Chapter 100: Corruption (First Update)

Click.

The hard crust of earth shattered like a spiderweb, releasing a wisp of white steam that carried the fresh fragrance of lotus leaves and chicken, spreading through the air.

“Though my belt loosens, I do not regret it…” Zhang Xiaoman slowly untied the thin grass rope binding the lotus leaf, tearing it open with a rustle. He bent forward, closed his eyes, and inhaled gently. When he opened them, he stared blankly, lost in thought.

Chang Ping removed his rubber gloves and mask, switched off several screens ceasing analysis and mapping, then lifted a cup of coffee from the table beside the supercomputer console. He walked over to Zhang Xiaoman and asked curiously, “What are you looking at?”

“Leg!” Zhang Xiaoman swallowed hard and blurted out the word decisively.

Chang Ping frowned. “What leg?”

“The iron-faced, impartial, chivalrous yet tender, outward-bent elbow thigh!” Zhang Xiaoman grabbed a chicken leg, twisted it hard, tore it off, and handed it to Chang Ping with a cheeky grin. “Come on! Eat this leg first, then the other one.”

“I’m not eating!” Chang Ping looked at Zhang Xiaoman’s greasy hands with disdain. “Eating beggar’s chicken in front of the deceased is a bit improper. I advise you to eat outside if you must. Words can bring trouble, and eating can bring sickness. Don’t catch bacteria and get diarrhea.”

Zhang Xiaoman bit into the chicken leg forcefully, mouth oily. “You won’t eat the chicken I brought, but you insist on eating at a hotel. It’s all just chicken—what’s the difference? Could it be that because her plucked parts are more refined, it’s suddenly a phoenix?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Chang Ping stopped stirring his coffee, his expression darkening. “You should know I hate chickens most in life. My father, Chang An, died because of a few chickens.”

“Your father is your father, and you are you,” Zhang Xiaoman said expressionlessly as he tore the meat into strips. “If it were your father, he wouldn’t have gone easy just because the suspect’s a woman. He was a steel-hearted man who never spared the tender. So? Was that meal delicious? Did it have Australian lobsters?”

“Yes! At least better than the beggar’s chicken in your hand,” Chang Ping sneered. “After all, I helped her escape from the police station. Freedom is priceless, surely worth more than an Australian lobster.”

Zhang Xiaoman glanced sideways at Chang Ping and asked again, “Was it tasty?”

“Quite expensive.” Chang Ping sipped his coffee. “One dish cost me a whole month’s salary. There were 108 dishes on the table that day! Actually, I was just doing my duty. That meal was on the house.”

“108? They’re trying to force you to become an outlaw, huh…” Zhang Xiaoman tossed the finished chicken bone into the trash, pulled out a tissue to wipe his mouth, then hesitated before throwing it away. He flipped the tissue over, cleaned his greasy hands, blew his nose, and finally discarded it. He rubbed his nose and asked, “Where did she get so much money? Isn’t her husband’s inheritance still frozen?”

“She’s a modern independent woman with her own income, not relying on men…”

“Bullshit. There’s no such thing as true independence. She’s not Robinson Crusoe, doing everything alone. Yin and yang need each other; a good life requires both man and woman. Without one, the other can’t flourish. If she were truly independent, she wouldn’t have treated you to that meal… They say to win a man’s heart, a woman must first win his stomach. She’s trying to capture your heart.”

“By that logic, the hotel chef is the one who truly captured my heart—and many others’. Must be a heart thief.”

Zhang Xiaoman coughed heavily. “Such an expensive meal must have taken a long time. What did you two talk about?”

“Don’t talk while eating or resting. I said nothing,” Chang Ping said calmly. “And I didn’t eat long—a bowl of soy sauce mixed rice doesn’t take much time.”

“Fine food and beauty before you, and you only eat soy sauce rice?” Zhang Xiaoman looked skeptical. “Whether it’s a feast or a delicacy, it’s worth thousands!”

“I eat as much as my stomach can hold and as expensive as my income allows.” Chang Ping pretended to blow the steam off his coffee and took a long sip. “Unfortunately, after deducting social insurance, housing loans, and a donation to the mountains, I have no extra money left this month. If it weren’t for a few boxes of instant noodles at home, I’d starve.”

“Pathetic!” Zhang Xiaoman crossed his arms and shook his head.

Chang Ping glanced at him with a cold laugh. “Look at you—wiping your mouth, then your hands, then your nose with the same tissue. Doesn’t that bother you? Using a few more sheets costs just a few cents. And your clothes—I remember you wore those when my father was still alive. I’m almost the same size as my father back then, and you’re still in those clothes. Truly, patched up year after year.”

Zhang Xiaoman wiggled his index finger. “That’s unfair. I’m not being pathetic, just frugal. It’s a traditional virtue. Imagine if everyone used one less sheet of paper daily—that’s billions saved, which could build schools or hospitals in rural areas. Even the smallest contributions add up to something moving. As for these clothes… I just like the style. Classics never go out of fashion!”

