When Yi Jiayi arrived at Zhao Dongsheng’s company with Xu Shaowei, Uncle Jiu and Liu Jiaming were already there.
Upon seeing her with Xu Shaowei, both of them toned down their friendly demeanor, instead adopting a more respectful attitude, referring to her as “Sister Eleven”.
Jiayi knew both were afraid Xu Shaowei might not show her enough reverence, and they were aiding her in establishing her authority.
Feeling a warm sense of gratitude, Jiayi listened in as Uncle Jiu and Liu Jiaming questioned others, taking notes all the while. Once they left, she began a second round of inquiries with Xu Shaowei, focusing more on Zhao Dongsheng’s competitors.
They soon gathered some leads.
For instance, Zhao Dongsheng was the absolute controller of the company, a chairman with overwhelming power; it was unlikely anyone within the company could challenge him. The vice-presidents wouldn’t be foolish enough to vie for power, especially given the chairman’s strong desire to control.
Another piece of information revealed that Zhao Dongsheng was competing with a leather business for a piece of land in Clear Water Bay Peninsula. Both chairmen valued the peninsula’s potential as a new upscale community, planning to develop it extensively before selling it to the emerging tycoons of Hong Kong who had not managed to buy villas in the old peak district and had money burning a hole in their pockets.
The owner of the leather business, Zhou Xinhui, 39, had a past in organized crime but had since gone legitimate, amassing a fortune which he now hoped to invest in the lucrative Hong Kong real estate market.
According to Zhao Dongsheng’s subordinates, Zhou Xinhui was a ruthless and brutal thug.
After making some notes and asking a series of genuine and misleading questions, Jiayi left with Xu Shaowei.
Before boarding the tram, Jiayi turned to Xu and asked, “Besides Zhou Xinhui, do you know who else is Zhao Dongsheng’s competitor?”
Xu paused, deep in thought about Zhou Xinhui’s situation, pondering how he would plan to eliminate Zhao Dongsheng if he were Zhou.
Caught off-guard by her question, he hesitated before shaking his head:
“Who else could it be?”
“Think about it,” Jiayi urged. “The competition among men.”
“Zhao Dongsheng has childhood friends who are fiercely competitive. ‘Why should you succeed when we grew up together?'” Xu frowned again; he hadn’t come across such information during the earlier interviews.
What other kind of competition could there be among men?
Jiayi looked at Xu quizzically, wondering if he was just a straightforward man focused solely on competition and cases, oblivious to romance and finer emotions.
She had given him a hint, yet he was still talking about things like ‘Why is now Tiezhu still a farmer while Goudan becomes a big boss?’…
“Also, there’s Director Zhang Jing who is competing with Zhao Dongsheng for the affections of the newcomer actress Gu Xiaolan. Isn’t competing for a lady’s love also being a competitor?” Jiayi glanced at the approaching tram. As Xu Shaowei courteously let her board first, she grasped the handrail and stepped up, settling by the window on the first level.
Xu Shaowei followed her onto the tram, glanced at the seat beside her, hesitated, and then chose to sit behind her instead.
Jiayi felt an odd discomfort—there was clearly a seat next to her, yet he chose to sit behind her. This sensation of being watched from behind was strange, especially since he decided not to sit next to her.
Was it because she maintained a stern and professional demeanor to be taken seriously despite her youthful appearance, making her seem too standoffish, causing his dislike or even rebellious feelings?
The air in Hong Kong was slightly chilly. Outside the window, plants stretched out from the high-rise buildings, most of them still lush green.
With the recent warming, the streets saw young women in short skirts again. Sweaters and T-shirts coexisted, showcasing diverse fashion styles, reflecting the city’s inclusivity.
Suddenly, Xu Shaowei leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Should we now go question Director Zhang Jing?”
When Xu Shaowei suddenly spoke so close behind her, Jiayi felt a chill run down her spine.
This feeling of a not-so-familiar person speaking in a low voice right behind her was truly unpleasant.
