Outside the interrogation room, the note-takers were also floored, their pens halting simultaneously.

A police officer from Team C, who was there to learn, yanked the video recorder's power plug from the wall and feigned scratching his head, saying, "Oh, this plug is so loose."

Everyone chimed in, "It's probably faulty!"

"What now? The recording from the beginning of the interrogation didn't save; it's lost for sure! Damn, what a pity."

Ding Gao, who had been watching from outside after escorting the fat man back, cut in, "Tsk, this suspect is so careless, smacking his head against the interrogation table like that. Idiot."

With that one sentence, he instantly provided an explanation for the suspect's facial injury.

Song Xuyi snapped back to reality and stammered, "M-maybe his head's just too damn heavy, he actually knocked his teeth out!"

They absolutely couldn't let Detective Guan get docked pay for roughing up a suspect!

The officer from Team C crouched down, plugged the video recorder back in, and rebooted the external system while fiddling with it, saying, "Whoops, my bad."

Once the power was reconnected outside, the video recorder in the interrogation room beeped.

Jian Ruochen finally snapped out of it.

He glanced sideways at Guan Yingjun.

Detective Guan didn't bat an eye. He discarded the tattered case record book and the broken pen, tossing them aside.

He sat with his arms crossed, his dark eyes intense, and warned coldly, "Cooperate."

Jian Ruochen pursed his lips, his gaze returning to the suspect's face as details from the files he had reviewed minutes earlier flashed through his mind.

His tone was calm, but his words came quickly, "Over a year ago, Chen Ji suddenly closed his shop for half a year. Where did you go at that time?"

The fat man hadn't expected Jian Ruochen to ask this.

This drove a wedge between him and the identity of Chen Ji.

"I went back home," he said, closing his eyes slightly. As long as he didn't admit it, no one could do anything to him.

As long as he remained Chen Ji, it would be Chen Ji who was sentenced to death in court.

Once someone from the outside sprang him, he could lay low for a while and then resurface using his real identity.

Jian Ruochen: "Then where did Chen Ji go?"

The fat man clenched his fists and slammed them on the interrogation table, "I am Chen Ji!"

"Liar," Jian Ruochen retorted lightly, shooting him a look.

The suspect shuddered, his beady eyes darting around nervously.

Had Jian Ruochen figured something out?

Impossible.

It had been so long since it happened!

He wasn't a smooth talker and didn't know how to respond, so he could only stick to his script.

Jian Ruochen pulled a sheet of paper from the interview records beside him and held it up, saying, "If you are Chen Ji, then you must know that across from A Ji Steamed Rice Shop, there used to be a similar pre-made bento shop. But that shop later closed down. Do you know why?"

The fat man slowly raised his head, glaring fiercely at Jian Ruochen.

Jian Ruochen said, "Because Chen Ji spread rumors everywhere that the owner of that shop had been to prison, so he couldn't keep it open."

The fat man let out a breath, the hatred in his eyes almost palpable, as if he wanted to tear him apart.

Guan Yingjun frowned, his fingers twitching slightly. Jian Ruochen immediately nudged his thigh with his left leg.

Guan Yingjun froze instantly, as if under a spell.

Jian Ruochen glanced at him.

Still want to hit him?

In early 1993, Hong Kong had not yet fully banned coercive interrogation. It wasn't until 1998, a year after the handover, that the "Procedural Rules for Public Security Organs Handling Criminal Cases" were revised.

But that didn't mean Hong Kong police could openly beat suspects before 1998.

The Criminal Intelligence Bureau had a special nature, so management in this area was relatively lax.

But the CID had to be scrutinized by the public and couldn't act like this.

While using his actions to warn Guan Yingjun, Jian Ruochen met the fat man's malicious gaze head-on and mockingly recited an old woman's words from the interview record:

"Oh dear, there used to be a fast-food shop across from A Ji Steamed Rice Shop, but it was too expensive. And I heard from A Ji that the owner had been to prison, so none of us dared to buy from there."

Jian Ruochen slowly curled into a smile, mimicking the tone perfectly: "What was that shop called again... Oh, right, Lao Ba Roast Meat Rice. Since no one bought from there, it eventually had no business and closed down. We don't know where the owner went."

A chilling breeze seemed to blow through the dark interrogation room, making everyone shiver.

The fat man seemed frozen, not moving a muscle.

Jian Ruochen glanced at his wristwatch. Five minutes had passed.

The afternoon edition of the newspaper would be released at 3 p.m., for people to read while having afternoon tea.

Lu Qian would probably see the newspaper around the same time as the West Kowloon team.

Lu Qian should be making a decision now.

