Li Dongsheng had complained before that when Zhang Jian shifted gears in this beat-up Lavida, it was like he was trying to snap the gear stick off.
Today, Shen Xin finally understood what he meant.
And it wasn't just the gear stick. With 170,000 kilometers on the odometer, every part of the car seemed to rattle and groan.
On the way, while they were stopped at a red light, Shen Xin tried to send a text to Li Dongsheng.
Something was clearly off with Zhang Jian.
He'd struggled so hard to become a Level 1 Police Chief. And while there was little chance of further promotion, getting there had been incredibly difficult—and falling from grace would be all too easy.
All it would take was one impulsive mistake.
But before he could finish typing, Zhang Jian's hand clamped down on his.
"Xiaoshen, I know what I'm doing,"
Zhang Jian said, his hand on Shen Xin's shoulder and his expression grim. "I've handled plenty of cases in my life, but few have been this infuriating."
The main suspects were in custody, but they were stuck on the very last step, unable to close the case cleanly.
"This case needs a proper resolution," Zhang Jian said, his voice firm.
Shen Xin said nothing, but he could sense that Zhang Jian had a personal stake in this case.
A case this big rarely came through the local station.
If they solved it, a Third-Class Merit award would be practically guaranteed, to be honest.
With a commendation like that, Zhang Jian might actually have a shot at another promotion.
'Of course, that was just his own speculation.'
And from his own perspective, Shen Xin didn't want to hand the case over to the Criminal Investigation Division either.
'He'd personally arrested Tian Yongjun and Fan Jie. To see things through, didn't that mean he had to be the one to catch the final suspect?'
Before long, the car arrived at Xianghong Village. As he got out, Shen Xin sent a quick text to Li Dongsheng, briefly explaining the situation.
Li Dongsheng's reply came quickly.
"Be careful. Your application to end your probation early hasn't been approved yet."
'Now that was a true mentor, looking out for him completely, afraid Zhang Jian would drag him down and make him commit a mistake.'
Zhang Jian led Shen Xin straight to Wu Zhicun's house.
Wu Zhicun was sitting in the main room, still listening to a traditional opera.
Zhang Jian stormed in, got straight to the point, and sat down directly across from Wu Zhicun. He then pulled a pair of handcuffs from the small of his back and, with a loud CLACK, slapped them onto the table.
'Shen Xin's heart leaped into his throat. This is going to be bad.'
"Uncle Wu, I'm sure Xiaoshen has already told you everything that needs to be said. I'll get straight to it: if you give me something useful today, we can work this out. If not, then this isn't over."
Zhang Jian slapped the handcuffs again, his meaning perfectly clear.
Wu Zhicun recognized the voice immediately.
Wu Zhicun's response to the threat was blunt and direct: he simply held out both his hands, as if to say, 'Do your worst.'
As if that wasn't enough of a statement, he fumbled for the handcuffs on the table and tried to cuff himself.
Shen Xin's heart pounded, and he rushed to stop him.
"Uncle Wu, there's no need for this."
'It was easy to put them on, but getting them off would be another story entirely.'
"Captain Zhang, let's just talk this out calmly," Shen Xin said, trying to mediate. "I've spent the past few days with Uncle Wu, and I can tell he's a reasonable man."
"Bullshit!"
Before Zhang Jian could speak, Wu Zhicun scoffed. "Don't you fucking try to scare me. I'm sixty-seven years old and all alone in this world. To be honest, I've lived long enough. If you've got the guts, then take me away. Interrogate me however you want. Bring it on. If I so much as whimper or beg for mercy, I'll admit you've won."
Shen Xin had witnessed this defiant streak of his before. The man was more obstinate than anyone.
And Shen Xin believed he meant every word.
He was sixty-seven, nearly seventy, blind and living a difficult life.
If his grandson were still alive, he would have something to live for.
But now, he was truly alone and feared nothing.
Zhang Jian's eyes widened. "Uncle Wu, I'm not here to complain or give you a hard time. For the past three days, I haven't rested for a second. I've canvassed the entire Xianghong Village, top to bottom. We didn't miss a single person; we questioned everyone we could. One of our officers worked himself so hard his high blood pressure flared up and he ended up in the hospital. Why are we doing all this? We're just trying to solve the case and get justice for the victims."