She slightly furrowed her brow, leaned forward to create some distance, and then turned around to speak in a more conciliatory tone, “Why don’t you sit next to me instead?”
Xu Shaowei met her gentle gaze, hesitated for a moment, then stood up and moved to sit beside her. During the process, he unconsciously touched the gun at his waist and sniffed before sitting down.
But his posture was very stiff; he sat with his legs together, hands flat on his thighs, staring straight ahead.
The uneasy feeling in Jiayi faded, replaced by a mix of amusement and frustration.
Really? Did he come out of a monastery? This overly cautious behavior made it seem as if she were some enchantress.
She was teaming up with him for work, and her mind was entirely focused on clues and leading the team effectively. Why was his reaction like this?
How could there still be such an odd fellow in Hong Kong? Could it be that someone had advised him to keep his distance from a female superior, not to offend her?
She shook her head, puzzled.
“Regarding Director Zhang Jing, Uncle Jiu and the others will investigate Zhao Dongsheng’s rumored affair with the actress Gu Xiaolan during their inquiries. We can wait for their initial round of investigations to finish, then use the information they provide to make further follow-up assessments. This way, we can avoid redundant efforts and improve efficiency.”
Jiayi withdrew her gaze, ensuring there were no other patrons around, before she explained softly:
“That’s why we’re going to meet Chairman Zhou Xinhui at Xinhui Leather Company now. Once we’re there, you don’t need to say anything, just keep a straight face and follow my lead. Understand?”
“Why?” Xu Shaowei finally turned to look at her, his brow furrowing slightly, seemingly unhappy with her restricting him from speaking as if underestimating him.
“Because I have my own rhythm when questioning. The coherence among the questions is important. For example, my first question might not be because I want an answer to it, but rather to set a natural, unforced context for the second question, which helps the respondent lower their guard.”
“Also, I use certain techniques to influence the respondent’s emotions when I ask questions. If you interrupt, my approach might fail.”
“If I didn’t communicate this to you, and you listened to my questions without this understanding, you might think I’m just asking irrelevant questions and wasting time. If you, as a detective, become impatient or fail to understand, it might even cause the respondent to become defensive.”
“OK?”
While explaining, Jiayi experienced the challenges of mentoring a newcomer.
She realized that conflicts inherent in superior-subordinate relationships are not only about subordinates being cautious around their superiors, but also about superiors constantly monitoring their own attitudes to avoid misunderstandings and discouraging their subordinates’ enthusiasm and confidence.
Back when Jiayi was a student, she thought being a teacher or a leader must be great because they seemed to have a lot of freedom.
After she joined the Yau Ma Tei Police Station and learned from Sister Yin, and later joined Team B, she envied the ease with which leaders directed operations.
Now she understood that being a leader wasn’t about doing whatever one wishes or being imperiously commanding.
She recalled how Sister Yin and Brother Yue, as leaders, not only taught her but also made her feel valued and recognized. She never felt oppressed or arbitrarily commanded, instead feeling cared for and appreciated every day. How fortunate she was.
In just a few months, she had good superiors.
However, compared to Xu Shaowei, Jiayi felt she was more compliant.
Maybe it’s because people from Hong Kong grow up in a maritime culture, inherently possessing an unrestrained, pirate-like spirit. In contrast, her soul, rooted in mainland China decades later and steeped in over a decade of rote learning, might be more prone to conformity and acceptance?
After hearing Jiayi’s explanation, Xu Shaowei finally nodded and quietly responded, “Yes, madam.”
Jiayi breathed a sigh of relief. The tram swayed gently, lulling the sleep-deprived young policewoman to near sleep, but fortunately, their destination wasn’t far off, and they arrived just as she was about to doze off.
As soon as the car stopped, Xu Shaowei stood up, but instead of rushing to exit, he stepped back in the aisle, allowing Yi Jiayi to go first.
