The purpose behind my smoking now isn't to make him beg for one, but this action ignites the desire within him; once a man has desire, he is no longer a stone.

A tremor ran through You Qiaolin's rigid face, and I knew I had achieved my aim. I took a hard drag and exhaled forcefully, a long plume of blue smoke rushing forward through the air, rapidly closing the distance between him and me.

I finished the cigarette without uttering a word, and You Qiaolin remained seated, unmoving. This alone demonstrated the strength of his self-control—his heart was as merciless as his cruelty.

“Truthfully, you are already a dead man. I have no reason to press you further. Perhaps after this interrogation, you will soon be escorted to the execution ground, where a single gunshot will send you and me down two separate paths.”

The second lie drifted out silently. In reality, I had no idea when You Qiaolin's execution was scheduled, nor could I decide it. I said this only to build upon the previous tactic: after provoking his desire, I would now cast out the desire to survive. I knew that condemned prisoners, despite knowing their fate is sealed, share a common psychology: to live one more day, if possible. Some death row inmates will even fabricate more crimes to delay the execution, just to cling to existence for a few more days in this world.

At that moment, a low snort escaped You Qiaolin’s nostrils, and then silence descended again.

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. This man had worked in forensics for years. Although he hadn't directly participated in case trials, he lived within that circle and understood much. He had detected the flaw in my words.

However, a lie, once spoken, must be seen through to the end, even if it is exposed, otherwise it becomes a genuine vulnerability. And for a meticulous man like You Qiaolin, a single vulnerability is enough to ensure this interrogation ends in failure.

“I know you are aware of all the procedures, but I can tell you with certainty that your execution is set for half a month from now. This decision has been finalized within the Intermediate Court. Calculate the time for yourself.” The best way to cover a lie is with another, spoken with absolute conviction.

But You Qiaolin seemed utterly unfazed, sitting there like a stiff corpse, his face ashen, his skin dry—perhaps due to the lack of sunlight in the cell. His posture was actually similar to before, but without the silk-framed glasses concealing him, his true face was revealed. His eyes, long hidden, had been staring directly into the intense light, rendering him effectively blind.

Looking at the vacant, unresponsive You Qiaolin, a strange thought suddenly struck me: Was he already dead, which is why he wasn't afraid of dying again?

This thought compelled me to rise and walk slowly before him, leaning slightly over him to peer down coldly.

His eyes were slightly yellowed, as if lacquered, devoid of luster. A faint smell of decay clung to him, the scent of the prison. The only evidence that he was alive was the stubble beginning to emerge on his upper lip, sparse and bristly—hair I hadn't expected to see.

Throughout this, You Qiaolin hadn't moved an inch, not even blinking. He stared straight ahead, as if that spot marked his final destination.

I leaned close to his ear and whispered, “That story was very interesting.” Then I drew back, straightened up, and fixed my gaze upon him.

You Qiaolin’s mouth twitched mechanically twice. It was unclear if he was trying to speak or if his facial muscles were spasming in response to a thought.

“I imagine it’s because the story wasn't well-concluded that you ended up here.”

Having said this, I shifted my gaze to the side, though my peripheral vision remained fixed on him. This question was absolutely critical: I had never mentioned who told me the story. If You Qiaolin had never told that story to Zhang Hemei, his expression would be one of bewilderment. If he had told it, my next sentence would send him spiraling into thought.

If it were the former, I could confirm Zhang Hemei was hiding something major, perhaps even direct involvement in Xiao Xuan’s disappearance and murder.

The reason I approached him to ask was precisely to observe his reaction closely without triggering his defenses.

I waited silently, but You Qiaolin offered no answer, as if he had anticipated my question and already erected a mental and physical firewall.

I felt a degree of disappointment but showed none. I took two steps forward, turning my back to him, composed myself, and then slowly turned back, asking, “When you consumed your wife’s rotting flesh, what did it taste like?”

According to Zhang Hemei, You Qiaolin had done this because he loved his wife too much. I believed this question would touch the deepest part of his soul, causing him to falter.

Indeed, You Qiaolin finally spoke: “It was a taste etched into my bones.”

I hadn't expected him to answer, much less answer so romantically. As I paused, ready to sneer, I heard him continue in a deep, profound voice, “Like you and Lan Jinxuan!”

He knew everything!

The emotion I had suppressed finally erupted. Like a maddened bull, I lunged forward, seized his collar, and snarled fiercely, “Tell me, why did you do it?”

You Qiaolin allowed me to shake him like a dead leaf in a gale. Like that leaf, his face was numb and merciless, entirely unmoved by my frenzy.

“Where did you hide Xiao Xuan’s head?”

My voice became a roar, my gaze sharpening, the grip of my hands tightening. A flush of color actually rose to You Qiaolin’s pale, withered face, as if he were provoking me, encouraging me to continue.

