Chapter 93: Jiang Hanyu Feels Completely Defeated

Chapter 93: Jiang Hanyu Felt Utterly Defeated

Bi Wanwan: "Yes, Sir."

She turned and instructed, "Song Xuyi, Ding Gao, come with me."

Ding Gao cast a regretful glance at the interrogation room.

Sigh... fieldwork.

He really wanted to keep watching the interrogation.

Pouting, he donned a trench coat, swiftly secured his credentials, and followed Bi Wanwan and Song Xuyi, looking back three times as he departed.

Inside the interrogation room.

Jian Ruochen lowered his gaze, pondering for a few seconds before softly stating, "You just said, 'This codebook was placed in the single dormitory,' and then, 'The codebook might have been taken.' But I recall that Hong Kong University's single dormitories have strict access controls and decent security measures."

Jiang Hanyu, confused, asked, "So what?"

Jian Ruochen pursed his lips, "It implies your accomplice can bypass security and freely enter and exit the single dormitory building."

"Therefore, either he lives in the single dormitory himself, or he's a counselor or professor with authorized access to the dormitory building, or the dormitory security department is complicit from within."

Jian Ruochen's tone elongated, his pace slowed, as he meticulously observed Jiang Hanyu's facial expression.

When security was mentioned, Jiang Hanyu's eyes widened in terror, his pupils momentarily dilated, and his lips slightly parted. Jian Ruochen immediately understood the implication.

It was an expression of shock, fear, and resistance.

Jian Ruochen rested his chin on his hand, speaking nonchalantly, "It seems security is engaged in internal theft. Is the dormitory security guard your accomplice? Let me consider... A dormitory manager alone probably can't interfere with club matters; they can only relay messages. So, the person who approved the club must be higher up. They didn't meet with you directly, so they used the dormitory manager as an intermediary. Is that correct?"

A shiver ran down Jiang Hanyu's spine.

Despite it being spring, he felt an unprecedented cold.

A cold that made his teeth chatter.

He hadn't said a single word!

Not one!

He wasn't afraid of the repercussions of betraying his accomplice, but he was terrified of Jian Ruochen seeing through his innermost thoughts.

His mind was his last refuge.

If those sordid, selfish, unspeakable thoughts, hidden deep within his heart, were exposed...

Jiang Hanyu's lips turned ashen, and he shook his head frantically, "No... impossible. How could you know? Are you human or a ghost?"

Jian Ruochen: ?

He turned to Zhang Xingzong and said, "I'll get some hot water."

He needed to let Jiang Hanyu compose himself; driving him to madness wouldn't be productive.

Jian Ruochen exited the interrogation room and met a gaze.

Guan Yingjun lowered his eyes, meeting Jian Ruochen's.

He truly admired Jian Ruochen's interrogation style—confident and assertive.

Every action conveyed a distinct impression.

Especially his eyes—fierce and aggressive, a stark contrast to his usual smiling, gentle, and amiable demeanor.

It was somewhat akin to when he held someone's fate in his hands.

It was captivating.

Jian Ruochen met Guan Yingjun's gaze, feeling a slight flutter, and reflexively looked away.

He walked to the L-shaped desk in the outer room, retrieved three paper cups, picked up a squat, old-fashioned thermos, stacked them, and returned to the interrogation room door.

Liu Sizheng was still chuckling, "Good heavens... after just a few questions, Jiang Hanyu is so terrified he thinks you're not human."

Jian Ruochen didn't know whether to laugh or cry, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is a compliment!" Liu Sizheng leaned sideways, resting his elbow on Jian Ruochen's shoulder. "You're simply incredible. Hey, no offense, but do you really possess mind-reading abilities, using microexpressions as a cover, but actually discerning people's thoughts? Is that it?"

Jian Ruochen chuckled wryly, "Like those Taoist priests who preach scientific belief, then fly off on a sword?"

Liu Sizheng paused, then laughed even harder.

Oh my god, Jian Ruochen was absolutely delightful.

His way with words was truly engaging.

Liu Sizheng laughed so hard he swayed, leaning in closer.

Guan Yingjun stood behind them, his gaze cold and detached, fixed on Liu Sizheng's neck, his eyelids slightly lowered, half-closed.

The one-way glass faintly reflected three figures. Liu Sizheng caught a glimpse of Detective Guan's expression out of the corner of his eye and suddenly stiffened, standing ramrod straight.

Oh no.

The case was progressing too smoothly, and he'd forgotten Detective Guan disliked people being frivolous during investigations.

With such a stern expression, his career might be over!

Liu Sizheng swiftly withdrew his hand from Jian Ruochen's shoulder, stood at attention, and gestured toward the one-way glass with his chin, speaking guiltily, "I won't disturb your work."

"It's not a disturbance..." Jian Ruochen tilted his head, confused, then seemed to sense something and looked back.