“True to a professor’s nature—always reasonable,” Chang Ping said as he set down his coffee and extended his right hand seriously. “Enough talk. Hand it over.”

Zhang Xiaoman spread his hands helplessly. “It’s not with me.”

Chang Ping’s brows knit tightly into a deep crease, his face chilling. “Who has it?” After a moment’s thought, his eyes widened. “You gave the list to Nie Yi?”

“That’s right. The one who tied the knot must untie it,” Zhang Xiaoman nodded. “Since others are after him, he should investigate.”

“Are you pretending to be clueless, or genuinely senile?” Chang Ping stiffened. “He and Li Jun have probably already been taken by the prosecutors. How could you put the list on him? You’re not helping him; you’re harming him—and screwing me over too. I trusted you and shouldn’t have agreed to help!”

“Don’t worry,” Zhang Xiaoman said calmly. “I have it under control. The fire won’t reach your backside. After all, we’re like oil and water. You’ll only have tender feelings… Misunderstandings, the more you fuss, the deeper the cracks.”

“Let’s end this soon. I want to visit home. New Year’s coming up, time to tend the graves again.”

“No rush. Play along with her a little.” Zhang Xiaoman walked to a mannequin and circled it. “What does this mean?”

“Practice makes perfect…” Chang Ping picked up a small knife from the table and slowly approached Zhang Xiaoman. Suddenly, his eyes widened with fury as he raised the knife and stabbed forcefully.

Zhang Xiaoman screamed, “Don’t! Calm down, don’t go crazy!”

At that moment, He Wei reached the office door and froze at the sounds inside. He had heard from the young officer Bai Chi that Zhang Xiaoman had stormed over to see Chang Ping, and he feared they might have gone too far in anger, doing something irreversible.

He Wei was about to turn the doorknob when a conversation from inside stopped him. He held the handle, his expression strange, and listened silently.

“It’s all in. Feels a bit off though. My technique should be right.”

“Pull it out first… wait… try from this angle…”

“Still no good. How about we switch? You try. You should have more experience with this.”

“I’m getting old, no strength, but I’ll try. Don’t be so impatient, take it slow…”

“Alright, I’ll try again…”

“Stop dawdling, faster… yes, yes, this is it! Push it deeper!”

He Wei’s face flushed red with embarrassment. Unable to bear it, he burst into the room, exclaiming, “What are you two doing? Broad daylight… and the office has no soundproofing…”

Zhang Xiaoman, holding the mannequin from behind, and Chang Ping, right hand gripping the knife plunged into the mannequin’s chest, both turned to look at He Wei, answering in unison, “What do you think?”

He Wei stared, dumbfounded, then forced a laugh. “An experiment… I thought you were conducting an experiment. I heard noises outside and thought it was intense, so I came in to help…”

Chang Ping expressionless, withdrew the knife from the mannequin’s chest, checked the sensor screen on the mannequin, then went to the workstation and rapidly typed a few numbers. He pressed Enter and stared intently at the three-dimensional simulation on the computer screen. Coldly, he said, “Next time you enter my office, knock first.”

Zhang Xiaoman pouted at He Wei, glanced at the 3D simulation, syncing calculations in his mind with the computer as he walked toward the autopsy table where the corpse lay. Curious, he asked, “You know how to dissect?”

“No, I just borrow the deceased,” Chang Ping replied lightly, glancing back. “To recreate a beggar’s chicken, you can’t just have mud. The inside contents must be complete.”

He Wei moved beside Zhang Xiaoman, donned white rubber gloves, pinched and rubbed the black dried soil on the corpse’s surface, and asked, “Found anything?”

“If I had results, I’d give you the report,” Chang Ping said with quiet dignity. “Until the data is fully collected, I won’t reveal anything. That’s the professionalism of a detective.”

He Wei, stung by Chang Ping’s rebuke, looked as if he had swallowed a dead fly, breathing heavily and sulking.

Zhang Xiaoman gently patted He Wei’s shoulder. “Quiet down. Your breathing’s too loud—I can’t hear what the deceased is saying…”

He Wei’s face flushed with embarrassment. Turning around, arms crossed, he took a few steps forward, standing with his back to Zhang Xiaoman and the corpse. In a muffled voice, he said, “Wow, your hearing’s amazing—you can even hear the rotten corpse talking. What did she say? Did she tell you who the murderer is?”

“Shh! Even corpses are human. What decays is not just the body, but also the human heart. If we quiet our minds, we can hear their voices…” Zhang Xiaoman bent over the pile of dry soil, nostrils twitching, eyes closed softly. “These voices mostly exist where our eyes cannot see… Oh? You said… it’s a woman?”

7017k