Chapter 76: Leaning On

"Okay. Thank you, Detective Li." Jian Ruochen hung up the phone.

When he signed the HK$5.9 billion development contract with Li Maoming, he never anticipated this day.

He hadn't imagined that even across eras, he would still be cared for by his homeland.

Jian Ruochen bent down to pick up the lunchbox, took a couple of quick bites, then closed the lid. "Teacher Li, I'll head out now and finish eating when I get back."

"Go ahead." Li Zhangyu turned to look at Guan Yingjun. "If you can't handle it, give me a call."

"Mm." Guan Yingjun reached out and gripped Jian Ruochen’s shoulder.

The heavy, warm pressure spread from his shoulder throughout his entire body. Jian Ruochen slowly exhaled. "Let's go."

The dormitory area wasn't far from the faculty offices—a ten-minute run at most.

Jian Ruochen clipped on his newly issued work badge, composed himself outside the iron door to the rooftop, and grasped the round metal handle.

With a slight turn of his wrist, the door opened.

Light flooded through the widening gap into his eyes.

Reporters immediately crowded in, their cameras clicking and microphones thrust forward, and a cacophony of voices rose around him.

"Mr. Jian, what are your thoughts on this case?"

"We've heard the deceased was also a student who wanted to transfer under Teacher Li. Do you have anything to say about that?"

"Mr. Jian, the West Kowloon Regional Police Station pursued Lu Qian relentlessly, triggering a plunge in the Lu family’s stocks. Countless investors lost everything, and three people even leapt to their deaths because of it. Should the West Kowloon Regional Police Station be held responsible for these three lives?"

"Mr. Jian, do you feel wary of rivals of the same caliber? Why isn't Teacher Li here with you?"

Jian Ruochen swept his gaze over the crowd. "Please tune into the West Kowloon Regional Police Station’s Public Relations Section for details on the case via their press conference. Everyone, please do not interfere with the investigation. Please respect the investigation’s priorities."

The man who usually carried a smile now wore a stern expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. Though young, he exuded a hardened authority that commanded respect and deterred further questioning.

Not to mention the sharp-eyed, notoriously stern Senior Inspector standing behind him.

The reporters fell silent for a moment before gradually parting to make way.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Jian Ruochen quickly moved to the crime scene tape.

Guan Yingjun lifted the tape. "You go ahead. I’ll sweep the perimeter. Forensics sometimes miss clues."

"Okay."

Jian Ruochen ducked under the tape.

The scene was quiet. To prevent leaks, Forensics and officers spoke in hushed tones.

Xiang Jingrong approached. "Detective Guan went to check the surroundings again? We’ve already found the key evidence."

Jian Ruochen looked up. "Can’t you tell me?"

"It’s not that." Xiang Jingrong said, "No one at the West Kowloon Regional Police Station is a fool. With everything happening at once, it’s obvious what’s going on. But Guan sir… he’s a bit paranoid. If he gives you a hard time, why not join Forensics with me?"

Jian Ruochen: "…"

He sounded so sincere.

He couldn’t tell if Xiang sir was comforting him or poaching him.

Guan Yingjun stepped forward, his tone warning. "Xiang Jingrong."

Xiang Jingrong fell silent and handed over the preliminary forensics report. "Everything’s here."

He then passed the evidence bag containing the key evidence to Jian Ruochen. "Key evidence."

Inside the evidence bag was a check.

The payee was named Qin Jiayang.

The issuing bank was Qidong Bank.

Xiang Jingrong explained quietly while Guan Yingjun reviewed the report, "Qidong Bank entered Hong Kong in 1841. It’s a British Hong Kong entity. The check amount is too large—whoever held it must have ties to British Hong Kong. But aside from this, there’s no solid evidence yet linking Qin Jiayang to the murder."

Xiang Jingrong pressed his lips together and added, "The deceased is named Lin Ziming, not the payee on the check."

"The check was folded into a small square and hidden in the victim’s mouth. Only the top left corner, where the payee’s name is written, was sharply creased."

A distinct crease was visible on the check’s top left corner.

From the impression, it seemed Lin Ziming had even dug his nail into it.

Jian Ruochen returned the evidence bag. "Is this a dying message from the victim?"

"Generally, yes."

Xiang Jingrong glanced toward the water tank on the rooftop. "Lin Ziming drowned. Hong Kong University’s water tank is refilled at 7:30 a.m.—the pump doesn’t start before then. After a night of use, the water level is low, so Lin Ziming wasn’t at immediate risk until the pump activated. He had enough time to fold the check and hide it in his mouth."

It’s chilling to imagine the desperation.

Jian Ruochen blinked his dry eyes.

Guan Yingjun finished reviewing the forensics report. "Leaving aside how the check got there—how could a drowning person keep it hidden in his mouth? When people choke on water, they reflexively open their mouths. The check should have been dislodged by coughing or water flow."

