Chapter 17
“Money… what money?” Cai Wan’s voice trembled slightly.
“Your father took 300,000 when he fled,” Gong Yingxian said, his face expressionless. “He told me to ask you about the rest.”
“Impossible!” Cai Wan exclaimed, her voice rising. “He wouldn’t say something like that.”
Ren Yi raised an eyebrow.
Gong Yingxian pretended to flip through his notebook. “That’s exactly what he said. He told me to ask you, where is the rest of the money?”
Cai Wan lowered her head, slowly wiping away her tears.
Gong Yingxian waited for a while before knocking on the table. “Raise your head and answer the question.”
Cai Wan finally lifted her head, sniffling, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know what he meant. I don’t know about any ‘rest of the money.’ He wanted to burn Zhen alive, make it look like an accident, and he took all of Zhen’s money.”
“Only a measly 300,000?” Gong Yingxian questioned. “Your new drug just hit the market. It requires a mixture of three different ingredients, and I’ve heard it’s quite a luxurious formula, not something anyone can easily get their hands on. Meanwhile, Tao Zhen spent over 30,000 in just half a night at Fourth View, and you’re telling me that’s all he had?”
“How would I know? He’s always been generous with money. I know he had money, but I don’t know how much,” Cai Wan said quickly.
“Cai Wan, we will conduct a more thorough investigation and interrogation of your father. If his testimony differs from yours, neither of you will get away.”
Cai Wan took a deep breath and, for the first time, looked directly at Gong Yingxian, her eyes bloodshot. “I lied at first because… you, you have a father too, right? You understand me, don’t you?”
Ren Yi sneaked a glance at Gong Yingxian. He had just learned from Gong Feilan about Gong Yingxian’s childhood ordeal, and though Cai Wan’s words were unintentional, they would no doubt have struck a nerve with him.
Yet, Gong Yingxian’s face showed no emotion. He simply stared intently at Cai Wan.
“But now you know everything. My dad’s been arrested, and what I’m saying now is the truth,” Cai Wan cried. “He lost a lot of money gambling, owed loan sharks. I never imagined he would do something like this.”
“Did you really have no idea?”
Cai Wan shook her head vigorously.
“You’re the one who told him you were at Fourth View, right?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know he was going to do something like that.”
“Then how did he get Tao Zhen’s money?”
“I stayed at Tao Zhen’s rented place for a while. He came to see me there.”
Ren Yi couldn’t hold back any longer, speaking coldly. “So, you claim to know nothing, but you conveniently provided Cai Zhiwei with all the conditions he needed to pull this off.”
Cai Wan shivered and glanced at Ren Yi, then burst into tears again. “I didn’t know! I didn’t start the fire! I really didn’t know!” She sobbed harder and harder, then suddenly, without warning, began to scratch herself violently, tugging at her hair, screaming hysterically. Both men were startled.
The withdrawal symptoms came on too suddenly—it looked suspiciously like an act.
Gong Yingxian and Ren Yi exchanged a glance, stood up, and left the interrogation room.
Leaning against the hallway wall, both of them seemed dazed for a moment.
Ren Yi muttered under his breath, “I could really use a smoke right now.”
“You still smoke?”
“I did back in school, quit when I joined the squad.” Ren Yi licked his lips. “I just need to calm down.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Ren Yi stared at Gong Yingxian, pointing towards the interrogation room door, his tone growing heated. “You’re asking me why? That woman is probably an accomplice! She’s been playing us this whole time. First, it’s a cigarette butt that caught the curtains, then it’s an accidental spill of alcohol, then it’s some stranger who did it, then she says Tao Zhen did it, and finally, it’s her own damn father! Whatever, she’s innocent in every version! As the only survivor in that room, she’s the one who knows exactly what happened, but every word she says could be a lie!”
Gong Yingxian spoke in a low voice, “Yes, and the worst part is, if Cai Zhiwei doesn’t testify against her, we currently have no evidence to charge her with anything other than drug use.”
“So you’re still asking me why,” Ren Yi cursed under his breath. “Use your instincts. Do you think she’s an accomplice or not?”
“The law doesn’t care about instincts. Maybe she’s an accomplice, maybe she isn’t. Without evidence, though…”
“Then find it! There has to be evidence, whether she’s an accomplice or not. The victims’ families deserve the truth.”
Gong Yingxian rubbed his temples in exhaustion and nodded. “I’ll keep digging.”
Ren Yi sighed. “At least we’ve got the main culprit now. A month’s work wasn’t in vain.”
“Go home,” Gong Yingxian said, looking at Ren Yi.
