Beyond Zhang Yi’ang’s expectations, after the police notified Lang Botu that he was suspected in Lu Yibo’s murder case, Lang Botu didn’t flee but instead drove straight to the Public Security Bureau, even righteously questioning the criminal police: “How am I suspected of killing Lu Yibo?”

The criminal police didn’t know either—they had only heard that Director Zhang had determined Lang Botu was the killer, so they brought him in for interrogation first.

In the interrogation room, Lang Botu sat in the interrogation chair with annoyance written all over his face. Not far away in another room, Zhang Yi’ang and the others sat collectively in front of monitors, watching the entire interrogation process.

“Let me ask you, on the evening of November 5th at ten o’clock, did you drive your BMW SUV past Pingkang Road?” The interrogation team member first verified his identity information according to routine procedure, then began the formal questioning. The two interrogators—one asking questions, one recording—both wore earpieces so they could receive instructions from leadership in real time.

“I drive that car past Pingkang Road every day! My home is in that direction, Officer!”

“Be serious!” the interrogator shouted.

“Yes, yes, yes, but the problem is you’re saying I killed Lu Yibo—this whole thing is baffling! Lu Yibo died by the riverside on the evening of the 5th, and that river is pretty close to Pingkang Road, but I pass through Pingkang Road basically every day. On what grounds are you saying I killed Lu Yibo?”

“Wait—” All the police officers inside and outside the interrogation room changed their expressions. The interrogator pressed: “How do you know Lu Yibo died on the evening of November 5th?”

Zhang Yi’ang smiled at the others: “See, one question and he’s already exposed himself.” Everyone nodded secretly. The more they looked at Lang Botu, the more he resembled a murderer.

Lang Botu answered calmly and composedly: “You said so yourselves. Didn’t you say I’m suspected of killing Lu Yibo and then ask me about the evening of November 5th at ten o’clock? So Lu Yibo must have been killed that evening. Otherwise why would you ask me about November 5th?”

“Then how do you know Lu Yibo died by the river?”

“Yesterday a corpse was discovered by the river next to Pingkang Road—many people know about it. I figured it was Lu Yibo.”

This explanation seemed completely plausible. Everyone looked at Lang Botu again. Hmm… this person didn’t really look like a murderer after all.

“What were you doing before driving that evening?”

“Eating dinner, having dinner with friends.”

“Until what time?”

“So many days have passed—I don’t remember very clearly.”

“Where were you, and who did you eat with?”

Lang Botu recalled for a moment, gave the name of a restaurant and several friends, which the recorder noted down one by one.

“What were you doing on November 6th?”

“On the afternoon of November 6th, I went to Beijing on a business trip.”

“A business trip for what?”

“Some company business.”

“Specifically?”

“Several investment opportunity pitch meetings for investment banking.”

“Besides the business trip, what else did you do these past few days?”

“Nothing else—oh right, on the morning of November 6th I went to the hospital, and after returning the day before yesterday I also went to the hospital.”

“What did you go to the hospital for?”

“Going to the hospital is naturally to see a doctor. I had a severe cold those days. That morning when I got up I had no strength in my whole body. When I went to the hospital they checked and found I had a fever of thirty-nine degrees Celsius. I got an injection at the hospital, and during the following days while on business in Beijing I kept taking medicine. Even now I haven’t recovered.” He coughed a few times to indicate he was still in a cold state.

Hearing this answer, everyone in the monitoring room was stunned. Wang Ruijun looked hesitantly at Director Zhang: “If he had a severe cold with fever those days, he’s unlikely to be the killer. Why would someone pick the period when they have a cold and fever to kill someone?”

Zhang Yi’ang’s eyes narrowed slightly. He turned and instructed the others: “Call Medical Examiner Chen over to examine him and see if he really has a cold.”

Wang Ruijun quietly reminded him: “About this… Teacher Chen is a medical examiner… he doesn’t treat the living, does he?”

But Zhang Yi’ang didn’t care: “If he can determine time of death, can’t he determine whether someone had a severe cold on a particular day?”