Guan Yingjun wasn't standing behind them; he was by the side table with the thermos, pulling open a drawer and taking out a honey lemon slice. He walked over to Jian Ruochen, unwrapped it, and placed it in the first of the stacked paper cups. "Drink this—it's flavored."

Jian Ruochen lowered his gaze, looking at the distinctly knuckled, dark fingers holding the wrapper. The tips of his ears felt warm.

Even though it was just placing a lemon slice in a cup, it felt like they were having a clandestine affair in front of their colleagues.

Jian Ruochen swallowed, "Thank you, Detective Guan."

As he spoke, he subtly glanced up to check Liu Sizheng's expression.

Liu Sizheng smacked his lips, his eyes shifting between Guan Yingjun and Jian Ruochen.

Detective Guan is so good to Consultant Jian.

Sigh...

Guan Yingjun followed Jian Ruochen's gaze and asked Liu Sizheng, "Do you want one?"

Liu Sizheng was stunned and waved his hands repeatedly, "No, no, no, no, no."

How could he possibly take the lemon that the Boss had specifically bought for Consultant Jian?

It was only right for Detective Guan to treat Consultant Jian well.

After all, there were so many people outside eyeing the Little God of Wealth hungrily; one careless moment and he could be lured away.

To hold onto the Little God of Wealth, it was natural to offer special treatment and employ some psychological tactics.

Understandable, understandable.

Under Liu Sizheng's gaze, the tips of Jian Ruochen's ears turned bright red.

The small mole on the cartilage of his ear turned a deep red from the rush of blood.

Guan Yingjun stared until Jian Ruochen turned and went back into the interrogation room.

The stout, old-fashioned kettle contained warm tea.

Jian Ruochen separated the stacked paper cups, poured three, and passed them to Zhang Xingzong and Jiang Hanyu.

Jiang Hanyu kept his head down, staring motionlessly at the cup of hot water. His face was pale, his lips colorless, and he was in a daze, still reeling from the earlier shock.

He stared at the water in front of him, telling himself:

Jian Ruochen couldn’t possibly be kind enough to get him water. Perhaps he had poured boiling water, intending to scald him or see him make a fool of himself.

Jiang Hanyu knew deep down that such speculation lacked any logical basis, but he couldn’t help thinking it.

Because the calmer and more unresponsive Jian Ruochen was, the more terrifying he seemed.

He would rather be treated as an enemy by Jian Ruochen—

Hated, retaliated against.

Rather than be treated as just an ordinary criminal.

That would feel like utter defeat.

A complete and total loss.

He sincerely hoped there was something amiss with this cup of water, that it concealed Jian Ruochen’s ulterior motive, so he could seize the opportunity to accuse him of pettiness.

Even if it only annoyed Jian Ruochen, it would still feel like a momentary victory.

Jiang Hanyu’s hands were cuffed, so he couldn’t drink with one hand like Jian Ruochen and Zhang Xingzong. Instead, he lifted the cup with both hands and took a small sip.

The warm water moistened his lips.

He suddenly wanted to cry.

There was nothing amiss; it was just an ordinary cup of warm water.

Why…?

Why didn’t Jian Ruochen even hate him?

Had he never cared about anyone at all?

Jiang Hanyu suddenly buried his face in his hands and broke into heart-wrenching sobs.

Zhang Xingzong was startled and asked softly, "What’s wrong with him?"

Jian Ruochen recalled what Teacher Li had recently taught him, applying the lesson to the case before him, and explained quietly, "Jiang Hanyu may have mental health issues. His emotions have been suppressed to the extreme, and his body is reacting to release them. It’s fine; let’s wait and see."

Jiang Hanyu cried for a while until he was out of breath. He lifted his head, gasping for air, and cried out between sobs, "The dorm supervisor was indeed my accomplice!"

"You guessed right! The dorm supervisor was just an intermediary relaying messages. There’s someone above him, but I’ve never met them. I know… I know I’m not qualified, know I’m just a pawn!"

"Jian Ruochen, it’s all your fault. I did this because I hated you, because I wanted to defeat you. You’re the one who led me down this path."

"Jiang Hanyu," Jian Ruochen said calmly, "If you truly wanted to defeat me, there are many honorable ways to do it."

He smiled slightly, figuring Jiang Hanyu wouldn’t understand a lecture. Rather than waste time, it was better to wrap this up.

There were no more questions about the evidence record, and the espionage charges had been mostly covered. Only two questions remained.

Jian Ruochen asked, "Jiang Hanyu, when Lu Rong gave you the bank safe deposit box key, did he mention the nature or purpose of the contents inside?"

Jiang Hanyu sobbed, "No!"

Jian Ruochen frowned, his expression darkening.

Jiang Hanyu was startled, and even his sobs quieted.