“Will you keep me updated?” Ren Yi met his gaze. “Promise you’ll tell me the moment there’s progress, and I’ll leave.”
“Alright.”
Ren Yi kept his eyes on Gong Yingxian, walking backward a few steps before suddenly pausing. “Get more sleep. Your health is your foundation.”
Gong Yingxian froze for a moment.
Ren Yi waved and turned to leave, his back disappearing around the corner of the hallway.
—
On the first day of school, the Phoenix Squad received an unexpected report from a student. Oddly enough, the incident didn’t happen at school, and the student didn’t dial 119; instead, they ran straight to the squad to report a toddler locked in a car by the roadside.
Though autumn had set in, the temperature was still quite hot, and the air inside a sealed car could easily reach forty or fifty degrees. Even an adult would struggle in those conditions, let alone a child.
So, armed with the lightest equipment in squad history, they responded to the closest call in their history—just across the street, carrying nothing but a window-breaking tool.
Two teenagers pointed at a black sedan. “Uncle, it’s that one. We saw it while we were passing by.”
Ren Yi leaned against the car window, peering inside. Sure enough, there was a child, about one or two years old, in a baby seat, crying while chewing on their hand.
“Did anyone leave a phone number or something?” Sun Dingyi walked to the front of the car.
“No damn phone number,” Ren Yi said to Ding Qing. “You distract the kid.”
Ding Qing started tapping on the car window, making silly faces to get the child’s attention.
Meanwhile, Ren Yi circled to the other side, pressed the window breaker to the corner of the glass, and with a sharp snap, the window shattered into pieces.
Reaching inside, Ren Yi unlocked the door. Just as he was about to pull the child out, a loud shout came from behind. “What are you doing!”
Ren Yi turned his head and saw a man sprinting toward them. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Is this your car?” Ren Yi asked, frowning. “Is this your child?”
“Of course, she’s mine!” The man shoved Ren Yi aside, glaring at the shattered car window.
“In this kind of weather, you left an infant in a sealed car?” Ren Yi gritted his teeth and demanded sharply, “Who are you to this child?”
“She’s my daughter!” the man shouted, “I just went to the bathroom for five minutes. Who the hell are you to stick your nose in my business?”
The two students exchanged uneasy glances, nervously watching Ren Yi.
Sun Dingyi pointed to the squad across the street. “We’re firefighters, sir. What you did was incredibly foolish and dangerous. It could have easily led to—”
“Shut the hell up!” the man barked. “I was gone for just five minutes, and you think you care more about my daughter than I do? Do you know how expensive this car is? Who’s going to pay for this window? You? Or your fire department?”
Ren Yi, suppressing his anger, replied, “We broke the window to save your daughter. You’re the one who acted irresponsibly, leaving her in danger. If you had to step out, at least crack the window open.”
“I told you I was just going to the bathroom for a few minutes! What’s the big deal? Look at her, she’s fine, isn’t she?” The man grabbed Ren Yi by the arm. “Now what about my window, huh?”
Sun Dingyi stepped closer, glaring at the man. “Let go of our captain.”
“Oh, captain, huh? You think you’re intimidating me by smashing a window? So what now? Are you going to pay for the damage? If you don’t, I’m calling the police!”
Ren Yi shook off the man’s hand, towering over him. “Go ahead, call the police. We’ll follow proper procedures, and whoever is responsible will pay.”
The man’s face flushed with rage. “Fine, I will! I’m going to report you! I’ll file a complaint!”
Ren Yi turned and walked away, but as he passed the two students, he stopped.
The boys looked at him nervously, as if they’d done something wrong.
In a quiet voice, Ren Yi said, “You did the right thing. If you see someone in need of help again, do the same thing, alright?”
Both boys nodded vigorously.
Back at the station, Sun Dingyi exploded into a tirade, complaining furiously.
Ren Yi was just as furious. He knew that once this reached the police and then circled back to the fire department, he’d have to write a report and face disciplinary action. But he couldn’t swallow his anger over it.
He decided to give Qu Yangbo a heads-up. After all, these things always ended up in Qu Yangbo’s hands. Just as he picked up the phone, it started ringing, and Gong Yingxian’s name appeared on the screen.
Ren Yi’s heart skipped a beat. It had been a week since the interrogation of Cai Wan at the precinct. What was this call about? Was there some progress? Good news, maybe? He answered the phone, feeling a little anxious. “Hello?”
“Captain Ren, the bar fire case is being closed,” Gong Yingxian said without preamble, his voice low and almost strained.
“What? So soon?” Ren Yi asked, surprised. “What did the investigation find? What about Cai Wan and the money?”