Xiang Jingrong shrugged. "Guan sir, adrenaline surges before death. It’s not strange for someone to accomplish anything through sheer willpower."

Guan Yingjun surveyed the scene. "Who found the body?"

"The rooftop cleaner." Bi Wanwan approached, speaking rapidly. "I asked. The cleaner services the dorm rooftop water tank every day at noon. The killer likely timed the discovery. Three hours ago, the cleaner was cleaning an unused lecture hall—no alibi."

Guan Yingjun asked, "Who was the last to see Lin Ziming at Hong Kong University? And when?"

Bi Wanwan: "Zhang Xingzong and Sizheng Liu are on it."

As soon as she finished speaking, the rooftop door burst open.

The reporters gathered at the entrance instinctively backed away, holding their cameras, not daring to make a sound.

Zhang Xingzong rushed over, out of breath. "We asked Lin Ziming’s roommate. He returned to the dorm last night and left with Qin Jiayang at 6:30 this morning to go jogging. No one saw him after that."

Sizheng Liu, following behind Zhang Xingzong, paused, then offered an evidence bag. "While searching Lin Ziming’s belongings, I found a letter. I opened it to review it—it’s addressed to Jian Ruochen…"

Jian Ruochen took it.

Lin Ziming's handwriting was very elegant.

"Dear Mr. Jian,

Hope you're doing well.

Thank you so much for the book list and the phone number.

During spring break, I finished reading the books on the list you provided. After the New Year, I answered Teacher Li's question at a public lecture and made a good impression on him.

Later, I visited Teacher Li and attended several one-on-one lessons, developing a strong interest in criminal psychology.

Teacher Li told me about a few cases you handled. I heard you also perform magic tricks and can swipe things from a Senior Inspector's pocket without anyone noticing. That's really cool. I've learned a few tricks myself and hope to discuss the principles of magic with you in the future.

Looking forward to becoming your fellow student..."

Jian Ruochen blinked hard.

The death message left by Lin Ziming was actually something taken from the killer.

"Has Qin Jiayang been found?" Jian Ruochen's voice trembled slightly.

"No," Sizheng Liu said solemnly. "Qin Jiayang is Lin Ziming's roommate. He wasn't in the dorm when we went, and his phone's off. I suspect he fled the scene."

Guan Yingjun said, "Put out a warrant immediately. Bi Wanwan, get Qin Jiayang's home address from the counselor. The rest of you, go over the crime scene again to ensure no information is missed, then tape it off."

Most university student perps are first-time offenders, and their methods aren't as polished as other cases handled by the Major Crimes Unit.

If it weren't for the crime scene's proximity to headquarters and the timely emergence of the case, such a case wouldn't even be assigned to the Major Crimes Unit.

Guan Yingjun looked at Zhang Xingzong. "Go, discuss the press conference timing with the reporters, then notify the Public Relations Section."

Jian Ruochen was somewhat spaced out.

Suddenly, the reporters and cameramen at the rooftop entrance started getting antsy.

The next moment, Jian Ruochen's phone rang.

He answered, "Hello?"

Li Maoming's voice came through the receiver. "We've got it figured out. We found the medical records of the three jumpers. All three had been examined at Hong Kong International Hospital and had terminal illnesses. They didn't have long to live anyway, so they wanted to leave money for their families and end it all."

"..." Jian Ruochen glanced at his wristwatch.

Half an hour.

The people sent here by the mainland really know what they're doing.

Li Maoming asked, "How about your side?"

Jian Ruochen said, "We have a suspect, but we lack direct evidence. We'll need interrogation assistance after picking him up. We're preparing to issue a warrant now."

"Interrogation, that's your specialty," Li Maoming chuckled. "We're releasing news about a press conference here, planning to announce that you've signed a development deal. Are you willing?"

Once announced, it would mean completely burning bridges with British Hong Kong.

Jian Ruochen thought of Lin Ziming. "Announce it."

After all, the British Hong Kong government has no shame to begin with.

Li Maoming praised, "Good! That's bold!"

His tone softened. "I'll call all the reporters away from your location. Take this time to rest and eat something. Your health is most important."

"Okay. Thank you, Officer Li." Jian Ruochen hung up. The reporters gathered at the rooftop entrance had already got the hint and disappeared.

The Major Crimes Unit bagged the evidence from the scene, taped it off, and began preparing for the press conference an hour and a half later.

By the time Jian Ruochen returned to Teacher Li's office, half an hour had passed.

He had little appetite and looked at the big old CRT TV mounted in the ceiling bracket.

On the screen was the face of a pissed-off citizen.

An elderly man spat toward the camera, "You media folks have no shame! The police haven't even announced the results, and you're already writing nonsense. I think only STN in Hong Kong media tells the truth and has some credibility!"