The leader had given orders, so the subordinates had no choice. Wang Ruijun waved his hand and had a junior criminal police officer go find Medical Examiner Chen. The officer arrived at the medical examiner’s office and steeled himself to relay the director’s request. When Medical Examiner Chen heard he was being asked to diagnose a living person’s cold, he immediately flew into a rage, saying he wasn’t some quack doctor—all day long he had to do injury assessments for the living and autopsies for the dead, and now he was supposed to handle colds and fevers too? If he treated someone’s cold this time, wouldn’t all major and minor illnesses in the unit come to the medical examiner in the future? Preposterous! He adamantly refused to go.

Medical Examiner Chen refused to come, and Zhang Yi’ang had no solution, so he could only have the interrogation team member ask if he had medical records. Lang Botu said he did—the medical record book was in his office, and he could call his secretary to bring it over.

The interrogation work on Lang Botu temporarily came to a pause. The group in the monitoring room would wait for his medical records to arrive before deciding the next steps. Based on the current interrogation situation, everyone split into two camps with different opinions. Wang Ruijun, Song Xing, and other veteran criminal police felt Lang Botu couldn’t be the killer—his performance was very natural without any panic, and so far apart from him passing through Pingkang Road, there were no suspicious points implicating him in murder. He passed through Pingkang Road every day—this proved nothing. The other camp had only two people: Zhang Yi’ang firmly believed Lang Botu was the killer, and Li Qian unconditionally trusted his judgment.

“Director, if Lang Botu’s medical records confirm that on the morning of the 6th he indeed had a fever of thirty-nine degrees, then I think he’s unlikely to be the killer.” Although Song Xing’s status in the unit had recently plummeted, when facing major issues of right and wrong in murder cases, he still maintained a cautious and objective attitude, carefully offering suggestions to the leadership. Fever is extremely uncomfortable—if he really had a fever of thirty-nine degrees, in that state with his whole body aching and weak, how could he have the energy to kill someone?

Zhang Yi’ang shook his head: “Even if he had a fever, he had it on November 6th. Lu Yibo died on the evening of November 5th. At least on November 5th, Lang Botu was in excellent spirits—otherwise how would he have the energy to attend his friend’s dinner gathering?”

“This…”

Zhang Yi’ang snorted coldly: “There’s another suspicious point. On November 6th he was so seriously ill, yet that afternoon he went on a business trip to Beijing. If the business trip was for something important there’d be no helping it, but he went to listen to investment banking pitch meetings and participated for several days—isn’t this far too strange?”

Investment banking pitch meetings are mostly intended to trick people into investing money in projects. Truly good investment opportunities are taken internally long ago—why would they need to raise funds from society? Lang Botu had been the number two at Aotu Group for some years now, so naturally he should be crystal clear about these capital market tricks. Would he go to Beijing for this kind of investment pitch meeting while having a fever and stay for a full two days?

Zhang Yi’ang added: “He has another major flaw. If Lu Yibo wasn’t killed by him, when we tell him we suspect Lu Yibo’s death is related to him, his first reaction would be to say he had a cold and was sick at that time, so he couldn’t possibly have had the strength to kill anyone. Why didn’t he say this at the beginning?”

“Right, why didn’t he say it?”

“Because in his mind he had calculated that if he said this at the beginning, we would suspect he had prepared his statement in advance. So he deliberately didn’t say it first, waiting for us to discover he had a cold and fever, letting us take the initiative to rule him out as a suspect.”

“That makes sense.” After hearing Zhang Yi’ang lay out these two points, everyone’s position tilted slightly toward Lang Botu being suspicious again.

However, after thinking for a few seconds, Song Xing hesitantly said: “Director… uh, I think there’s a slight small problem here.”

“Go ahead.”