He was truly afraid of Jian Ruochen now.

Equal parts hate and fear.

Jian Ruochen already carried the aura of a Major Crimes Unit detective. His stern expression was intimidating.

Unpredictable.

Jian Ruochen lowered his eyes in thought.

When Lu Rong gave Jiang Hanyu the key, he didn’t explain its use, and the MI6 secret files didn’t mention the key’s purpose either. Could it be in the undeciphered code?

Was that even plausible?

Was poisoning him such a significant event?

Worth writing in code in the MI6 secret files?

Jian Ruochen looked up at Jiang Hanyu. "Do you know how Lu Rong obtained the secret files?"

Jiang Hanyu sniffled, "I don’t know, I didn’t ask…"

He hadn’t dared to ask.

Jian Ruochen gave a quiet "Mm," closed the evidence file, and said, "Questions regarding financial crimes will be handled by the ICAC. Zhang Xingzong, show him the statement and have him sign and fingerprint it."

"Okay." Zhang Xingzong checked the record, then placed the A4 paper and red ink pad in front of Jiang Hanyu.

Jian Ruochen said, "Write your name next to the date on the last line, then write, 'I have read the above statement, and it matches what I said.' After writing, place your fingerprint on the date, name, and key testimony."

Jiang Hanyu cried uncontrollably, tears streaming down, making it hard for him to write properly.

Zhang Xingzong, growing impatient, grabbed his hand and slapped it down on the red ink pad with a couple quick stamps.

Before Jian Ruochen stood up to leave, he said softly, "Jiang Hanyu, your mistake was never hating me, nor was it your desire to win—it was committing a crime."

"Do your time."

With that, he walked out of the interrogation room side by side with Zhang Xingzong.

Liu Sizheng went in to cuff him.

Jiang Hanyu sat stunned, unable to react.

The words "do your time" hit like a heavy hammer to the crown of his head, leaving his ears ringing.

Watching from outside, Zhang Xingzong felt pretty pleased, but out of professional ethics, he turned to ask Guan Yingjun, "Should we let Jiang Hanyu eat here? At the ICAC... you know how Liu Qishang runs interrogations—he might not let Jiang Hanyu eat."

They're all cut from the same cloth; Guan Yingjun’s friends were no exception.

They were ruthless in interrogations, employing every trick in the book.

Among all institutions, only the suspects interrogated by Jian Ruochen received the most "humane treatment."

At least physically, they wouldn’t get hurt—it was all mental games.

Everyone knew that human rights under the British legal system were for those with money.

Whoever had power had human rights.

It was common for locals and regular Hong Kongers to be beaten within an inch of their lives by British police if they committed a crime.

Jiang Hanyu had outlived his usefulness now, and those above would certainly not protect him.

He was in for it at the ICAC.

Zhang Xingzong glanced at the detention center meal standard on the table: "Today, they're serving seaweed tofu and steamed pomfret, with curried corn and green peas as the vegetable side."

Guan Yingjun said coldly, "Send him away."

Beside him, Huo Mingxuan, who had been rather inconspicuous, added, "Don’t keep him. He just tried to pin his criminal motives on Consultant Jian in the interrogation room—what bad juju."

Zhang Xingzong copied Jian Ruochen’s move and gave an OK sign. "Liu Sizheng and I will see him out."

The others finished their tasks and went to the diner downstairs for lunch.

In the afternoon, Bi Wanwan and Ding Gao, who had been out searching for the codebook, returned.

Both looked frustrated.

Jian Ruochen poured them sweet tea and handed it over. "What’s wrong? Didn’t find it? Where’s Brother Song?"

Bi Wanwan took the water, thanked him, and sighed. "Worse than that—we couldn’t even get into the dormitory. The dorm manager downstairs insisted on seeing a search warrant; without it, he wouldn’t let us in."

Ding Gao took a sip. "Thanks, Little God of Wealth."

He paused, then chugged the rest in one go. "Brother Song thought the dorm manager was suspicious and stayed behind to keep watch."

Jian Ruochen blinked.

The members of Team A each had their own strengths.

Song Xuyi might be a bit older and more conservative, but old-school detectives had their ways.

"Old Song guessed right. The dorm manager is working with Jiang Hanyu—he’s probably an informant planted by British Hong Kong," Guan Yingjun leaned against the desk. "Don’t let Old Song watch alone; it’s too exhausting."

He looked toward the other side. "Huo Mingxuan, Lin Jiacheng, you two take turns with Song Xuyi."

Jian Ruochen glanced over.

These two kept to themselves in Team A, rarely standing out. They had decent presence and looked alert, but their features were ordinary.

Even their clothes were extremely low-key—gray, white, or brown.

At first glance, they seemed like people you’d see everywhere.

He’d never really noticed them before, which meant they were perfectly suited for surveillance.

