Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Secret Arrest (Part One)

The information that Li Yiting brought back made Chen Tianyu finally make up his mind—he would secretly detain all the criminal suspects first. If his judgment proved correct, the crisis in Li Village would be resolved. Once the road into the city was reopened, these people would be handed over to the local police and the legal process would take its course. This was the safest way; otherwise, if another murder occurred, the blame would fall on Beiting.

The arrests mainly targeted the group of thieves led by the Mute, as they had jurisdiction over public security cases. Li Fuqi, on the other hand, was a bona fide government official; without solid evidence, they needed to apply for an arrest warrant before proceeding. So, Beiting simply assigned the injured Wan Yongkun, who was unfit for action, to keep watch. Unexpectedly, he ended up with company, and their card games escalated from "Fight the Landlord" to "Tractor."

Wan Yongkun indeed lived up to his reputation as a tough man. Wounds that would have been fatal to an ordinary person, he only needed a few stitches before moving about as usual, earning him the silent admiration of the others. Meanwhile, Liu Zichen and Shen Mingyue would frequently bring medicine and meals to the village office, making the four men there quite content, while also covertly providing surveillance—a twofold benefit.

While things seemed calm on the surface, elsewhere the atmosphere was tense and anxious.

Chen Tianyu personally led Li Yiting and Kuang Suo in the arrests. It had been a long time since he had been on the front lines, and he felt a certain itch to act. Soon, Zhang Jin, Zhang Kun, Xun Yuanchun, and others were all apprehended. Kuang Suo searched everywhere but failed to find any trace of the Mute and had to temporarily give up.

Li Yiting decided to interrogate the captured men first, ordering Kuang Suo to keep pursuing the Mute's whereabouts.

All of them were seasoned veterans, and arresting a few thieves was routine for them, especially since the operations took place late at night and in secret. The families of the suspects probably thought the men had simply gone off for a gambling spree. Thus, the village of Luoshui remained as tranquil as ever, as if nothing had happened.

The three men were quite satisfied with this outcome. They arranged the interrogation in an abandoned primary school not far from the village office, which also served as a cover for their activities. Even so, Chen Tianyu dared not take any chances and did not unlock the iron gate of the school; they climbed over the wall to get in and out, acting like secret agents, as Li Yiting joked.

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Chen Tianyu decided to begin the interrogation that very night, hoping to make progress within a day.

They brought in Zhang Kun first, suspecting that, despite his tough exterior, he would be the easiest to break. As expected, once confronted with a few basic pieces of evidence, he spilled everything. In truth, he was just a compulsive gambler, wholly unaccustomed to formal proceedings. When Li Yiting flashed his Beiting prosecutor’s badge and Zhang Kun saw the national emblem, his legs went weak. He knew the police would not have arrested him without reason, especially in such a remote place.

Yet the information he provided was disappointing. According to Zhang Kun, he was merely an assistant, following Zhang Jin’s orders, and hadn’t even received any payment for this job. He only joined because he was desperate for money, having lost heavily to Zhang Jin at the gambling table. Zhang Jin had then pulled him into the theft to settle his gambling debts, but beyond that, he hadn’t profited a cent. Every time he went to ask Zhang Jin for money, he was told that the stolen goods hadn’t been sold yet, so he had nothing to say. Over time, he stopped bothering to visit Zhang Jin’s house, especially since it was the Spring Festival, when group gambling was rampant and his addiction was hard to control.

“How did you carry out the theft?” Li Yiting asked, somewhat skeptical, suspecting Zhang Kun was still hiding something.

Zhang Kun’s eyes darted nervously, and he replied pitifully, “Sir, I’m timid. I was just the lookout outside. After Zhang Jin moved the Guanyin statue out, I helped load it onto the vehicle. That’s all I was involved in. Honestly, I’m just hard up right now and wanted to earn a bit of cash.”

In this way, he deflected all responsibility—a pattern Li Yiting had seen many times before, so he wasted no further words on him.

“I might as well tell you, Zhang Jin is locked up in the room next to yours. Should I bring him over to confront you?” he said with a cold sneer.

“That’s the truth. I’m not lying. I’m not afraid of a confrontation,” Zhang Kun stiffened his neck, evidently believing his crime was minor.

Li Yiting asked, “Then tell me, how did Zhang Jin enter the Guanyin Temple?”

Zhang Kun was silent for a moment. “Probably through the side hall.”

“Is it ‘probably,’ or are you sure?”

“Sir, to be honest, I didn’t pay attention.”

“At that time, where was the old temple caretaker? Did you see him?”

“That old man goes to bed early and sleeps like a log. With Zhang Jin’s skill, there’s no way he’d wake him.”

“How early does he go to bed, exactly what time?”

“Eight or nine o’clock. How would I know exactly? Everyone just says he’s an early sleeper.”

“What about the young monk, Luo Ming? Did he take part in your operation?”

“Heh, that drunkard was busy at the card table then. Don’t be fooled by his bluster; he’s actually a coward.”

“So according to you, Luo Ming had no idea?”

“I heard Zhang Jin mention he’d hinted to Luo Ming a few times, but the guy just didn’t get it. Sir, you know, doing something like this isn’t exactly honorable. Someone slow-witted would just drag everyone down.”