Emptying the factory would take a lot of time. Even with everyone working together, it would take about an hour and a half.

If the factory was in West Kowloon, it would take the police about 40 minutes to get there.

Doing the math, he had to get the factory address within 50 minutes.

Now, there were 45 minutes left.

Jian Ruochen felt as if a second hand was ticking in his mind.

Originally, he hadn't been very confident.

After all, this commercial street had a constant flow of people, and many shops had changed in recent years.

The accessory shop on the east side had been replaced by a fried tofu shop.

The Lao Ba Roast Meat over Rice across from A Ji's Steamed Rice Shop has also turned into a photo studio.

Finding out who killed A Ji and replaced him is a difficult task.

But after reviewing so many interview records, only this relocated Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice and A Ji's Steamed Rice Shop offered similar products and had a competitive relationship.

Generally, competition involves interests and can fully constitute a motive for murder.

Based on the interview statements, A Ji's only enemy was the owner of Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice.

Moreover, the closing time of Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice and the closing of A Ji's Steamed Rice Shop happening so close together is truly suspicious.

Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice closed down over a year ago. One month after it shut down, A Ji's Steamed Rice Shop also closed, only to reopen six months later with a focus on extra-portion roast meat over rice.

In Hong Kong, steamed rice and roast meat over rice are not the same thing.

Roast meat over rice involves placing roasted meat on steamed rice and drizzling sauce over it.

Steamed rice, on the other hand, is made by steaming meat and rice simmered together, offering a variety of sweet and savory flavors.

The two dishes are fundamentally different in preparation.

No business owner would tarnish their brand by selling roast meat over rice under the name of steamed rice.

Unless they simply don’t know how to make savory-sweet steamed rice.

Judging by the fat man’s reaction, his connection to Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice is practically undeniable.

The logic checks out, and the suspect’s reaction confirms it.

Jian Ruochen smirked, looked up at the fat man, and murmured, "Where did the owner of Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice go? Did he become A Ji?"

The fat man raised his hand and yanked back hard, causing the chains fastened to the table to emit a grating, loud clatter.

His expression was frenzied, the fat on his face trembling uncontrollably. "I am A Ji! I have ID!"

"Really? The photo on the ID is so blurry, what can you even make out?" Jian Ruochen dismissed his defense and pulled out another photo.

This time, it was a photo of a cleaver.

Jian Ruochen: "If you really are A Ji, how do you explain these two notches in completely different positions on this cleaver?"

"The notch on the front edge is old, likely from A Ji’s use. The notch on the back edge is new, probably from your habit of using the cleaver."

As he spoke, Jian Ruochen leaned back slightly, crossing his left leg over his right casually. "Professional chefs, when using a Chinese cleaver, mostly use the front part of the blade. It’s normal for notches to appear there."

"But your way of using the cleaver is wrong. Your real job isn’t being a chef."

Outside the interrogation room.

The quick-witted guy from Team C who had tripped over the wire was stunned.

He picked up a ruler and quickly mimicked a chef’s chopping motion, realizing that not only professional chefs but even ordinary people rarely use the back part of a cleaver when cutting.

Because the front part requires less effort!

A new angle to crack the case had never crossed his mind!

The breakthrough in this case was actually a cleaver?

Jian Ruochen actually used a cleaver to determine that A Ji wasn’t A Ji.

Then, from an elderly woman’s interview statement, he noticed that competition might be the motive.

Based on that possibility, he considered the suspiciously close timing of the two shops’ closures.

Finally, he even thought about the types and flavors of the dishes, deducing that the chef at A Ji's Steamed Rice might have been replaced by Lao Ba.

Huh?

Only seven minutes had passed, right? Not even ten!

And we already have the suspect’s identity?

The quick-witted guy turned to his colleague and asked, "Did you learn anything?"

The colleague replied, "...It’s quite difficult."

The difficulty lies in the fact that most people wouldn’t think of this angle.

"But Lao Ba's Roast Meat over Rice has been gone for so long. How will Jian Ruochen find the owner’s identity and confirm it’s the fat man?"

The quick-witted guy pondered, "Tsk, the suspect probably knows this too, which is why he’s so confident."

The murderer leaned on the interrogation table, every ounce of his flabby face radiating indifference. "No matter who I was before, it doesn’t change the fact that I am Chen Ji now. People change. I gained weight, so it’s normal to look a bit different from my ID photo."

"Ha!" Jian Ruochen let out a short laugh and suddenly turned to Guan Yingjun. "Detective Guan, call the Hong Kong Inland Revenue Department and request the tax records and taxpayer ID records from a year ago for Shop 88, First Floor, Central District Three Commercial Street."

