Three days quietly passed by.
The murder case at the summit had lost its urgency among the villagers—after all, everyone was too busy with their work to discuss it daily.
But just when the village was about to regain its calm,
a police car pulled up directly in front of Old Man Qin's house.
Three policemen stepped out from the vehicle.
When they knocked on the door, it was Qin Fugui who answered it.
Upon seeing the three policemen at the door, his legs went weak.
He became all tongue-tied.
"Comrade... what's, what's the matter?"
The leader of the policemen was surnamed Lu—he was in charge of this case—and he directly said, "We're here to find Qin Fulin; is he at home?"
Qin Fugui, upon hearing that they weren't there for him, immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
"He's, he's here."
And then he stepped aside to give them way.
But why were these officers looking for Qin Fulin? Could it be he had gotten into trouble?
The thought made his eyes widen.