"Justice?"
Before Zhang Jian could finish, Wu Zhicun cut him off.
He was agitated now, slamming his hand on the table. "You're talking to me about justice?"
"I had only one grandson! He was only eight years old! Who did he ever provoke? He vanished without a trace—no sign of him living, no body to bury!"
"You say things aren't easy for you? So they're easy for me? Was it easy for my grandson?"
"I'm already this old! I don't care about anything else. I just want to know what happened to my grandson. If he's dead, I'll give him a proper burial, and then I'll dig a grave for myself and lie down right next to him."
"You talk to me about justice, but who will give my grandson justice?"
Wu Zhicun grew more and more agitated as he spoke. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come.
His face was flushed, spit flying from his lips as he panted for breath.
Zhang Jian was stumped. He stood there stiffly, his voice losing its force. "Uncle Wu, that's not the same thing."
"How is it not the same thing? You want justice, and so do I! Can you give me my justice?"
He shouted the question, flecks of spittle nearly hitting Zhang Jian in the face.
Zhang Jian froze, his face taut, and said nothing.
Wu Zhicun fell silent as well, wiping at his eyes over and over, though not a single tear fell.
Shen Xin quickly pulled at Zhang Jian's arm.
Once he had dragged Zhang Jian out into the courtyard, Shen Xin said, "Captain Zhang, this isn't working."
Wu Zhicun just kept repeating the same things. For the past three days, Shen Xin had tried every angle he could think of, but nothing worked.
"What if... we reopen the investigation into Wu Jiawang's case?" Shen Xin asked tentatively.
Shen Xin also felt there was something off about Wu Jiawang's case.
Zhang Jian's face darkened, but he said nothing.
'Reopen Wu Jiawang's case? As if he had the authority to make that call.'
'Besides, it had been seven years. With no new leads, what good would reopening the investigation do?'
Frustrated, Zhang Jian stomped his foot and squatted down in the courtyard to sulk.
There was nothing Shen Xin could do but wait beside him.
About ten minutes later, after Zhang Jian had littered the ground with cigarette butts and was about to get up to have another go at Wu Zhicun, Song Liang and Wang Shuwei arrived in a hurry.
Seeing Zhang Jian, Song Liang glared and barked, "Zhang Jian, if you want to take off that uniform for good today, I won't stop you. But if you still consider yourself a People's Police officer, then you will get your ass back to the station."
The words were incredibly harsh.
Zhang Jian looked from Song Liang to Wang Shuwei, let out a long sigh, and sullenly walked out of the courtyard.
"Old Song, calm down,"
Wang Shuwei said, then hurried after Zhang Jian.
Song Liang sighed, walked over to Shen Xin, and glanced toward the main room. "Is Wu Zhicun really that stubborn?" he asked in a low voice.
Shen Xin just shrugged, as if to say, "Why don't you give it a try?"
"I'll do just that."
Song Liang pursed his lips. Back in the day, he'd been a master interrogator. There wasn't a type of criminal he hadn't seen.
He turned and entered the main room, closing the door behind him.
Faintly, they could hear Wu Zhicun shouting something.
But just a few minutes later, the door to the main room opened again.
Song Liang walked out, looking dejected. He met Shen Xin's questioning gaze, a flash of embarrassment on his face, and muttered, "Let's head back to the station for now."
Shen Xin chuckled to himself and quickly followed.
But just as he stepped out of the courtyard, his phone vibrated.
It was a notification from the cat-camera app, informing Shen Xin that the battery was dead and needed to be recharged.
Shen Xin pulled out his phone. 'My method is probably unreliable anyway,' he thought. 'I should just call Da Mei later, find that bicolor cat, and take the recorder off its neck.'
'An investigation method like this... it felt completely outlandish just thinking about it.'
However, as he was closing the notification, some impulse made Shen Xin tap on the most recently taken photos instead.
It was a chaotic jumble of all sorts of pictures.
But as he scrolled through them, Shen Xin suddenly froze.
A few consecutive photos showed a cat bowl filled with food. Someone must have been feeding the bicolor cat.
More importantly, one of the photos, taken from a low angle looking up, captured a young man.
He was wearing glasses, had somewhat tan skin, and was looking down at the lens.
'Who is this young man?' A thought stirred in Shen Xin's mind.