Yi Jiayi lifted her head, her face not showing the guilt and grievance Guo Yongyao expected.
He had a flash of insight and quickly said:
“Is this all Fang Zhenyue’s scheme? To publicly state that the mainland guy isn’t the killer, so when he sees the report and arrogantly thinks he has escaped the law, he’ll let his guard down, and then your team B can strike together and catch him?”
The more Guo Yongyao thought about it, the more it seemed plausible. Fang Zhenyue was just that kind of lawless person who would do anything to solve a case.
He stomped his foot in frustration, feeling used and completely fooled by Fang Zhenyue.
“I knew it! Why else would Fang Zhenyue let someone from his own team attend the press conference? He’s using your harmless appearance to lower my guard. Really… Even if you want to solve a case, you can’t drag me down with you. This is risking my career and the reputation of the police force…”
“…” Yi Jiayi was dizzy from Sir Guo’s wild ideas, and while sighing that Sir Fang really didn’t have a good reputation among his police colleagues, she shook her head to clarify for Fang Zhenyue:
“It wasn’t Sir Fang’s idea, I said it on my own.”
“…” Guo Yongyao’s lips parted slightly, frowning at Yi Jiayi, suddenly unsure of what to say, “If the case is solved, if—”
“There are no ifs, Sir Guo, I won’t make things difficult for you, nor will I trap you. The case will definitely be solved, and the mainland guy definitely won’t be the killer.” Yi Jiayi suddenly smiled again, adding: “At least he won’t be the killer in the Ferry Street dismemberment case.”
“Are you that sure?” Guo Yongyao frowned.
After finishing in the restroom, Lin Wangjiu wiped the water droplets from his hands with a paper towel and said, “Sir Guo, Team B has already obtained compelling evidence proving that the mainland guy is not the murderer. You can rest easy.”
With that, he nodded towards Yi Jiayi and said, “Let’s go, number eleven.”
“Mm,” Yi Jiayi politely bid farewell to Guo Yongyao, “Sir Guo, goodbye.”
Today was probably the only and last time in her life that she would appear on TV. After this, Sir Guo would definitely not invite her to a press conference again.
Guo Yongyao watched silently as Lin Wangjiu and Yi Jiayi walked out, grabbing a bottle of mineral water that hadn’t been cleared from the table and taking a big gulp:
“I hope you really are a foolproof lucky star, and that you can bring me some luck too.”
…
On the way back, Yi Jiayi sat in Uncle Jiu’s old sedan.
She buckled up and sat quietly, occasionally sneaking glances at Uncle Jiu.
Today, Uncle Jiu was unusually taciturn. Usually, he had many complaints, as if nothing pleased his eye.
He would complain about Hong Kong’s traffic when stopped at a red light; scold pedestrians who didn’t follow rules, saying they had a death wish; get angry over the hot weather, blaming it on people driving too many cars and using too much air conditioning.
But today, Uncle Jiu said nothing, not even shouting at someone who overtook his car, whom he would typically scold for not following traffic rules.
Sensing that his mood was off, Yi Jiayi didn’t dare to ask.
Just as she started to wonder if Uncle Jiu was also upset with her for speaking out of turn at the press conference, Uncle Jiu suddenly made a right turn at an intersection and pulled over to the curb.
“?” Yi Jiayi widened her eyes and looked around, unable to recognize the place, which didn’t seem to be in the area Sir Fang and his team were searching.
Lin Wangjiu rested his right arm on the car window and held the steering wheel with his left hand, gazing out at the scenery on the right side, and suddenly let out a long, long sigh.
The atmosphere grew even stranger. Yi Jiayi turned to look at Uncle Jiu, considering whether she should say something.
Finally, Lin Wangjiu turned his head back to look at Yi Jiayi. Contrary to what Yi Jiayi expected, there was no reproach in his eyes, but rather… a strange emotion.
It was like a mix of pity and sympathy.
His gaze was bitter and sour, looking at her, yet it seemed to see through her, reminiscing about someone from his memories.
“Over a decade ago, I worked for the Organized Crime Unit, focusing on anti-gang and drug enforcement, handling major organized cases. I was bursting with energy, spending all day chasing gangsters, feeling quite formidable,” Uncle Jiu suddenly began, a smile unconsciously forming as he reminisced about his younger days. “Back then, we all used to cultivate informants. Sometimes, you’d come across a crucial informant who could help crack big cases that had stumped many for a long time. Catching a big fish who had always managed to evade us.
“I met a young man in Kowloon City, about four or five years younger than me. Xi Ming had been a bright student as a child, from a very poor household—his walls were plastered with award certificates.
“He was really smart, and his dream was to become a top lawyer.”
As Uncle Jiu spoke in his gentle cadence, Jiayi gradually relaxed into the passenger seat, listening quietly to his stories from the past.
“But then his mother fell seriously ill, and his father spent all their savings on her treatment, but to no avail. Xi Ming’s mother had a chronic illness that was costly to treat, and without medication, she would die. Unable to bear seeing his wife suffer, his father went out to the village entrance and hanged himself.