Huo Mingxuan and Lin Jiacheng exchanged looks, snapped to attention, and said, "Yes, sir!"

Guan Yingjun glanced at his watch. "It’s almost quitting time. Call it a day; we’ll finish up tomorrow."

Liu Sizheng found it strange.

The old Guan Sir had been the overtime king in the entire police station. Everyone thought Guan Yingjun was one step away from marrying his office.

Now, though...

He left on time?

Unable to figure it out, he scratched his head and went to write his report.

Jian Ruochen grabbed his backpack for school.

He had an evening social science elective, and the old professor was big on attendance—both coming and going. He couldn't skip it.

Class ran from six-thirty to eight.

After class, as soon as he walked out of school,

he saw the car surrounded by four bodyguards.

Jian Ruochen: ...

Luo Binwen smiled and opened the car door. "Young Master, I’ve come to take you home."

Jian Ruochen quickly got in. "Next time, just have them wait in the car."

"Alright." Luo Binwen had a notebook on his knee, and his clothes had glitter on them and smelled like a perfume counter, as if he’d just come from a social event.

Jian Ruochen felt a pang of guilt. "I’ve left all the family business to you, and it’s cutting into your downtime."

Luo Binwen smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair.

He had never married, never had kids.

He truly didn't know what it felt like to have a child.

But ever since finding the Little Master, he’d finally experienced what it was like to be an elder, to be a father.

Worried about whether he was eating or sleeping well, or that he was eating too much and harming his stomach. Worried that he was too kind and naive, making bad friends or falling in love with the wrong person.

"Last time, you asked if I wanted to be your godfather," Luo Binwen smoothed Jian Ruochen’s messy hair. "Many things are just part of a parent’s duty."

Jian Ruochen was a little stunned.

Luo Binwen opened the pocket watch he always carried and gently placed it in Jian Ruochen’s hand. "Take a look at your mother."

Jian Ruochen lowered his gaze and saw a color photo.

It was a particularly stunning beauty, with platinum blonde curls falling down her back.

She sat on a checkered tablecloth amidst a flower garden, wearing a wreath of fresh flowers on her head, a picnic basket resting by her feet, smiling softly at the camera.

Luo Binwen stood behind her, dressed in a shirt, his hair not yet gray, looking about the same age as the woman.

He didn’t look at the camera but had lowered his gaze, his eyes resting on the floral wreath, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

Jian Ruochen suddenly understood.

Why Luo Binwen had spent eight hours trying to persuade a complete stranger in a café.

He wasn’t really persuading "Jian Ruochen."

Jian Ruochen blinked and handed the pocket watch back, remaining silent the whole time.

Late that night.

Jian Ruochen couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of the image of "mother."

In the original book, this woman had died from bleeding out after childbirth after giving birth to Jian Ruochen, without timely medical treatment.

He stepped out onto the balcony door for some fresh air and glanced down and saw Guan Yingjun standing outside the garden.

He froze.

Guan Yingjun looked surprised too.

He had just been wandering around late at night to clear his mind, ended up passing by, and stopped for a look.

He hadn’t intended to do anything.

Jian Ruochen locked eyes with him, then suddenly hooked a finger and patted the balcony railing.

Guan Yingjun chuckled, took a few steps back for a running start, and nimbly pulled himself up.

Jian Ruochen smirked. "Detective Guan, breaking and entering now?"

Guan Yingjun whispered, "That’s not fair. You motioned me over; I only came up. Is Consultant Jian going to interrogate me?"

Jian Ruochen said softly, "I’m too tired to interrogate anyone."

Guan Yingjun reached out and touched his lips, trying to smooth the frown. "Are you unhappy?"

It didn’t seem like a real smile.

When Jian Ruochen truly smiles, he gets dimples, sweet and charming.

He scooped him up, kicked off his shoes on the balcony, and walked barefoot into the room, whispering, "Don’t overthink it. I can make you happy."

Jian Ruochen wrapped his legs around him, clinging like a sloth, and looked down skeptically. "How?"

Guan Yingjun laid him on the bed, lifted the young man’s shirt, and ran his hand over the firm, beautiful lines of his abdomen.

Just as Jian Ruochen thought he was about to do something mischievous—

Guan Yingjun curled his fingers and tickled him, making the flat stomach beneath his hand jolt.

Jian Ruochen: "...Pfft."

So ticklish.

He didn’t dare laugh too loudly, afraid of waking the already sleeping Butler Luo. He was stifling a laugh until his stomach hurt, finally pushing at Guan Yingjun. "Stop tickling me, huff..."

Guan Yingjun’s eyes held a hint of laughter.

Jian Ruochen couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Guan Yingjun’s collar, flipped him over, leaned down, and kissed him, finally putting an end to the tickling.