It was unclear whether this was a gesture of “ladies first” or respect for a superior. After quickly stepping out, Yi Jiayi turned back only to find herself eye-level with Xu Shaowei’s feet.
She noticed that his outward-pointing feet were asymmetrical; his right foot turned out, while his left foot pointed straight ahead. To say he was pigeon-toed was somewhat inaccurate; he was only half pigeon-toed.
Walking through the streets and before entering the office building, Yi Jiayi confirmed once more with Xu Shaowei, who assured her he would definitely follow orders. Then, she led him inside.
Imitating Brother Yue’s demeanor, she put on a stern face, and together with Xu Shaowei’s fierce expression, they formed a duo of formidable presence.
The receptionist, after checking their IDs, did not dare to stop them but instead led them to the waiting room and served them tea before going to announce their arrival.
Yi Jiayi and Xu Shaowei waited for three or four minutes before the receptionist returned to respectfully usher them into the chairman’s office on the top floor.
Zhou Xinhui knew how to enjoy himself; his office was spacious, with ample room behind the large desk. He sat in his office chair, which upon swiveling revealed floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a fountain and small garden in front of the office building, offering a splendid view.
The arrangement of the office seemed deliberately designed; Zhou’s chair was notably higher, while the two chairs for guests were considerably lower.
Separated by a dark, thick wooden desk, this setup placed Zhou in a commanding position from above.
Once Yi Jiayi sat down, she realized that to see Zhou, she had to lean back and look up over the large desk. Not only did this make her feel rather small, but it also made Zhou appear distant, lofty, and mysterious.
This was probably one of the subtler tactics of the ’emperor’s art of business’: using “terrain,” seating arrangements, and decorative details to subconsciously exert pressure on visitors and reporting subordinates, instilling in them an awe of the office’s occupant.
Having subtly recognized all this, Yi Jiayi composed herself, sitting up straight and slightly tilting her head up to counteract the atmosphere created by the office. When meeting Zhou’s gaze, she managed her expression to be calm and slightly furrowed her brow, cultivating an appropriate sense of authority.
He might have his strategies, but she had her ways of bridging the gap.
In police interrogation courses, she had also learned well the art of psychological pressure!
After Yi Jiayi and Xu Shaowei sat down opposite Zhou Xinhui, Zhou exhibited a kind of humble demeanor that seemed overly shrewd.
He made it a point to stand up and shake hands with Yi Jiayi and Xu Shaowei, displaying an exaggerated friendliness and cooperation.
However, when Jiayi began asking questions, although Zhou answered with a smile and responded to every query, he consistently spoke evasively.
He was an old hand at deflecting, skilled in the art of verbal Tai Chi. You couldn’t fault him, but getting information from him was no easy task.
Drawing on her interrogation skills, Jiayi recalled what Brother Yue had once advised about dealing with people who feigned cooperation but were actually cunningly elusive. Although she felt this individual was tough to crack, she maintained her composure, methodically checking off one question after another.
“When was the last time you saw Zhao Dongsheng?” asked Jiayi.
“About a month and a half ago, I guess,” Zhou replied. “We were at a gathering with friends from the circle, sitting down together for a meal. They wanted to persuade him to give up on the Clear Water Bay Peninsula land, but he wasn’t very accommodating. However, I’m a person who values friendship. A gentleman doesn’t fight over what others love. Since he was so adamant, as if he couldn’t live without that land, I just let him have it,” Zhou explained with a shrug and a hearty laugh.
“As for me, I’m in the leather business. Real estate is something I venture into when the opportunity arises. If I find the right spot, I buy it, build something grand, and contribute to Hong Kong’s development. If not, then I wait for the next chance. Right, madam?”
“What is the biggest recent project for Xinhui Leather?” Jiayi suddenly shifted the topic.
Caught off guard, Zhou, who had prepared for any topic the two officers might bring up, hadn’t expected a direct inquiry about his company’s operations.