"I used to live in the Kowloon Walled City, sleeping in a three-square-meter cage! Mr. Jian helped us clear out the black gangs, and the ICAC organized our relocation to public housing. That's how we got actual homes to live in."

"British Hong Kong? They only care about money and profit, they're the worst! Mr. Jian is a good man!"

The elderly man angrily shouted, "Nonsense! Get lost!"

Jian Ruochen: "..."

Huh? They're not cursing me?

He hesitantly changed the channel.

Chai Jinwu's face appeared on the screen, with the sign of Hong Kong University Medical School in the background.

Jian Ruochen knew Chai Jinwu might not have anything good to say, but he still stopped to watch.

Chai Jinwu frowned. "He looks down on suspects? Are you kidding? Jian Ruochen treats everyone equally. When I was suspected and hadn't cleared my name, he even brought me congee."

"If you break the law, you face trial. Isn't that normal? Lu Qian? Even if he were God himself, he should die for drug trafficking."

"What channel are you from? Stop blocking the entrance to the medical school. It's a pain. Do you know who my father is?"

Jian Ruochen: "..."

It's been over three months, and Chai Jinwu is still like this.

So damn earnest.

His nose felt a bit sour, and the corners of his mouth slowly curled into a slight smile. He toyed with the chopsticks in his mouth and changed the channel again.

The STN logo appeared on the screen.

Then came Luo Binwen, sitting in his study.

Jian Ruochen was stunned.

A slightly fuzzy audio came from the TV speaker.

"In light of the false rumors circulating today regarding Mr. Jian's mother and Mr. Jian's stance, we hereby provide clarification."

Luo Binwen wore his gold-rimmed glasses, his half-black, half-white hair meticulously combed. A stack of documents lay beside him. "The Connaught Family has invested over a hundred billion in Hong Kong, with projects starting from 1973, including International Financial Real Estate, Convenience Milk, subway lines, commercial centers, public media, and port development."

"These public service projects have already benefited the people. The currently available documents will be displayed on screen." Jian Ruochen just stared, stunned, at his mother's flamboyant signature.

The subway? They planned to build it as early as 1973?

Luo Binwen faced the camera, his once amiable smile completely gone. "Connaught has always remained neutral and well-intentioned, hoping to grow and move forward together with society. I hope people with ulterior motives get this: Connaught is low-key, not dead."

"Smack—"

A sharp snap echoed outside Li Zhangyu's office door.

"Who's there?" Guan Yingjun immediately stood up and walked to the door, only to find a broken pen on the ground outside.

Ink was spilled all over the floor.

Jiang Hanyu stood around the corner, gripping the plan handed to him by Lu Rong, shrinking back with his hands covering his mouth and nose, not daring to make a sound.

Why...

Everything was done according to the plan provided by the higher-ups.

Rumors, the suicide jump, spreading lies, using a murder case to pressure Jian Ruochen.

Why was the person who should have been widely condemned receiving so much support?

Could it be that even the slightest, almost imperceptible act of kindness could bring back so much in return?

Why would even Chai Jinwu speak up for Jian Ruochen?

Didn't he dislike Jian Ruochen?

Jiang Hanyu glanced at the instruction written on the plan: Test Li Zhangyu's attitude toward Jian Ruochen.

He pursed his lips, straightened up, and backed away slowly from the faculty building.

·

Guan Yingjun used a handkerchief to pick up the pen, placed it in an evidence bag, closed the office door tight, and returned to the sofa.

He looked down at the lunchbox on the coffee table.

He'd only taken one bite of the food.

Jian Ruochen went to change the channel again, but the remote was taken by Li Zhangyu.

Mr. Li patted the young man's shoulder. "Lin Ziming's death is not your fault. Quit blaming yourself. No one holds it against you, and you shouldn't either."

"Look, the people on TV are all those you've helped. Those small acts of kindness you once extended will come back to you like snowflakes piling up."

Jian Ruochen squeezed his eyes shut.

He turned and buried his face in Guan Yingjun's shoulder.

Closing his eyes, he let himself sink into that space that smelled like black tea and mint.

Whatever. Li Zhangyu sees everything.

He sees right through people.

There was no use hiding here; bottling it up hurts too much.

He rested his forehead against Guan Yingjun's shoulder and slowly let out a shaky breath.

Guan Yingjun wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer, and brushed his cheek, whispering, "Don't cry."

The touch was innocent, and the tenderness in his tone rang clear in Jian Ruochen's heart.

Jian Ruochen said softly, "I'm not crying."

He just found the world too absurd.

In 1993 Hong Kong, money ruled everything.

In their eyes, human lives could be treated as bargaining chips on a chessboard.

He knew he wasn't wrong.

But Lin Ziming's death made him realize what kind of force was entrenched in Hong Kong.

He wasn't ruthless enough, not edgy enough.

After leaning quietly for a while, Jian Ruochen said, "Let's eat. After we finish, we'll go back to the police station and get to work."