Animal Detective

He wore a look of disgust, full of an indignation that questioned how anyone could fail the "C260 test."

Qian Zidan chuckled and chimed in, "So what you’re saying is, you planned to eat the sugar coating and send the cannonball back, eh?"

Zhang Hancheng shot another glare at Qian Zidan. *So talkative, are we? Then go talk outside.*

Qian Zidan gave a sheepish smile and promptly shut his mouth.

Zhang Zhanhui flinched and said, "I didn’t really think of it like that. He was giving me money—cold, hard cash—so I figured I might as well take it and just string him along."

"So I swear, I never gave him any useful, classified information. The security measures at our institute are extremely strict."

"We’re checked every time we enter or leave. The institute is covered in surveillance cameras and access control systems. It’s very difficult to sneak any data out."

Qian Zidan frowned slightly.

It was true that Institute 57 had strict security measures; it had always been a key facility of interest for the Ministry of State Security.

Besides, they had already conducted an internal audit and hadn’t found any evidence of a data leak yet.

Of course, talk is cheap. No one knew if he was telling the truth or not, and Qian Zidan needed to see evidence.

He had many questions in mind, like how Zhang Zhanhui had met Mao Ruiqiang.

How did Mao Ruiqiang give him the money? How many times had they met? How did they stay in contact?

All these details had to be confirmed, one by one, to determine whether Zhang Zhanhui was hiding anything.

Zhang Hancheng, however, was focused on the case. After a moment’s thought, he asked, "Tell me about the night of the 17th. What exactly happened?"

He observed Zhang Zhanhui silently.

Between the fire and the espionage angle, much of the evidence in the case had been destroyed.

For example, Zhang Zhanhui claimed he’d had a depraved impulse and desecrated the corpse, but with the body burned so badly, there was no way to confirm it now.

It all came down to his word.

But based on Zhang Hancheng’s years of experience as a detective, Zhang Zhanhui’s reactions seemed genuine.

When someone tells a lie, even a well-rehearsed one, they tend to stumble over their words or hesitate.

Only someone who has truly experienced something can recount it so smoothly.

Any hesitation would stem from genuine emotions like shame or fear—the emotional reactions would feel natural.

Zhang Zhanhui hesitated, a self-deprecating look on his face. "The thing is," he said, "Siyu and I went out on dates—shopping, movies, that sort of thing—but we never... slept together."

"Deep down, I knew she was probably just stringing me along, but I really liked her. She had a great figure and a pretty face, and when she decided to be sweet... well, for me..."

Shyness, embarrassment, and a dozen other emotions warred on his face.

’If he’s acting,’ Zhang Hancheng thought, ’he deserves an Oscar.’

Zhang Zhanhui continued, "I knew I wasn’t really good enough for her. When we went shopping together, people would give me weird looks, like they were wondering how a loser like me could have such a beautiful girlfriend."

"They must have assumed I was just some rich guy who bought her. Plus, I’d never had a girlfriend before, so I really, really cherished Siyu."

"I didn’t care if it was fake or not. I just felt like she was good to me. At least when she looked at me, I never saw disgust in her eyes."

At this, Zhang Zhanhui seemed to recall an unpleasant memory. He paused and frowned.

He was likely recalling some painful memory.

Zhang Hancheng cut him off, telling him to get to the point.

Zhang Zhanhui said, "So, that day—the 17th, right? I was on my way home from work around ten o’clock when Siyu suddenly messaged me saying she missed me."

"I asked her on WeChat what was up, and she said she just wanted me to come over and be with her."

"At that time of night... you’re all men. You know what a message like that means."

Qian Zidan nodded in agreement.

Zhang Hancheng shot him a sideways glance before asking, "So you went over. How did you get there? Did you drive your C260? What’s the plate number?"

Zhang Zhanhui nodded and recited his license plate number.

Zhang Hancheng glanced toward the observation room, giving a signal to locate the car, then gestured for Zhang Zhanhui to continue.

"I got there and went upstairs." A flash of pain crossed Zhang Zhanhui’s face as he spoke. "When I knocked, the door swung open."

"I was actually excited for a second, thinking she might have left it unlocked for me. But then I went inside and found her lying on the sofa."

"At first, I thought she was just asleep. But then I saw that the place had been tossed, and I knew something wasn’t right. That’s when I realized she was dead."

"It scared the hell out of me. Then, like I said before... I swear, I really did want to call the police."

"But then I thought about how much money I’d spent on her. If you investigated and it led back to me, I wouldn’t be able to explain myself. So I just wanted to leave."

"But she was just lying there... facing me..."

Zhang Zhanhui’s face was full of regret. "I just kept thinking... I spent so much money on her. What a total waste. Then... it was like I was possessed."

Qian Zidan was listening with keen interest.

Zhang Hancheng had no patience for these sordid details and cut straight to the point, asking what came next.

Zhang Zhanhui flinched again. "I wanted to run," he said, "but then I realized—I had already... you know. There would be evidence. If the police found it, what if you thought I killed her?"

"I regretted it so much at that moment, I could have died. But there was nothing to be done, so I decided I had to clean up."

"I thought about washing her body, but then I realized just water wouldn’t be enough. I needed to use 84 Disinfectant."

"She had some in her bathroom, but there was only a little left—not enough. My head was a total mess, so I just thought about going downstairs to buy another bottle."

"It was already 11 PM by then. I’d only been... at it for a few minutes before I went downstairs."

Zhang Hancheng immediately cut in, asking where he went to buy it.

No bottle of 84 Disinfectant had been found at the scene—it was probably destroyed in the fire—but the autopsy had indeed confirmed that Li Siyu’s body had been washed.

Zhang Zhanhui said, "On the street right outside. You go out the small side entrance, and I remember there’s a Meiyijia convenience store to the right."

"I was wearing a hat when I came over. Mao Ruiqiang taught me that. He told me to always wear a hat and mask when I go out to avoid being caught on camera."

"I went inside and even found the 84 Disinfectant, but then it hit me—this wouldn’t work. If I paid for it, even with cash instead of my phone, the cashier would still remember me."

"Someone’s dead, and her body has 84 Disinfectant on it. You guys would definitely investigate who bought it."

"So I didn’t buy it; I just walked right out. But after I left, I remembered the store had security cameras too."

"Thinking about the cameras made me remember the ones in the elevator. I was screwed. I’d already... done what I did. You’d definitely suspect me of killing Siyu."

"I was completely out of options, so I called Mao Ruiqiang and asked him for help."

"He’s a spy! I knew he’d have a solution. I told him, if you help me with this, I’ll help you steal the data."

"So he agreed and came right over. He handled everything for me after that."

Zhang Hancheng stroked his chin.

Zhang Zhanhui’s confession did resolve one mystery: why Mao Ruiqiang, after stealing the surveillance recorder and leaving through the side entrance, had turned right and paused.

He was likely observing the Meiyijia, trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

And this detail was crucial.

Almost a week had passed since the crime. Mao Ruiqiang would have had plenty of time and opportunity to coordinate his story with Zhang Zhanhui and coach him on what to say.

But Mao Ruiqiang couldn’t have known that the police had used dogs to trace his movements and confirm that he had turned right.

The fact that Zhang Zhanhui had brought up this detail proactively made his story much more credible.