Just then, the door was suddenly shoved open. Two prison guards, alerted by the commotion, rushed in. Seeing my state, they immediately urged, “Comrade, calm down. Interrogate him slowly; don't lose your temper.”

I snapped back to reality, released my grip, and stepped back through gritted teeth. A clear expression of smug satisfaction crossed You Qiaolin’s withered face. He had defeated me once again, just as he always had.

I slumped back into the chair and told the two guards, “Take him away. I’m tired.”

The guards lowered You Qiaolin from the specially reinforced wooden chair and reapplied his handcuffs. One of them said to me, “Comrade, go rest. It’s not worth your rage for trash like this.” With a shove, he propelled You Qiaolin forward and barked, “Go!”

You Qiaolin shuffled towards the door, the heavy iron shackles clanging rhythmically. I watched his receding back powerlessly, a nameless terror suddenly seizing my heart.

As I raised my head for one last look at his retreating form, I saw—he was grinning at me, a sinister, sidelong smile...

A chilling cold locked onto me completely, freezing every muscle, like falling into hell itself.

In that moment of paralyzing shock, You Qiaolin vanished beyond the doorframe, leaving behind only the sharp, crisp sound of metal.

What was he laughing about?

A question that made my blood run cold erupted from the depths of my soul.

What was he laughing at?

Could this entire thing have been his meticulous design? Had he intentionally let Zhang Hemei tell me the story so that I would use it to catch him? Was everything still within the confines of his game, and even while imprisoned, was I still just a pawn in his hands?

My heart plummeted, sinking into an endless abyss.

That day, I couldn't recall how I left the detention center or how I returned to the precinct. My mind and memory were trapped in that terrifying smile. What was he laughing at?

Only later, when I finally regained clarity, did I understand his laughter. But by then, it was too late.

While I was lost in the horror of You Qiaolin’s smile, an irritating figure appeared in the office, shattering my train of thought and forcing me to stare.

Wang Xuyang was standing diagonally opposite me, swinging his legs, openly flirting with Feng Siyan. When he saw me look over, he casually tossed his head and said, “Hey! Brother Lei, got something to say?”

I truly admired this man who wore shamelessness like a badge of honor, yet I was puzzled why he was here again. Wasn't Hongyang as strict as the rumors claimed?

At this point, Gao Jianning’s pitiable gaze turned toward me, a picture of utter heartbreak. It seemed he had been here for a while, but I had been spacing out and hadn't noticed.

Seeing my brother in distress, I, as his cousin, naturally had to step in. I beckoned Wang Xuyang over: “Come here, I have a few words for you.”

“Comrades should maintain distance. This is the best way to talk,” Wang Xuyang knew I disliked him, and his slight frame wasn't in the same league as mine, so he wisely kept his distance.

This guy was too slippery. I decided to be blunt: “Then listen carefully. Our Special Operations Bureau is extremely busy; no one has time to chat with you. If you have business, state it. If not, leave quickly.”

Anyone else hearing that would have turned and left, but Wang Xuyang wasn't a normal person; his mind worked quickly too. He shot back, “I have business, otherwise why would I be here? Do you think my monthly salary is for leisure? I'm a police officer, responsible for maintaining long-term peace and stability in this area.”

Feng Siyan sat quietly the entire time, staring at her computer screen, as if our conversation had nothing to do with her. In truth, if it weren't for her, none of this would have happened.

I winked at Gao Jianning, signaling him to make the first move, and I would flank him later. This way, I could not only put the guy to shame but also allow Gao Jianning to establish a heroic image in Feng Siyan’s eyes.

Unfortunately, Gao Jianning held it in for so long that his face nearly turned red before he finally asked gently, “What is your business?”

I was so irritated I drained my cup of tea. This kid usually threw all sorts of tricks at me, but he couldn't utter a sound to outsiders? Was it because Feng Siyan was present that he felt the need to maintain gentlemanly conduct? I needed to have a serious talk with him, lest he be crowned a gentleman while someone else is crowned a husband.

Wang Xuyang completely ignored Gao Jianning’s question, not taking him seriously at all. He swung a leg and addressed Feng Siyan, “Beautiful, let’s grab tea after work today. I know a new place nearby; I hear the atmosphere is quite good.”

I was about to unleash a volley of sharp kicks, but I stopped when I heard his invitation, wanting to see Feng Siyan’s reaction. If this girl was genuinely interested in a loser like Wang Xuyang, she would never give a guy like Gao Jianning a second look. I needed to gauge her true feelings before deciding how to proceed. Otherwise, if she ended up with Wang Xuyang, wouldn't they team up—a double-bladed attack against me?

Feng Siyan’s expression remained icy, but she shook her head and said, “Go by yourself. I have things to do.”

