Huayuan Road had been under construction recently, its surface riddled with potholes and craters, making it difficult to drive. The two walked the entire way, as the rain fell harder and heavier with each step.
Fortunately, Chen Shengqiang's home was not far from the crime scene — no more than a fifteen or twenty-minute walk.
His family ran a small convenience store, watched over by an elderly man.
Lu Lie closed his umbrella, glanced down at Zhou Zhaozhao, shook the rain from his coat, and stepped inside.
The old man's hair and beard were snow-white, his eye sockets deeply sunken, yet he remained relatively spry. He spoke in a heavy dialect, "What can I get you?"
Lu Lie casually picked up a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of water, paid, and asked, "Uncle, is Qiangzi home?"
The man's hands trembled continuously — likely Parkinson's — and he asked, "Who are you? What do you want with Qiangzi?"
Lu Lie lied with ease, his tone light, "I'm a friend of his. Just want to ask him a few things. Is he home?" As he spoke, he glanced at the inner door of the store.
At the mention of Qiangzi, the old man waved a hand in exasperation, a look of bitter disappointment on his face. "He's not in. Off playing cards again."
"Where at?"
The man pointed in a direction. "Just around the corner, at the teahouse," he said, then began muttering to himself, "Playing cards all day, idling his life away, never doing anything proper…"
In Jinzhou, teahouses were the local euphemism for gambling parlors.
Lu Lie exited the store, twisted open the water bottle, then handed it to Zhou Zhaozhao, who took a sip.
He reopened the umbrella as the rain splashed down violently.
"Let's go," he said curtly.
"Captain Lu, where are we heading?"
He glanced toward the direction the old man had pointed. "Chen Shengqiang is playing cards at the teahouse, just around the bend."
With that, he strode forward without hesitation.
"Okay!" Zhou Zhaozhao responded quickly, almost panicked, afraid to fall behind. But the rain had made the ground slick — just as she caught up to Lu Lie, her foot slipped, and she stumbled backward.
At the critical moment, Lu Lie reacted swiftly, grabbing her wrist before she could fall.
Thankfully, she didn't hit the ground.
He helped her upright, glanced at her pale and startled face, and frowned, clearly annoyed. "Girl, why are you rushing like that?"
Zhou Zhaozhao pursed her lips and retorted with a sharp tongue, "Because I've got short legs and can't keep up! And didn't you just tell me to stay close? I'm following orders!"
Amused by her defiant gaze, Lu Lie found her unexpectedly interesting. His handsome eyes crinkled slightly, and he let out a chuckle. "So now this is my fault?"
"No, of course not — all my fault," she shot back instantly.
He raised a brow, a teasing note in his voice. "Still holding a grudge?"
"How would I dare hold a grudge against Captain Lu?" Her words sounded respectful, but her expression screamed otherwise — something along the lines of hell yes, I'm pissed.
Lu Lie gave a short laugh. "I thought you were genuinely afraid of me. Turns out you've got some fire in you. Back when we first met, you looked like a mouse in front of a cat…" He paused, then corrected himself. "No, that's not quite right — you didn't hide from me, but you did look like you were about to be punished."
Zhou Zhaozhao followed closely at his side, grumbling under her breath, "You always looked so stern, like the King of Hell himself. You even yelled at me several times…" There was a hint of grievance in her voice. "How could I not be intimidated?"
"Yelled at you several times?" Lu Lie looked genuinely puzzled. "I only remember once — at the entrance of that shady club."
He glanced down at her — she barely reached his shoulder. Her short hair was sleek, her neck porcelain-white and delicate, almost too bright to look at directly.
Then his gaze shifted forward again as he explained, "You're just a kid, loitering outside nightclubs. You should've gone home. You got harassed and still didn't have the sense to stay alert. Hanging around the entrance like that — were you hoping those thugs would come back?"
She huffed, "I'm not a kid. I've already graduated with a master's."
He hummed noncommittally. "Could've fooled me."
"I wasn't hanging around for fun — I was there to find someone," she clarified.
"When else did I yell at you?"
"When I came to report to you."
Lu Lie had no rebuttal.
"And when you dragged me off the track field."
He paused, thinking for a moment. "That counts as yelling? At most, my tone was a bit sharp." Then added, "Why do I seem like the King of Hell to you? Haven't I ever smiled at you?"
"Sure, maybe twice."