“If Lang Botu said at the beginning that he was sick and didn’t have the strength to kill anyone, we would suspect he prepared his statement in advance. Now he didn’t say it at the beginning, and when we discover he was sick, we still suspect he has a problem. Uh… in other words, no matter when Lang Botu says he was sick, we’ll suspect he’s lying?” An idiom floated through Song Xing’s mind—suspecting one’s neighbor of stealing the ax. Once upon a time, someone lost an ax and suspected his neighbor’s son stole it. Observing that person’s words and behavior, everything looked like someone who stole an ax. Later, when digging, the person unearthed the ax. Looking at the neighbor’s son again, nothing looked like someone who would steal an ax.

Zhang Yi’ang pursed his lips and cast his gaze toward Wang Ruijun: “What do you think?”

“It seems… it seems to be what Old Song said.”

“How about this,” Zhang Yi’ang sighed, “I’ll make you a bet—”

“No need for betting!” Wang Ruijun said urgently. He was afraid the director would learn from Medical Examiner Chen and bet on who would resign over this matter. Whether he won or lost the bet, he would definitely be the one to resign—it would never be the director’s turn. Everyone was working toward the same goal—solving the case and catching the real killer was the unified objective. Why bet on it?

“We’ll just bet one yuan.”

“Oh…” Wang Ruijun breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, what are we betting on?”

“I bet that in Lang Botu’s hospital test report, it’s a bacterial cold, not a viral cold. If it’s a viral cold, I’ll release him directly.”

“Ah! What’s the reasoning behind this?” Wang Ruijun was completely baffled.

Zhang Yi’ang explained: “The day before he got the cold and fever, he had the energy to attend a dinner gathering, and on the afternoon of the day he had the fever, he had the energy to go to Beijing—this shows his cold was deliberate. How can one deliberately catch a cold? Very simple—after killing Lu Yibo on the evening of November 5th, he went home and kept taking cold showers. In this kind of weather, taking cold showers easily causes colds and fevers. He deliberately created a cold and fever to make us rule him out as a suspect during the investigation. Colds caused by catching a chill are all bacterial colds. Viral colds require an infectious source—they can’t be gotten just because you want them temporarily. So I bet he definitely has a bacterial cold. Otherwise, I’ll release him immediately.”

Everyone nodded dubiously, speculating one after another—criminals these days play such sophisticated games to clear themselves of suspicion?

Half an hour later, an employee from Lang Botu’s company delivered his medical records to the Public Security Bureau. Inside was a medical record from November 6th showing a fever of thirty-eight point eight degrees, and the test results on the lab report really indicated a bacterial cold! Wang Ruijun looked incredulously at the calmly smiling Director Zhang, then looked back at Lang Botu in the monitor, and couldn’t help but find this person quite suspicious.

The interrogation continued, but soon the interrogators had finished asking all their prepared questions. All his answers were reasonable and well-founded, with no connection whatsoever to the murder case. The only suspicious point was what Zhang Yi’ang had pointed out earlier—that he attended a dinner gathering the day before his fever and went on a business trip to Beijing that same afternoon. This only proved he ran around everywhere while having a cold, becoming a mobile source of infection with no public morals, but the law didn’t stipulate that having a cold meant you had to stay home and not run around. They couldn’t convict him based on this.

Up to now, the police hadn’t produced any substantive evidence at all, making the interrogation work very difficult to continue. The interrogator looked up toward the surveillance camera, casting a pleading gaze toward the leadership.

Everyone else had no ideas either—all eyes turned to Zhang Yi’ang.

Zhang Yi’ang stood up and smiled confidently: “I’d better go meet with him myself.”

He left the room with his crutch and entered the interrogation room. When the interrogators saw the leader arrive, they all stood up and moved aside, letting him sit in the middle.

“Lang Botu, I’m Zhang Yi’ang. I’m giving you one last chance. Will you confess or not?”

After hearing his name, Lang Botu’s expression changed slightly as he stammered: “I… I really didn’t kill anyone. What do you want me to confess?”

Zhang Yi’ang shook his head and casually picked up the interrogation record on the table, which contained statements written by Lang Botu himself. He smiled: “Your handwriting is very beautiful, very distinctive.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

Zhang Yi’ang beckoned, having a team member go to the evidence room to bring two photocopied group photos. He handed the photocopies to Lang Botu.

“Take a look. You recognize these photos, right?”

