While semi-conscious, Zhou Yi vaguely sensed he had been taken to a hospital. He smelled the strong scent of antiseptic, and it seemed like someone was performing some checks on him. He heard a voice say, "His vital signs are all normal. His life isn’t in danger."
Another voice asked, "Then why isn’t he awake yet?"
The first voice replied, "He seems a bit anemic. That, combined with his injuries, probably caused him to pass out from insufficient blood flow to the brain. He should wake up in a little while."
"Doctor, are you sure he’s not faking it?"
"Don’t worry, Officer. I checked his pupillary light reflex. I can confirm he’s genuinely unconscious."
"Alright then. Since there’s nothing seriously wrong with him, we’ll take him back to the station first. We’ll interrogate him when he wakes up."
Zhou Yi could vaguely hear some of the conversation, but it was all muffled and indistinct. He felt as if his soul had separated from his body. ’Could this be a side effect of my rebirth?’
He had no idea how much time had passed, but he finally felt able to open his eyes. The surrounding environment looked like the familiar holding cells of a police station—the kind of room used to temporarily detain criminal suspects.
Except this one had a more nineties feel to it. The slogan "Leniency for those who confess, severity for those who resist" was painted on the peeling walls.
Zhou Yi’s head and left hand throbbed with pain.
He was lying on a hard wooden plank bed, without even a pillow.
He was about to rub his head when he discovered that his uninjured right hand was cuffed to the iron frame of the headboard.
He shot up in an instant. ’I’ve been locked up?’
This was indeed a holding cell. The frame of the bed he was on was made of iron pipes welded directly to the floor.
This was a design meant to prevent criminal suspects from using any tools to self-harm.
However, this design wasn’t without its flaws. Suspects could still injure themselves, or even commit suicide, by ramming their heads against the wall or the iron frame.
That’s why later holding cells were all converted to a padded design.
The holding cell had no windows, only a single door with iron bars.
As a result, Zhou Yi had no way of knowing what time it was or how long he had been unconscious.
It seemed the muffled conversations he’d heard while unconscious weren’t a hallucination. The wounds on his head and hand had received emergency treatment—they’d been disinfected and stitched up.
"Is anyone there?" Zhou Yi shouted loudly.
A dozen or so seconds later, the sound of hurried footsteps approached. Outside the barred door, two police officers appeared—one old, one young—both wearing light green uniforms.
Just as Zhou Yi was about to state his identity, the older officer sized him up and said coolly, "Well, look at you. Woke up the moment we put you in here."
"Officers, my name is Zhou Yi. I’m..."
"Don’t be hasty. Since you’re awake, let’s move to another room and begin the formal interrogation."
"Interrogation?" Zhou Yi froze. His heart sank as he instantly understood the situation. It seemed Du Xiaolin was most likely dead.
...
In the interrogation room, Zhou Yi was confined to a restraint chair.
Across from him, behind a desk, sat the same two officers from before, one old and one young.
The young officer began by going through the standard interrogation procedure.
"We are officers from the Municipal Public Security Bureau’s Criminal Investigation Detachment. We are now questioning you in accordance with the law. You must answer truthfully and are not permitted to..."
To Zhou Yi, this whole spiel sounded exceptionally familiar. The only difference was that he was usually the one sitting on the other side of the desk. This was his first time hearing it from the perspective of the one being interrogated.
After the procedure was completed, the interrogation officially began.
It was obvious that the young officer was the secondary interrogator, responsible only for taking notes, while the old officer was the lead.
This also followed the logic of an interrogation; the lead role was usually taken by an officer with more case experience.
Sure enough, the old officer tossed his pen onto the desk with a CLACK. He asked coldly, "Do you know why you were arrested?"
Zhou Yi’s memory stopped at the point where he lost the killer and saw two patrol officers.
Given that Du Xiaolin was in shock from massive blood loss, Zhou Yi might not have been able to save her anyway, especially since the killer had doubled back.
In other words, he hadn’t managed to change the original history. The killer escaped, and Du Xiaolin died.
This was a terrible outcome. The only consolation, perhaps, was that his sudden intervention had altered the trajectory of what was originally the "316" cold case.
Du Xiaolin’s body must have been discovered by now, which meant the crime scene must have been fully investigated before the heavy rain started.
Investigating the scene and collecting clues left by the killer were the keys to solving the case.
In the original timeline, it was the lack of these key clues that had caused the investigation to stall.
Therefore, the most important thing now was to prove his own innocence and get the police to focus their investigation in a more precise direction.
"Officers, I’m a police officer from the Nanhu Street Police Station. My name is Zhou Yi, and my badge number is 361810. You can verify it," Zhou Yi said, keeping his tone as gentle as possible.
The two officers glanced at each other. The older one’s expression didn’t change, but the younger one looked surprised.
The old officer nodded, and the young officer, understanding the signal, immediately got up and left.
The old officer’s gaze was sharp as he stared at Zhou Yi.
"I’ll warn you first, impersonating a police officer will only add to your crimes."
Zhou Yi nodded.
"I know. It’s stipulated in Article 279 of the Criminal Law."
"Whoever impersonates a state functionary to swindle or bluff shall be sentenced to fixed-term imprisonment of not more than three years, criminal detention, public surveillance, or deprivation of political rights."
"If the circumstances are serious, the sentence shall be fixed-term imprisonment of not less than three years but not more than ten years."
"Whoever impersonates a police officer to swindle or bluff shall be given a heavier punishment in accordance with the provisions of the preceding paragraph."
A flicker of surprise passed through the old officer’s eyes.
"Well now, you actually know a thing or two."
"Which police academy did you graduate from?" the old officer asked suddenly.
The abrupt question caught Zhou Yi slightly off guard.
But he immediately answered, "The Provincial Police Officer Higher Vocational School."
"Oh, the Provincial Police Academy, huh? What did you study?"
The old officer’s tone was very casual, a complete departure from before, as if he already believed Zhou Yi’s identity.
But Zhou Yi instantly became vigilant. ’Something’s fishy.’
"Criminal investigation."
"Is that so? Hey, I have a friend who teaches at your academy. His name is Xing Jian. Do you know him?"
Zhou Yi immediately nodded, feigning recognition. He wanted to see what kind of trick the officer was playing.
"We haven’t seen each other in years. Is he still teaching criminology? How are things with his wife? Last time we were drinking, he was grumbling about getting a divorce."
Hearing this, Zhou Yi finally understood. ’So, he’s testing me.’
Zhou Yi replied calmly, "You must be mistaken, sir. Professor Xing teaches criminal law, not criminology."
"Is that right? Looks like I remembered wrong," the old officer said with feigned surprise.
"There’s one more thing you might have misremembered. Professor Xing is a woman. As for her relationship with her husband, that’s something we students wouldn’t know."
This time, the old officer’s reaction was placid. He said faintly, "Is that so. Look at this memory of mine."
Zhou Yi knew the officer was testing him, and he had clearly passed. This kind of information wasn’t something a person could know without being there.
After a while, the young officer returned and whispered a few words in the old officer’s ear.