“Cai Zhiwei is sticking to his story that he acted alone. Aside from the 300,000, we haven’t found any other money.”
Ren Yi paused, stunned. “You mean, there’s no evidence proving Cai Wan was an accomplice?”
“None.” Gong Yingxian’s words came slowly. “There are small discrepancies in their testimonies, but nothing that can implicate Cai Wan. As long as they both stick to their stories… there’s no way to prove it.”
“No way?” Ren Yi’s anger flared, rising to his throat. “That woman could be responsible for the deaths of twenty-nine people, and you’re just going to let her walk?”
“The higher-ups are pushing to close the case quickly. There’s no solid lead on Cai Wan, but the evidence against Cai Zhiwei is ironclad. Under these circumstances, the squad made a reasonable decision to hand the case over to the prosecutor’s office.” Gong Yingxian let out a long sigh. “The case is closed.”
Ren Yi seethed. “Closed? Just like that? You catch Cai Zhiwei and call it a day? If Cai Wan is an accomplice and she walks free, then what about the victims—”
“I have no choice.” Gong Yingxian’s voice became firm, laced with frustration and anger. “We have procedures, orders, the law. Without evidence, we can’t accuse someone based on instinct or suspicion.” His words conveyed how powerless he felt.
Ren Yi stood rigid, his scalp tingling as conflicting emotions churned inside him.
He knew they couldn’t accuse someone on intuition alone. But what if—just what if—Cai Wan was an accomplice? Would they really let her escape justice?
But what else could they do?
A wave of helplessness washed over Ren Yi, and suddenly, he felt utterly drained. He couldn’t muster another word. In silence, he hung up the phone.
At that moment, Qu Yangbo knocked on the doorframe, leaning against it as he quietly observed Ren Yi.
Ren Yi looked back at him, his expression grim.
“I heard from Sun Dingyi,” Qu Yangbo said calmly. “I’ll handle this. You’re not in the right headspace to be in command right now. Staying here won’t help either. Why not head home for a bit?”
Ren Yi nodded, walking over to Qu Yangbo and giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Thanks for taking care of it.”
Qu Yangbo smiled. “We’re brothers. No need for thanks.”
Ren Yi headed downstairs and made his way home. Qu was right; a commander couldn’t lead with emotions clouding his judgment. He needed to cool off.
When he arrived home, Aunt Wang had just finished preparing a meal. She looked surprised. “Captain Ren, what brings you home so suddenly? You didn’t call ahead. I didn’t make anything for you.”
“No worries, Auntie. I’m not hungry.”
“Wait a bit, I’ll whip up a couple more dishes.”
In the living room, Ren Xiangrong was watching TV. He glanced at Ren Yi. “Why are you back all of a sudden?”
“I’ve been busy lately, so I thought I’d take some time to come see you.” Ren Yi smiled at his father. Every time he stepped through this door, it was like flipping a coin—he never knew whether he’d find his father in a normal state or battling his illness.
Luckily, today his father was lucid.
Ren Xiangrong seemed to notice something was off. “What’s wrong? Something going on at the squad?”
“Just some minor stuff, nothing serious. Yangbo’s handling it.”
“Oh, how’s young Qu doing?”
“He’s doing well.”
“That kid Qu’s something else—smart, emotionally intelligent, just like his dad. He’ll go far.”
“Yeah,” Ren Yi agreed, sitting down beside him. Just exchanging a few casual words like this helped him feel his tension easing, his mind beginning to settle.
That’s the power of home.
The three of them enjoyed a peaceful meal together. Afterward, Aunt Wang cleaned up while Ren Xiangrong and Ren Yi continued talking about squad matters. Ren Yi found himself on the verge of venting to his father—about his frustration, anger, confusion, and sense of injustice. He had no one else he could really open up to, but in the end, he held back. After all, he was an adult now.
Still, Ren Xiangrong sensed something. “Ren Yi, what’s really going on today? Did something happen?”
“Nothing, really,” Ren Yi smiled. “I’ve just been writing reports so much my head hurts.”
“Oh, I hated writing reports too, but you’re an officer now, it comes with the territory,” Ren Xiangrong chuckled. “Count yourself lucky—you get to write on a computer now. Back in my day, everything was handwritten. I’d rather train all day than write reports.”
“Me too, drives me nuts.”
“Hey, let me show you some of the reports I wrote back then.” Ren Xiangrong pointed to the TV cabinet. “Grab those boxes of papers for me.”
“Ah, your treasure trove,” Ren Yi said as he walked over to the cabinet and saw several old shoeboxes. “Which one?”