As a chairman, he wasn’t used to being questioned about his business from a position of authority. It took him several seconds to respond with a smile:
“We’re planning to open a leather goods furniture city in Mong Kok, currently scouting for a location. Madam, I won’t hide it from you, I am an ambitious man. I always think, one day, all the leather business in Hong Kong will be mine. The leather jacket you wear, the leather shoes you step in, the leather sofa you sit on, the leather bag you carry—if all these could be produced from my factory, I’d be satisfied.”
“You already have a small shoe city in Mong Kok, and opening a leather goods furniture city is just another small project for you. With your current financial status, this furniture city is merely a casual venture. With substantial funds at your disposal, you’ve expressed in various financial interviews that you won’t invest in the stock market, believing that real estate is the industry with the highest future returns.”
After finishing, Jiayi leaned back slightly, exuding a sense of confidence and control.
As she tilted her head and smiled at Zhou Xinhui, she appeared to be masterfully orchestrating the conversation, everything seemingly under her control.
Xu Shaowei, who had been intently observing Zhou, unconsciously turned his gaze towards Yi Jiayi.
Off-duty, this young officer did not seem very aggressive, often giving off a friendly, gentle, and neighborly vibe.
Yet, in the midst of interrogation, faced with a tough subject, she was neither daunted nor subdued by Zhou’s cunning tactics or imposing presence.
On the contrary, she was as resilient as the most vigorous wild grass. No matter how the east wind blew or pressed down, she would quickly raise her head high, standing firm against the wind, her stems and leaves flaunting boldly.
Such a person, even without the protection of others, could break through the hardest soil and live freely.
Xu Shaowei couldn’t help but recall when he set off from the Central District Police Station, preparing to meet with Yi Jiayi. Just as he was leaving, he encountered a detective named Tan Sanfu.
Upon seeing his badge, Tan stopped him to confirm if he was Xu Shaowei, the military-uniformed police officer going with Yi Jiayi to make inquiries.
After he confirmed, Tan Sanfu sized him up thoroughly and then, furrowing his brows fiercely, stared at him and stretched out two fingers, pointing first at his eyes and then at his own, intimidatingly saying:
“Be proper and polite with Yi Jiayi, show her respect, understand?”
Could he be anything but respectful?
Officer Yi handled her duties methodically—demanding his fierceness, prohibiting interruptions, urging him to observe more and think more, and even testing him after their inquiries, clearly outlining his responsibilities.
He might have felt somewhat resentful initially, given her youth and attractiveness. But after all, she was a formal senior officer in CID, now truly displaying professionalism and capability, and he had since become calm and composed.
He really didn’t need reminders or intimidation.
With this thought, Xu Shaowei sat up even straighter, his gaze shifting back to the wealthy Zhou Xinhui, now with an even fiercer look.
Once he was officially transferred to Team B, he was curious to see how he would compare with Tan Sanfu, to see who was truly stronger.
Thinking this, he habitually touched the sidearm at his waist, his gaze deepening further.
Zhou Xinhui, already slightly uncomfortable with Yi Jiayi’s detailed exposition, suddenly met Xu Shaowei’s icy stare, feeling an indescribable unease rise within him.
“What’s the meaning of this, madam, are you checking up on me?” His smile lost some of its warmth, turning slightly hostile.
Watching the change in his expression, Yi Jiayi’s demeanor also became somewhat strange.
She nodded slightly, and instead of answering directly, she countered:
“A person convinced that real estate is the most profitable business would surely not have given up the land in Clear Water Bay Peninsula if they had already found another valuable piece of land to pursue.”
“You said your last meeting with Zhao Dongsheng was half a month ago, meaning you decided to let Zhao have the land in Clear Water Bay Peninsula and stop competing then. How could a major boss sit idle in his office for half a month without planning the next steps for his business?”
“In my view, there is no such thing as a chairman who idles his days away.”
“When I asked you what your most important project is, you didn’t mention scouting new land. This only suggests one thing: you haven’t given up on the piece of land in Clear Water Bay Peninsula.”
