CJLTNS Chapter 2

“Captain, we found him!”

Just as the cigarette in Jiang Chong’s hand was about to burn out, Li Fangfei came over and handed him a sheet of A4 paper. “Captain, we found the guy. Zhang Shuai, goes by Old Shuai. He’s from a rural county and currently lives in an old residential area in the west part of the city. Ten years ago, he served three years in prison for robbery. Since his release, he’s been idle, with no steady job. He’s been arrested before for petty theft, but the amounts were small, so he only got ten days of administrative detention.”

He had a record, he lacked money—it all sounded like a strong motive. Jiang Chong looked at the dull-eyed man in the photo and immediately gave out orders. “Old Ma, come with me to Zhang Shuai’s rental. Tang Yuan, you guys go to his hometown. Li Fangfei, keep digging into his social connections.”

Watching the four men quickly gear up and leave, Li Fangfei shook her head helplessly. Working in the Criminal Investigation Division was seriously not a job for humans—they treat women like men, and men like beasts of burden!

Old Ma got into the car under the envious gazes of Tang Qijun and Yuan Kai. Last time during a drug dealer chase, Captain Jiang Chong crashed a Cullinan. Not long after, a brand-new Cullinan appeared in the police parking lot again.

Sitting in the gleaming vehicle, Ma Pingchuan lovingly stroked the car like it was a rare treasure—more eagerly than he would react to a flirty influencer in a short video. Jiang Chong glanced sideways as he started the engine. “Old Ma, seatbelt.”

Jiang Chong floored the accelerator, and Ma Pingchuan immediately felt the intense thrust against his back, scrambling to fasten his seatbelt.

At 8 p.m., Tang Qijun and Yuan Kai brought Zhang Shuai back to the office. Zhang was limp and weak, barely staying upright with both of them supporting him.

He was tall and burly, bald, and looked like someone you wouldn’t want to mess with. Add in the thick gold chain around his neck, and he was a walking stereotype for anti-gang crime campaigns. Jiang Chong and Ma Pingchuan had found his rental empty, but Tang Qijun and Yuan Kai caught him red-handed in the cellar of his old rural home.

As soon as Zhang Shuai saw Tang Qijun and Yuan Kai, he took off running. Yuan Kai had barely pulled out his gun to warn him when Zhang Shuai collapsed to the ground, begging for mercy nonstop.

Li Fangfei noticed the group returning and suddenly caught a strange smell lingering in the air. She covered her nose with one hand and pointed at Zhang Shuai with the other. “What happened to him?”

Tang Qijun shook his head and sighed. “He, uh… had a bit of a bodily release in a moment of crisis.”

Turned out he wet himself. Everyone looked at Zhang Shuai with clear disgust. How could someone so cowardly look so intimidating? Beneath that tough guy exterior was a fragile heart—it was truly a disgrace to his looks.

Jiang Chong pointed at Tang Qijun. “Tang Qijun, go get him a pair of your pants to change into.”

Tang Qijun frowned and protested. “Captain, why me? Yuan Kai has pants too! So does Old Ma!”

The Criminal Investigation Division’s work often went on day and night, so everyone kept a full change of clothes at the office. Truthfully, Tang Qijun wanted to mention that even Captain Jiang had spare clothes—but Jiang Chong’s wardrobe consisted entirely of designer brands. The cheapest item was worth thousands, and the pricier ones tens of thousands. Some even had no tags at all—rumored to be custom-made, with sky-high prices.

Even just one of Jiang Chong’s shirts could buy a hundred pairs of pants. There was no way Tang Qijun would dare ask to use one of his!

“Because yours are the cheapest!”

“Hahahaha!”

In the silence of the late night, the Criminal Investigation Division’s office erupted in thunderous laughter. Old Ma patted Tang Qijun on the shoulder. “That’s what you get for spending all your money on gaming gear and anime figurines. If you’d just bought one decent pair of pants, it wouldn’t have come to this!”

“So what if you’re rich…” Tang Qijun gritted his teeth, ready to go head-to-head with these wealthy types.

Grumbling, he went to the dorm and dug through his messy bed to find the cheapest pair of pants he had for Zhang Shuai to change into. Next up: further interrogation.

Jiang Chong stood in front of the one-way mirror of the interrogation room, watching Tang Qijun and Yuan Kai question Zhang Shuai, while Li Fangfei sat beside them taking notes.

Ma Pingchuan stood next to Jiang Chong and stealthily picked up the box of Zhonghua cigarettes from the table. Just as he put one in his mouth, Jiang Chong’s voice rang out:

“Old Ma, go ahead and smoke—but make sure your mom doesn’t come looking for me.”