“These are our old group photos.”

“Look carefully. The date in the lower right corner—you wrote those characters, didn’t you?”

“Yes… I wrote them. What does this prove?” He was slightly nervous.

“Then let me ask you, how is your relationship with your older brother Lang Bowen?”

“We… our relationship is very good.”

“Not necessarily that good, right? Many things, many of your thoughts—you’ve never let him know, have you?”

“I—no, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” His expression was clearly panicked now. Everyone was secretly shocked—Lang Botu, who had just been so composed, suddenly changed after Director Zhang’s seemingly casual questions. What exactly did Director Zhang know? Their conversation seemed comprehensible only to the two of them.

“You don’t understand? Then think about it carefully.”

Lang Botu lowered his head slightly. After a few seconds, he raised his head again, his expression restored to normal, his face written all over with the word “wronged”: “Leader, I truly don’t know why you’re interrogating me. Lu Yibo and I had some friendship—how could I possibly have killed him?”

“You had friendship with Lu Yibo? Ha, you had a grudge against him, more like it!”

Lang Botu’s expression changed dramatically, but he forced himself to stabilize.

“Then who do you think killed Lu Yibo?”

“I don’t know. Instead of asking me, you’d be better off asking his girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Zhang Yi’ang was slightly startled. In their investigation, they only knew Lu Yibo was single—they never knew he had a girlfriend. “Lu Yibo had a girlfriend too?”

“Of course, who doesn’t have a girlfriend these days?”

At these words, the single police officers inside and outside the interrogation room all shouted—what are you saying, be serious with your attitude, this is an interrogation! At this moment, looking at Lang Botu again, this bastard was definitely the killer!

“Who’s his girlfriend?”

“Zhou Qi—the owner of the spa on the hotel’s third floor.”

This was quite unexpected. None of them had thought Zhou Qi was Lu Yibo’s girlfriend. In their few scattered interactions with these two people, neither had ever revealed this point, and the hotel staff didn’t know either.

Zhang Yi’ang thought for a moment. He would first investigate Zhou Qi’s situation. Without evidence, Lang Botu in this state wouldn’t confess. He stood up and said sternly: “We’ll investigate this matter immediately, but don’t hold onto any false hope—I know it was you.—You few continue interrogating him. Don’t let him sleep. Interrogate him until he confesses.”

Hearing these words, Lang Botu’s expression changed dramatically: “You… how long are you going to hold me!”

“Indefinitely.”

“You can’t do this! What does Lu Yibo’s death have to do with me? You have no proof, no evidence—how can you lock me up? You said it was a summons. I know a summons is twenty-four hours at most. You can’t keep me locked up. I’m going to file a complaint!” Lang Botu shouted in fear.

Hearing him say he would file a complaint, one interrogator cautiously pulled Director Zhang outside the door: “Director Zhang, are you really planning to keep him locked up indefinitely?”

“Of course.”

“Uh… the criminal police notified him it was a summons. According to regulations, after twenty-four hours tomorrow we have to release him. Otherwise if he files a complaint, it’ll be quite troublesome.”

“Then don’t treat it as a summons. Treat him as a key suspect in a criminal case and conduct an investigative detention. Then we don’t need to worry about the twenty-four hours.”

The interrogator said with some concern: “But after all, we don’t have evidence in hand. Using investigative detention will be somewhat problematic procedurally.”

Zhang Yi’ang turned and entered the room, asking: “Lang Botu, I’m now notifying you that you’re suspected in Lu Yibo’s murder case. We’re changing the summons to investigative detention. Investigative detention has no twenty-four hour limitation. Do you understand the judicial regulations regarding investigative detention?”

“I’m not very clear about them.”

“That’s wonderful!” Zhang Yi’ang turned to his subordinates and said, “See, he’s not clear about them, so there’s no problem.”

The interrogator thought about it. Hmm, he didn’t understand the procedures, so indeed there seemed to be no problem.

Zhang Yi’ang turned around and closed the door, letting Lang Botu shout about being wronged while turning a deaf ear to it all.