I loved hearing that. Although Feng Siyan’s frosty demeanor usually made her seem a bit haughty, her current expression was undeniably a pleasant surprise.

Wang Xuyang showed no sign of embarrassment. He performed a strange little body contortion, and when it finished, he had moved from the wall to Feng Siyan’s desk, his dangling leg having shifted from left to right. I began to suspect this guy might be a spy sent by the Japanese—this was clearly a high-level ninjutsu.

Wang Xuyang continued, “Work is never done. Rest is the guarantee of high-quality work. Oh, look at you, you’ve only been in the Special Operations Bureau a few days and you already have fine lines on your forehead. That’s simply barbaric.”

Whatever her other qualities, any woman places her appearance first. Although Feng Siyan was cold to others, she certainly wouldn't be that way to herself. Otherwise, how could that exquisite face maintain its morning dew-like perfection every day?

She raised a hand to touch her forehead, but that was all. Then she said blandly, “Is that so?”

I thought, Not good. With Wang Xuyang’s skill, once he engaged someone in conversation, he would deploy countless tricks until the goddess dropped her heavy armor and turned into a demure woman, easily led astray by him—perhaps even starting to flaunt her fair legs everywhere, just like him.

The thought of Feng Siyan parading around showing off her legs instantly solidified my resolve. For this reason alone, it was enough to make me want to annihilate this Wang Xuyang.

I spoke without courtesy: “Wang Xuyang, I think you should apply for a transfer to the Special Operations Bureau to save yourself the tiresome running up and down all day.”

“Brother Lei is wise, but our Hong Group is wiser,” Wang Xuyang blurted out.

Hmm, there was hidden meaning in his words, which immediately confused me. I glared at him: “You better explain yourself immediately, or I’ll make you exit through that window.”

Wang Xuyang grinned slyly: “Because I'm here today to report to the Special Operations Bureau. According to higher instructions, starting today, I'm being transferred here.”

I pointed at his nose: “You…” but no further words came out.

What was this game? Were they trying to make the Bureau more chaotic by transferring this pest, or was Hongyang pulling a fast one?

Wang Xuyang bowed elegantly: “Brother Lei, I’ll be relying on your guidance from now on.”

“Go, go, stop using that Japanese girl routine.” My eyes darted, and a plan formed. “Since you’re part of the Special Operations Bureau now, you must follow our rules. Otherwise, don’t blame us for being merciless.” I puffed out my cheeks and glared at him fiercely.

“This little brother understands. Just give the orders.”

“Serve tea first—one cup for everyone!”

Under the pressure of my imposing demeanor, Wang Xuyang had no choice but to scurry off to make tea. Gao Jianning gave me a thumbs-up. I shot him a glare back and whispered, “Can’t you be a little more manly?”

Feng Siyan was right there. I glanced at her as I spoke. I saw her fingers tremble slightly, though her face remained impassive.

Just then, the phone rang. It was Xiao Cuo.

“Brother Lei, uh, well, I was wondering if I could borrow some money?”

Xiao Cuo’s voice sounded anxious. I quickly walked outside, pausing by the water bucket to tell Wang Xuyang, “Use less tea leaves; that’s mine.”

Outside the door, I asked, “What’s wrong? How much do you need?”

“Five thousand, please, Brother Lei. My sister is sick. I’ll pay you back half my salary every month from now on.”

I quickly calculated my savings—around twenty thousand left. “I’ll give you eight thousand. Make sure your sister’s illness is completely cured; don’t leave any lingering issues.”

“Brother Lei, thank you so much, I... I...”

“Hey, we’re brothers. Don’t talk like that. Send me your account number later, and I’ll transfer it when I have time.”

“Yes, yes! Thank you, Brother Lei. I’ll write you an IOU when I get back.”

I hung up the phone, feeling surprisingly pleased. I had always wanted to help Xiao Cuo, and now I finally had the chance.

Pushing the door open, I saw Wang Xuyang had just finished making the tea—one cup had nearly overflowed with leaves. It seemed this kid wasn't entirely harmless; I would need to keep suppressing him in the future.

Xiao Cuo’s text message arrived. I let Wang Xuyang off for the moment, noted down the account number, and then told Gao Jianning, “I’m stepping out briefly, I’ll be right back. Call me if anything happens.” I left amidst his helpless gaze.

After transferring the money at the external ATM, I called Zhang Jiewei and told him about Wang Xuyang. Zhang Jiewei immediately voiced his opposition over the phone—it seemed this nuisance was universally disliked.

However, before I even made it back to the precinct, Zhang Jiewei called back, his tone noticeably changed: “Wang Lei, this transfer was approved by the leadership. Elder Jiang also agreed. It’s mainly because the Special Operations Bureau currently has arduous tasks and a shortage of personnel, so Wang Xuyang was moved over. Although we have personal reservations, we must obey the organization’s arrangement.”