“After burying his father, Xi Ming dropped out of school and took odd jobs to pay for his mother’s medical expenses. However, earning money was slow, and his mother was still dying. Gradually, he strayed onto the wrong path and started working as a stable boy.”
Lin Wang Jiu pulled out a cigarette, clamped it between his lips, glanced at the delicate young woman sitting beside him, and then tucked the cigarette behind his ear:
“The anti-prostitution squad arrested him a few times, but he had no other path left.
“Later, during an operation by our unit, Xi Ming happened to be there, and I caught him too. After talking to him, I felt his nature wasn’t bad. We talked in depth several times, gambled on horse races together, smoked Marlboro cigarettes, drank Blue Girl beer, and ate stinky tofu from Wan Chai’s Cheung Chau Delicious Food. The fried crust was crispy and drenched in plenty of sweet and spicy sauces. I always complained it wasn’t stinky enough, but it was really tasty. With each bite, the crust broke and the juices burst in your mouth, endlessly delightful… Eventually, Xi Ming became my informant.”
Jiayi’s mouth watered as Uncle Jiu described the flavors. She had tried various styles and colors of stinky tofu but had never experienced the Hong Kong style.
Wanted to eat.
“A year and a half later, we had a major operation. All police in Hong Kong were ready to be deployed at any moment, and we all wore bulletproof vests even while eating and sleeping. We did this for half a month without any progress. The pressure was immense on the inspectors, and we were nearly at our limit.
“At that time, all of us were contacting our informants, trying every possible means to gather some useful firsthand information.
“Xi Ming gave me a crucial tip at that point, which was extremely vital.
“However, following this lead meant deploying the entire team. If successful, it could be a major breakthrough; if not, it could put everyone in danger.
“I was confident the information was accurate, but the inspector was worried about potential risks and wanted to wait. But I couldn’t wait—there was a clear opportunity right before us. Eventually, under my strong insistence, we mobilized that night.”
Jiayi’s heart raced, but Uncle Jiu suddenly fell silent.
He seemed lost in his memories, unable to extricate himself for a long while before continuing, his speech inadvertently slowing down:
“I got shot and lost two toes, broke my shin, and fractured two ribs.”
“My teammates were all injured, and my best partner was extremely unlucky. When he raised his arm, his bulletproof vest lifted as well, and a bullet exploded one of his kidneys, causing internal bleeding. He was nearly beyond saving.”
“…” Yi Jiayi had just relaxed her body in the seat for a short while before tensing up again.
“It was then that the inspector recorded a major fault, and for many years there was no chance of promotion. My teammate, due to physical reasons, could no longer stay on the front line and went to Kwai Chung to work as a cook. I was demoted, transferred from plainclothes back to uniform, and roamed the streets for 6 years.”
Lin Wangjiu gently wiped his face and finally turned to look at Yi Jiayi:
“The clue given by Xi Ming was fake; it was a trap at the time, a demonstration of force by the gang when they were desperate.”
“What happened to Xi Ming after that?” Yi Jiayi furrowed her brows, her eyes misty.
“He disappeared. His mother died in a dilapidated house. When our people got there and opened the door, it was full of flies and a foul stench.”
Lin Wangjiu gave a bitter smile, calmed his emotions for a while, then spoke softly to Yi Jiayi:
“Yi Jia, you are new to this line of work, still clean and innocent like a blank sheet, with a rich sense of sympathy and mission, a good kid.”
“But the people in this world, they are too complicated. They might not respond to your kindness. Xi Ming might be dead, might have been threatened, or might hate everyone due to his mother’s death, but in any case…”
“Before protecting the citizens, your primary duty is to protect yourself.”
“As a police officer, especially in the CID, you must always remember to be rational, objective, and fair.”
“Even, if necessary, to be indifferent.”
Yi Jiayi looked at Uncle Ji as if seeing his eyes pleading for help, as if seeing the wrinkles on his face yearning for an embrace, comfort, and forgiveness.
She nodded firmly, “I understand, Uncle Ji.”
This was the most frequent advice Uncle Ji had given her since she joined the Major Case Unit.
And it was a rare heartfelt moment from Uncle Ji, who usually complained and was critical of everything.
Lin Wangjiu took a deep breath, started the car, and Yi Jiayi added, “Uncle Ji, thank you.”
He turned back to look at her, smiled, and said no more.
The sedan turned around and resumed its earlier journey.
Yi Jiayi watched the cars speeding unusually fast on the road and the pedestrians walking swiftly on the sidewalk, then withdrew her gaze and spoke again:
“Uncle Ji, people can trust the wrong person. But there are still more trustworthy people in the world, just like how you trust Brother Yue to handle everything for us.”
At a red light, Lin Wangjiu slowly braked, turning his head to look at the young policewoman.
“The mainland guy really isn’t the murderer, he’s innocent, and you can trust me on this too.” Yi Jiayi’s shoulders and back were rigid, her eyes bright and intense.
Lin Wangjiu chuckled softly, finally finding his way back to his usual self:
“A carbon copy of Fang Zhenyue, the same stubborn temper.”
It’s like honesty turned into stubbornness personified.