Ma Pingchuan’s mom was a frequent visitor to the police station, often coming with a mother’s concern to look after him—bringing him soup or fruit was just the norm. She was especially strict about his smoking. Since Ma Pingchuan’s father had died of lung cancer, his mother feared he’d follow the same path, so she strictly forbade him from smoking.

Every time she found out he was smoking, she’d personally show up at the Criminal Investigation Division’s office—particularly in Jiang Chong’s office—crying about how her son now served the country, and thus the country should help manage him. She begged Jiang Chong to make sure he didn’t smoke.

To show her gratitude, Ma Pingchuan’s mom had even knitted a sweater for Jiang Chong. It became the only item in Jiang Chong’s wardrobe that wasn’t custom-made or tailored by professionals.

Hearing Jiang Chong’s comment, Ma Pingchuan resentfully put down the cigarette. The two people he feared most were, first, Chief Wu, and second, his own mother. Jiang Chong ranked third.

The cigarette in his hand gave off a faint tobacco scent, seducing the hot-blooded man like a little temptress. Ma Pingchuan hesitated for a moment but ultimately stuck to his principles. He couldn’t let the little temptress lead him astray. He gave the cigarette a sniff and tucked it behind his ear.

Inside the interrogation room, things went smoothly. In less than half an hour, Zhang Shuai confessed everything. There was no dramatic twist, no tragic injustice—just a spur-of-the-moment crime. He saw an opportunity, noticed there were no cameras at the back door, and acted on impulse.

Once the interrogation ended, Tang Qijun and Yuan Kai escorted Zhang Shuai to the holding cell. Li Fangfei stretched, nearly drowning in exhaustion.

“Alright, after staying up all night and day, everyone goes rest. Tomorrow we’ll bring the suspect to identify the scene.”

“Yay!” Li Fangfei jumped on the spot. She could finally sleep. If she didn’t, her under-eye bags would be permanently welded to her face.

She and Ma Pingchuan quickly started gathering their things. Jiang Chong picked up the cigarette box on the desk and tossed it to Ma Pingchuan. “Old Ma, just don’t get caught.”

Ma Pingchuan nodded, looking at Jiang Chong as though he were some kind of savior or Buddha enlightening the masses. “Got it, Captain!”

Jiang Chong turned off the office light and was the last to leave. He walked through the quiet hallway, thinking about the case they’d just handled.

Complicated and twisted cases mostly existed in novels. In real life, most crimes were crimes of passion—money, grudges, emotions—all capable of making someone lose their humanity and raise a knife against another.

“I’m going to become the greatest reporter, so everyone will know the truth and justice.”
Jiang Chong suddenly recalled that line—remembering the person he saw earlier that day.

That person hadn’t changed much, but also seemed completely different. Still cheerful, still full of energy—but now an entertainment reporter, and apparently obsessed with money.

Recalling his expression when receiving money, Jiang Chong felt the urge to laugh… and to slap him. Still the same annoying little brat as always.

Jiang Chong got into his car. The headlights of the black Cullinan lit up the area in front of the police bureau. As he drove out, he greeted Uncle Wei at the gate, then merged into the stream of traffic.

The black Cullinan drove along the overpass. Just as it approached the exit ramp, Jiang Chong turned the steering wheel and stayed on the overpass, heading in another direction.

At 10 PM, Jiang Chong parked beneath an old residential building. The aging complex had no underground parking—cars lined the sides of the road.

He had noticed earlier that the somewhat old Bora he’d seen that afternoon was parked two spaces behind his.

Jiang Chong took out his phone and transferred 2,000 yuan to a contact. The other party quickly replied:
“Thanks, Boss Jiang.”

He rolled down the car window slightly and looked up at the lit balcony on the third floor. There was a cradle on it. Someone was curled up inside—not a big cradle—and that person had shrunk into a ball, just like a baby in its mother’s womb.

Jiang Chong had excellent eyesight—one of the best in Kang City’s police department. He saw that the person’s hair was messier than it was in the afternoon, and slightly damp—clearly, they had washed it but hadn’t dried it.

That person was holding a book in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, though they weren’t actually smoking it—the cigarette simply burned quietly between their fingers.

They seemed to be in a pretty good mood. Their bare, slender calves dangled out from the cradle, and the toes of their small feet were still moving, like a child.

In the stillness of the night, a sudden honk broke Jiang Chong’s concentration. He pulled his gaze back, took a deep breath, and slammed his hand on the steering wheel. Unexpectedly, he hit the horn, and a sharp, piercing sound blared from the car.