“You haven’t abandoned that land, yet you haven’t taken any new measures to compete with Zhao Dongsheng. Why?”
As Jiayi spoke these words, she stared intently at Zhou Xinhui’s expression.
Half of her statements were speculative assumptions. The reason she spoke so confidently, presenting herself as if she had irrefutable proof, wasn’t really about accusing Zhou Xinhui, but rather to bluff him.
Thus, at this moment, his facial expressions and reactions were crucial for her to see clearly.
This was a rare opportunity to judge whether he was truly connected to Zhao Dongsheng’s death.
Tycoon Zhou Xinhui, faced with Yi Jiayi’s seemingly flawless logic and questioning, was slightly taken aback. He struggled to find holes in her statements, hoping to prove she was merely bluffing.
Yet, her expression, tone, and words appeared so impeccable that his initially relaxed mood began to tense up.
When Yi Jiayi and Xu Shaowei walked in, Zhou Xinhui almost breathed a sigh of relief.
A young woman, she seemed like a detective who climbed the ranks through networking, just like some of the pretty women in his company who advanced faster than others by employing certain tactics—strong in charm but ridiculously lacking in ability.
Even if she was a detective celebrated in newspapers, in the eyes of this self-proclaimed strongman tycoon, she was merely a PR stunt by the police force, an exaggeration.
Xu Shaowei, despite his fierce demeanor, seemed to be merely posturing in the eyes of this seasoned businessman.
But after a few trivial questions, Jiayi suddenly sharpened her attack, hitting some nerves and striking Zhou’s eyes.
He slightly furrowed his brows, locking eyes with Yi Jiayi. Although a smile still hung on his face, there was no hint of mirth in his eyes.
“Indeed, madam, why drag in all these unrelated topics?” he deftly countered, leaning back and settling into a relaxed posture as if he had all the time in the world.
Jiayi, observing his strained expression and defensive body language, knew her ‘provocation technique’ had worked.
This Mr. Zhou definitely knew something, even if he wasn’t directly responsible for Zhao Dongsheng’s death.
“Because Mr. Zhou knows that you don’t need to compete with Zhao Dongsheng—Zhao Dongsheng will withdraw from this dispute on his own,” Jiayi suddenly leaned forward, elbows on the table, her gaze intensely fixed on Zhou, pressing him:
“How can a dead man compete with a living one over a piece of land?”
“Boss Zhou, you’ve known all along that Zhao Dongsheng was going to die. So, for the past half month, you’ve remained unchanging amidst all changes, just waiting for the news of Zhao Dongsheng’s death.”
Zhou Xinhui’s eyelids twitched, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
“Boss Zhou, who is clearing the obstacles for you?” Jiayi slightly tilted her chin up, facing Zhou Xinhui’s increasingly sinister expression without flinching.
Although the female officer was beautiful, she still tried to maintain her most fierce and intimidating expression, matching gazes with the old fox of the business world without being outdone.
The office was very quiet, yet Xu Shaowei felt as though he could hear the clashing of metal, as if swords were fiercely battling above the solid wood desk, with flashes of blades and a chilling breeze.
The hairs on his back stood up, his left fist clenched unconsciously, while his right hand pressed forcefully on the gun at his waist once more.
Boss Zhou, no longer young, blinked first due to dry eyes, losing miserably in this staring contest.
Jiayi also blinked, and as her long eyelashes fluttered, her peripheral vision suddenly caught a glimpse of the coarse brownish-gray paper under a pile of documents on the desk—the distinctive color and texture of newspaper.
She slightly turned her head, focusing on that spot.
Zhou Xinhui immediately stretched out his slightly plump, hairy hand, seemingly casually pressing and sliding over the newspaper, then stuffing it under the documents to completely hide it.
However, Jiayi had already read a few headline words on the newspaper in that instant. Although the information was sparse, it was enough for her to make a judgment.
The newspaper indeed carried the news that Zhao Dongsheng might already be dead.