“I don’t remember. Just bring them all over.”
Ren Yi carried the boxes to the coffee table and set them down.
Ren Xiangrong opened one of the lids. Inside were stacks of yellowed documents, aged by time, filling the box to the brim. He picked up the top sheet. “See, the format back then was different from now. These are copies or drafts—the originals are archived at the fire department. They eventually switched everything to digital.”
Ren Yi picked up one of the reports, glancing over it with a chuckle. “Old Ren, your handwriting is awful. Who could even read this?”
“What’s so hard to read?” Ren Xiangrong gave him a side-eye. “My reports were even used as examples for other squads to study back in the day.”
“That was probably after you became captain.”
Ren Xiangrong laughed and cursed, “Get lost.”
Ren Yi continued rummaging through the other shoeboxes. “I remember you had an album in here too.”
Sure enough, when he opened the third box, it was filled with a few thick photo albums.
“Yeah, you’ve probably seen these when you were a kid.” Ren Xiangrong picked up one of the albums and casually flipped it open. “This photo… ah, which year was this taken?”
Ren Yi glanced at the photo—it was of Ren Xiangrong, leaning against a firetruck, looking even younger than Ren Yi did now.
Ren Yi grabbed an album of his own and started flipping through it slowly. Some photos he recognized from his childhood, while others seemed unfamiliar.
When he reached the last page, what lay between the plastic sheets wasn’t a photograph, but a black-and-white picture cut out from a newspaper. It showed a soot-covered firefighter holding a small child in his arms. Neither of them were looking at the camera; it was clearly a candid shot. The child nestled against the firefighter’s dirty uniform, and the image captured a deeply touching moment.
“Dad, is this you?” Ren Yi asked.
“This…” Ren Xiangrong took the photo, examined it carefully, and nodded, “Yes, I remember.”
“What accident was this? Who reported it? I don’t recall anything.”
“You were boarding at school during that time, so you might not know.” Ren Xiangrong sighed. “That accident was truly tragic.”
“What happened?” Ren Yi glanced at the photo again. Due to the angle, lighting, and the age of the old newspaper, the child’s face wasn’t clear, but he could still tell the child was very cute.
“Do you still remember the Baosheng Chemical Factory?”
“How could I forget?” His father had been buried under the rubble during the Baosheng Chemical Factory explosion. That was also when his father earned a second-class merit for the rescue. He would never forget that.
Ren Xiangrong sighed deeply. “I remember it too, burned into my memory for life.”
Ren Yi patted Ren Xiangrong on the shoulder.
“Less than a year after that chemical factory explosion, I got this assignment.” Ren Xiangrong gently stroked the photo. “This little boy’s house caught on fire. His parents and sister all died. Only he survived.”
Ren Yi frowned deeply, feeling a sense of sadness as he looked at the child in the photo.
“The child was so young, about six or seven. He was especially good-looking, and his family was rich—a big mansion, all burned to ashes. It was such a tragedy.” Ren Xiangrong shook his head.
Ren Yi sighed, “That’s so sad.”
“We found out afterward that it was the boy’s father who started the fire.”
“What?” Ren Yi was shocked. “His dad started the fire?”
Ren Xiangrong nodded.
“Why?!”
“His father was the chairman of the group that owned the Baosheng Chemical Factory. After the explosion, he was under investigation, and the group was on the verge of bankruptcy. At that time, he was out on bail. They said he couldn’t handle the pressure and committed suicide.”
Ren Yi stared blankly at the photo. Just then, his phone chimed—a new message from Gong Yingxian.
He opened it. There were only two words: Thank you.
Gong Yingxian’s handsome yet cold face immediately surfaced in Ren Yi’s mind, but he knew that beneath that exterior, Gong Yingxian’s heart wasn’t unaffected. The case ending this way left even Ren Yi feeling frustrated and angry. How could Gong Yingxian, the one who handled the case personally, be at peace with it?
Ren Yi suddenly regretted losing his temper with Gong Yingxian.
“You were too young back then, probably didn’t pay much attention. But for people of my generation, we all know about this. It was national news.” Ren Xiangrong continued, “That man’s name was Gong Mingyu, I think. So many people died in the factory explosion; it’s hard for anyone to bear that kind of blow. But the child, he was innocent.”
Ren Yi’s attention was still on the message, but the words he caught suddenly made his body tense: “What…”
“Huh?”
“That person, what was his name?”
“Gong Mingyu? I think that’s it. I’m sure about the surname. It’s pretty distinctive.”
A cold chill ran through Ren Yi’s entire body as he stammered, “Which… Gong?”
“The Gong in ‘palace’.”