Lu Lie snorted. "You remember that clearly, huh?"
She straightened her neck defiantly. "Of course. I hold grudges."
He finally couldn't hold back a laugh — just as they arrived at the teahouse. His smile vanished as quickly as it came. He closed the umbrella, shook off the rain, handed it to Zhou Zhaozhao, then approached the entrance.
Lifting the heavy rubber curtain, he turned his face sideways and said, "Girl, keep up."
Inside, the air was thick and dim, packed with people. The stench of cigarettes and sweat clung to the walls, and the sound of tiles clattering against the automatic mahjong machines mingled with shouting voices.
Lu Lie had only glanced at a photo of Chen Shengqiang, but he had already memorized the man's features.
He scanned the crowd — a sea of faces.
Shirtless thugs with bloated faces, gangsters in gold chains, women with smoky eyes and cigarettes dangling from their lips, scrawny youth with bowl cuts, old men who'd lost and now slammed their tiles in fury…
A cross-section of humanity in all its ragged forms.
Finally, Lu Lie's eyes locked onto the table at the center.
Chen Shengqiang sat there, looking much like his photo: buzz-cut hair, a cigarette hanging from his lips, a bruise at the corner of his eye and a scratch on his cheek. His face was sullen as he pushed tiles into the machine — the look of a man on a losing streak.
Zhou Zhaozhao caught up to him, followed his gaze, then reached out and poked him in the waist. "Captain Lu, is it the guy in the white tank top?"
It tickled.
Lu Lie gave a faint nod.
"I'll go ask him," Zhou Zhaozhao volunteered.
Without waiting for approval, she walked straight up to Chen Shengqiang. "Hello, we need your cooperation for a few questions."
The place was too noisy — her voice drowned under the clatter of mahjong tiles.
She squared her shoulders, raised her voice, and repeated politely, "Sir, I'm a police officer. I need your cooperation for a few questions."
Chen Shengqiang turned, glared at her viciously, then went back to playing as if she didn't exist.
His opponent tossed a tile. "One Bamboo!"
Chen's face lit up. He slapped the table and shouted, "Kong!" Just as he reached for the tile, a delicate hand slammed down over it.
Zhou Zhaozhao's face was stern. "Sir, please cooperate—"
Chen Shengqiang exploded. He shoved the table and snarled, "Cooperate my ass! You bitch, you here to piss me off on purpose?"
He swung a fist at her.
Zhou Zhaozhao flinched and closed her eyes.
But the blow never landed.
When she opened them again, Lu Lie was beside her, his face like thunder, his powerful hand locking Chen Shengqiang's wrist in a vice grip.
With a twist, Chen cried out in pain, struggling violently. Tiles flew from the table and scattered on the floor.
Lu Lie kicked him hard in the shin. Chen howled, collapsed into the chair, and finally stopped resisting.
Lu Lie's expression was stormy. He pulled out his badge and growled, "Police. We need a word."
At that, the entire room went dead silent. Tiles stopped clacking. The crowd panicked and bolted like startled pigeons.
Chen Shengqiang groaned from the floor, his face twisted with pain and indignation. "You think you can just do whatever you want 'cause you're cops? I swear to f—"
Before he could finish, Lu Lie's face darkened. He gripped the man's raised hand and squeezed — hard.
"Wanna try me?" he asked, voice cold and mocking.
Chen Shengqiang wilted instantly. "I was wrong, I was wrong, you're right, officer! Absolutely right!"
Lu Lie let go, his voice low and dangerous. "We came to ask you some questions."
Chen muttered, still aggrieved, "You could've just asked. Why get physical?"
Lu Lie slammed the table, eyes sharp as knives. "Who threw the first punch, huh? Me or you?"
Chen glanced at Zhou Zhaozhao, opened his mouth, then shut it again.
"We asked you nicely. You attacked an officer. Real guts you've got."
"I was just mad from losing…" he mumbled, voice trailing off, his anger giving way to defeat.
Lu Lie pulled up a chair, sat down lazily, and fixed his eyes on the man like a hawk. "He Wenhui — he's your close buddy, isn't he?"
"Close buddy?" Chen sneered. "Hell no. He asked me out for dinner the other day and punched me in the face." He pointed to his bruised eye. "Still swollen. I fought back, of course. Why're you asking about him? Something happen? He didn't die or something, did he?"
Lu Lie's expression remained cold. He dropped the words like ice.
"He did."