Guan Yingjun paused briefly. "Right."

His heart was racing, rationality and emotion surging simultaneously. Even though Jian Ruochen was just using his brain and words, he seemed incredibly captivating.

Jian Ruochen waved his hand and tossed the crime scene photos in front of the fat man. "Businesses on commercial streets need to pay taxes and obtain permits. Did you forget?"

The fat man’s face instantly changed.

His eyes were so murderous it seemed he wanted to tear the person in front of him to shreds.

Jian Ruochen chuckled softly. "You have tax certificates, cooked food permits, tax registration certificates, business registration certificates. As long as we have the shop name, we can easily find your real name and photo."

He finished slowly, then suddenly lowered his voice. "Speak! Where did you get those food containers? Does the person who gave them to you know what you used them for?"

The fat man’s flabby face twitched.

Food containers?

Why was Jian Ruochen asking about food containers?

***

"What do food containers have to do with the murder?"

"...No idea."

"Using tax records to identify someone... I never would have thought of that."

Someone was stunned silent, their pen hovering over the notebook without writing, forming a blot of ink. "What kind of mind is this? Such free-thinking. I want it too."

He forcefully wrote the word "tax" in large letters on the first page of his workbook.

"Having a brain like that alone isn't enough," whispered the quick-witted one from Team C. "Even if you call the Tax Bureau, they might not answer. The guy in there paid 500 million in taxes last month."

He’s practically the Tax Bureau’s top VIP.

Even taking a step back, Detective Guan seems to have an uncle who’s the Commissioner of the Police Force. Calls from those two carry a completely different weight than ones made by us.

An officer trainee from Team B said dazedly, "Can this interrogation technique really be widely applied? I feel like I can’t learn it."

It’s so disheartening. He has neither money nor a sharp mind, and he can’t even follow the technique.

Just thinking about it makes him feel like crying.

Ding Gao and Song Xuyi, hearing colleagues from other teams praise Jian Ruochen, actually felt a sense of pride by association.

Looking back, remembering how they had once doubted Jian Ruochen, the past felt like mist—something impossible to hold onto.

Inside the interrogation room, Guan Yingjun sat across from the fat man and finished his call to the Tax Bureau.

Five minutes later, Team A’s office received a fax.

Guan Yingjun went to retrieve the fax, glanced at the name on it—Chen Ba.

He said to Ding Gao, "Check if this name has any prior criminal records. Didn’t Chen Ji say he’d done time?"

Ding Gao stood at attention: "Yes, sir!"

Guan Yingjun returned to the interrogation room. Jian Ruochen had also gotten the fax.

He scanned the photo and name on it. "Chen Ba? Detective Guan, does he have a criminal record?"

Guan Yingjun said, "I told Ding Gao to check. It’ll be here soon."

Jian Ruochen’s eyebrow twitched.

Ever since their first meeting, Guan Yingjun had always been on the same page as him.

His gaze returned to Chen Ba. "Chen Ba, I’ll ask one more time—where did the lunchboxes come from?"

Chen Ba clenched his jaw tightly, lowered his head, and stiffened like a board—unable to speak, almost as if he’d stopped breathing.

He couldn’t understand it. He’d barely said a word, so how did Jian Ruochen, like some mind reader, quickly uncover his real name?

Even more baffling was why Jian Ruochen had focused on the lunchboxes.

If Lu Qian found out he’d secretly sneaked out those lunchboxes, not only would he not bail him out—he might even have him whacked.

Jian Ruochen studied Chen Ba’s face carefully. "Your eyelids are raised and tense, your eyebrows are lifted and furrowed, your lips quivered as they parted."

"You’re afraid."

"Chen Ba, what are you so afraid of?"

Chen Ba grew even more terrified.

The person in front of him was seriously creepy.

He refused to believe anyone could read someone’s thoughts from a fleeting expression.

His intuition told him Jian Ruochen must be some kind of dark spirit a master raised for the West Kowloon Station.

Only a ghost could know what was in a person’s heart.

Jian Ruochen lowered his gaze in thought. In his line of sight, the second hand on his wristwatch made a full sweep.

Chen Ba hadn’t been afraid of the interrogation earlier because his real name hadn’t been exposed.

He wasn’t afraid as long as his real name stayed hidden because, once the court’s verdict was delivered, there was a chance he could be bailed out.

There had been cases like that in the past—people who walked scot-free because their names didn’t match.

Some even used connections to escape punishment, changed their name, and lived freely afterward.

If Chen Ba’s connections were strong enough, he shouldn’t be this afraid even after his real name was exposed.

Unless what he feared wasn’t the sentence, nor the lack of someone to bail him out.