Panicked, Jiang Chong quickly rolled up the window and looked out through the tinted glass. Seeing that there was no reaction from the person on the third-floor balcony, he let out a sigh of relief.

Realizing how unsettled he had become, his mood worsened. After staying up for an entire day and night without rest, his body was exhausted. Rationally, he knew he should go home and sleep, but for some reason, he still drove here.

After Yu Xin left the police station, Jiang Chong sent out his license plate number. At around eight in the evening, just after they had brought Zhang Shuai in, Jiang Chong received Yu Xin’s address.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat to relax, rubbing his face with his hands. When he opened his eyes again, all the strange emotions in them had been suppressed.

Jiang Chong started the car and quietly left the neighborhood in the darkness, heading back home once more.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz!”

Yu Xin was looking at a photo when the phone suddenly rang. He immediately sat up, tossed away the nearly finished cigarette, and answered the call. “Brother!”

A gentle, calm voice came through the other end. “Yu Xin, how have you been lately?”

Even though they couldn’t see each other through the phone, Yu Xin instantly dropped the playful demeanor he had during the day and replied like a model student, “I’ve been doing well, brother.”

“Have you been taking your medication properly?”

Yu Xin nodded. “I take it every day.”

“How’s your sleep?”

“It’s good. I sleep five or six hours every day.”

“Have you been eating well?”

Yu Xin nodded again. “I’ve been eating properly. Don’t worry, brother.”

A soft chuckle came from the other end of the line. Though it was light, it still sent a chill down Yu Xin’s back. He quickly added, “Really, I swear I’ve been taking my medicine, sleeping on time, eating properly—really!”

“Alright then, since you said so, I’ll believe you. Anyway, I’ll be heading to Kagzhou in a while—we’ll talk more when we meet”

“You’re coming to Kangzhou? That’s great! What about uncle—is he coming back with you?”

A gossipy smile appeared on Yu Xin’s face. But the voice on the other end of the phone, though still as gentle and calm as always, now carried a trace of coldness:
“Yu Xin, are you a tabloid reporter? I’m not a celebrity. Didn’t Auntie ever tell you that kids shouldn’t meddle in adults’ business?”

Yu Xin picked up on the threatening undertone in the words. The smile on his face vanished completely, and he nodded quickly. “I’m not curious. Not curious at all.”

The person on the other end gave him a couple more reminders, and Yu Xin nodded in agreement.

When the call finally ended, Yu Xin’s once upright posture collapsed. He lowered his gaze to the phone in his hand. His long hair and thick eyelashes cast shadows over his eyes, making it impossible to read the emotion within them.

The May night wind was still chilly. A sudden gust made Yu Xin shiver. He slipped on his slippers and walked into the bedroom. From the drawer by the bed, he took out a bottle of pills, shook out two, and swallowed them with a sip of cold water from the living room.

Yu Xin lay down on the bed. A breeze lifted the curtains, and the streetlight outside shone through the gap, casting its glow on the peeling ceiling.

He blinked his dry eyes and stared at the flickering patches of light dancing in and out of sight with the wind, his thoughts drifting off somewhere unknown.

After a while, Yu Xin suddenly reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. He got out of bed, slipped on his slippers again, and went to the bathroom to dry his still slightly damp hair with a hairdryer.

He tried to tidy his hair after blow-drying it, but the more he fussed with it, the messier it got. He shot a glare at himself in the mirror, thinking how this hair was just like his damn emotions—the more he tried to fix it, the worse it got.

Yu Xin lay back down again and forced his eyes shut. Following the method he had been taught, he began to quietly relax his body, mentally repeating:
“My feet are asleep… My calves are asleep… My thighs are asleep…”

A long time passed. Yu Xin didn’t open his eyes again, nor did he move. It was unclear whether he had fallen asleep or was still lying there awake.

On the other side of the city, Jiang Chong stood on the balcony of the 18th floor with a glass of red wine, gazing at the brilliant city lights. The dazzling light shows from the tall buildings changed shapes tirelessly, making the city look grand and magnificent, as if no ugliness or darkness could possibly exist here.

He tilted his head back and downed the glass of wine in one go. Then he turned and went back into his bedroom. On the way from the living room to the bedroom, he passed two study rooms. When he reached the door of one of them, he grasped the doorknob. With just a little force, the door would open.

But Jiang Chong stood there for several minutes, then slowly let go of the doorknob.
It had been six years, and he still didn’t have the courage to step into that room.