“So you know it was dishonorable. If so, why did you do it?”

“I was desperate, that’s all.”

Seeing that he had gotten enough, Li Yiting asked a key question: “Since you stole the Guanyin statue yourselves, why did you dare go to the temple and make a scene afterward? Aren’t you bold?”

“Uh... well...” Zhang Kun hesitated. “There were so many people there. I was just going along with the crowd.”

“You’d better tell the truth,” Li Yiting said sternly. “Don’t think I don’t know. You organized the disturbance at the Guanyin Temple. What was your aim?”

“It really wasn’t me, sir, you’ve got to believe me,” Zhang Kun protested, looking as if he were gravely wronged.

“Still stubborn, are you? Fine. Tomorrow you can explain yourself in prison and see who believes you.”

Zhang Kun panicked. “I only helped load the car for a bit of cash. I’ve confessed everything. Why should I go to jail?”

Li Yiting was both amused and exasperated; this man had no concept of being an accessory to a crime. He recalled the villagers banding together to illegally log yew trees—it was collective legal ignorance.

He decided to change tactics. “Let me clarify the law for you. An accessory to theft can be sentenced to six months to two years in prison, depending on the severity. If the crime is particularly serious or involves especially valuable property, it can be three to five years. Do you think you should go to jail?”

Zhang Kun could no longer sit still. With a woeful face, he begged, “Sir, I didn’t even get paid! How can I be an accessory? Please, you’ve got to see the truth.”

Li Yiting felt the time was right and reminded him, “It depends on your attitude. If you’re willing to inform on others, you can earn leniency. I’m explaining this as simply as I can.”

Nervous but not entirely foolish, Zhang Kun nodded repeatedly.

“Who ordered you to cause trouble at the Guanyin Temple? If you confess, it counts as meritorious behavior. If we find out on our own, your punishment will be heavier.”

Zhang Kun looked at Li Yiting suspiciously. “Will I really not go to jail if I tell?”

“That depends on your behavior,” Li Yiting replied noncommittally.

“Then I’ll say it—it was actually the village party secretary who told me to go,” Zhang Kun said reluctantly.

“The party secretary?!” Li Yiting struggled to contain his shock and sought confirmation. “You mean Li Fuqi?”

But Zhang Kun shook his head. “No, I mean the old party secretary. You misunderstood.”

For some reason, Li Yiting actually breathed a sigh of relief.

“Who is the old party secretary?” He was puzzled—why had another person suddenly been implicated, and one so well hidden? Neither the Mute, Zhang Jin, nor Xun Yuanchun were likely candidates for such a position.

“Oh, the old party secretary is Zhang Shubing. Before Li Fuqi took over, he was re-elected every year.”

Li Yiting tried to recall the name, but it didn’t ring a bell. He glanced at the silent Chen Tianyu, who finally spoke, “Zhang Shubing should be Qiu Xi’s maternal uncle.” He remembered Qiu Xi mentioning him before.

Li Yiting grunted his acknowledgement, then asked, “Why did Zhang Shubing want you to make trouble? Did he offer you anything?”

“Uh...” Zhang Kun hesitated. “Sir, is this illegal?”

“Cut the nonsense!” Li Yiting snapped, losing patience.

Zhang Kun shrank back, too afraid to speak.

“He said he wanted to make Li Fuqi look bad. The old temple caretaker is the new party secretary’s uncle. With this incident, the Li family would lose face.”

Li Yiting began to understand. “So, he was jealous and wanted to force Li Fuqi out, then take his place?”

“That’s probably it, sir. I didn’t really get anything out of it—just helping him vent his anger, that’s all. If Zhang Jin hadn’t come to me on his behalf, I never would’ve helped.”

“What’s Zhang Shubing’s relation to Zhang Jin?”

“They’re relatives, I think. Zhang Shubing is probably Zhang Jin’s mother’s cousin, though I’m not sure how distant. Anyway, their families have always been close.”

“Alright, think carefully if there’s anything else you haven’t confessed,” Li Yiting said, waving Zhang Kun away. His head was starting to ache. He knew all too well how complex rural kinship ties could be. If he kept pulling on that thread, who knew how many people would be implicated—the investigation could become unmanageably large.

“Fourth Brother, what do you think?” he turned to Chen Tianyu for help.

Chen Tianyu understood his dilemma and, after a moment’s thought, said, “Let’s see what the other two say. Our resources are limited—let’s set aside the peripheral matters for now.”

“But I’m worried that if we’re chasing the wrong lead, we’ll be in real trouble,” Li Yiting said anxiously. “If the real killer isn’t among those we’ve rounded up, we’re just giving them more time to strike again.”

“Don’t overcomplicate things. The main threads of the case are clear,” Chen Tianyu said, keeping his usual cool. “Set aside the trivialities for now. Tomorrow, I’ll have Jiudao check Zhang Shubing’s background. If there’s a problem, we’ll arrest him too. I doubt even Qiu Xi knows much about Zhang Shubing’s situation—they haven’t been in touch for years.”

“Alright then,” Li Yiting finally agreed.