But rather, offending someone.

He wasn’t afraid before—only after the lunchboxes were mentioned.

Who Chen Ba was afraid of was now glaringly obvious.

Jian Ruochen said softly, "If Lu Qian finds out you let slip the origin of those lunchboxes, he will definitely kill you. So that’s it—that’s what you’re afraid of."

Once you know what a suspect fears, interrogation becomes much easier.

Use their fear, press that advantage.

Jian Ruochen said, "What’s the point of holding back about the lunchboxes? Lu Qian won’t thank you for it. Chen Ba, you know Jiang Yongyan, right?"

Chen Ba jerked his head up.

How could he not know?

Jiang Yongyan had always been the one who did the dirtiest jobs for the Jiang family.

The lead fixer who brought Lu Qian the most profit.

Through Jiang Yongyan, Lu Qian had connected with many business tycoons.

Jian Ruochen looked surprised, as if genuinely shocked. "You really think Jiang Mingshan could’ve killed Jiang Yongyan all by himself? The Jiang family is just a Hong Kong business family. They have money, but no gang ties. And Jiang Yongyan was gunned down in a detention center."

He emphasized the words "detention center," pausing between each word: "Detention center. You’ll end up there too. For Lu Qian to have you killed would be child's play."

Chen Ba trembled in terror. "No, no, he wouldn’t."

"Whether he would or not, you know deep down."

Jian Ruochen chuckled. "If you don’t talk, you’ll end up just like Jiang Yongyan. Detention center security's pretty loose. It wouldn’t be impossible for Lu Qian to hire someone to shoot you dead."

"If I talk, I’ll die too!" Chen Ba screamed desperately, his voice tearing. "If I talk, I’ll still die! What’s the difference? Just execute me now! Kill me, kill me right now!"

Jian Ruochen leaned back slightly, avoiding the flecks of spit, and said half-seriously, "How is that the same? You should know—although Hong Kong has the death penalty, executions take ages. Who knows, it might even be delayed until it’s never carried out."

"Jiang Mingshan still hasn’t been executed, has he? The verdict came down a month ago."

"I'm already tired of waiting."

At that thought, Chen Ba’s resolve wavered.

Yes, the death penalty in Hong Kong is pretty much just on paper.

After he confessed to the crime, he was transferred to the court holding cell. As long as he could make it through sentencing, he would be safe in prison, as there were none of Lu Qian’s guys there.

As long as he wasn’t killed by Lu Qian, doing life in prison wouldn’t be half bad.

Jian Ruochen knew that look all too well; he had seen it many times before. "I’ll give you one more chance. If you don’t want to talk, forget it."

"Where did the lunchbox come from?"

Chen Ba was breathing ragged, his mouth opening and closing, closing and opening again. After several struggles, he finally spoke with great difficulty, "From San Tsi Village behind the Tai Shek Tok Quarry in Sham Shui Po, West Kowloon..."

Chen Ba suddenly deflated, slumped like a sack of meat.

He had no choice.

Betraying Lu Qian was his only chance of survival.

"North of San Tsi Village, there’s a stationery factory. On the surface, it’s a stationery factory, but it’s actually a lunchbox operation. I know the owner..."

He wanted to say more, but Jian Ruochen and Guan Yingjun weren’t listening anymore.

They could grill him later.

If the people at the factory escaped, how would they follow the leads to find the drug production site?

Move, move, move!

Guan Yingjun stood up and rushed out of the interrogation room, shouting to the stunned team members, "Teams A, B, and C, assemble for deployment! One minute to suit up and roll out, hurry!"

This was a factory linked to Lu Qian’s drug production site—something the entire West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit had been keeping an eye on!

The quick-thinking rookie tossed aside his record book and turned to run. "Heavens, Fortune’s smiling on me!"

Jian Ruochen glanced at the time—only half an hour had passed, a full half-hour ahead of schedule.

He hoped Lu Qian’s people wouldn’t act too quickly.

Please, don’t let it be a ghost town by the time they arrived.

Jian Ruochen followed Guan Yingjun downstairs but quickly fell behind after just a few steps.

Guan Yingjun immediately turned back, hoisted Jian Ruochen up, and leaped down the stairs, covering half a flight in a single bound.

Jian Ruochen felt like he was on a roller coaster drop but wasn’t about to ask Guan Yingjun to slow down during such a critical moment. He could only cling tightly to Guan Yingjun’s neck to avoid falling.

Guan Yingjun swallowed dryly and said softly, "You really should start exercising. How about I pick you up tomorrow morning?"

As much as he wanted to keep holding Jian Ruochen, being a police officer required good shape above all else.