On the high-speed rail back, my mind was consumed by thoughts of Huachuang.
I had noted down the dates and amounts of those large transfers; they would be our primary focus once we returned. If we could trace who the recipients were, we could keep pursuing this line.
However, a crucial piece of evidence was still missing.
Who was Huachuang’s actual controller?
Wu Jianhua was merely a figurehead legal representative, and the person who actually made the decisions never showed their face. The way Manager Fang acted made it obvious he knew the inside story, but he didn’t dare speak.
Once back, I had to find a way to break him.
“Captain Shen.”
Wen Ruzhou’s voice interrupted my train of thought.
I looked up: “What is it?”
“Your phone rang.”
I looked down at my phone and saw three missed calls, all from Zhou Qiming.
I dialed back: “Captain Zhou, what’s up?”
“How are things over in Shenzhen?” Zhou Qiming’s voice sounded a bit anxious.
“Uncovered some things, we’ll talk when I get back.” I paused. “Why were you looking for me?”
“A new situation developed locally,” Zhou Qiming lowered his voice. “One of the complainants in the Hongyun case committed suicide at home this morning.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What happened?”
“An elderly woman in her sixties who invested eight hundred thousand yuan. Just found out yesterday that her investment might be unrecoverable, so she took sleeping pills at home this morning and passed.” Zhou Qiming sighed. “She was rushed to the hospital; her life was saved, but her condition isn’t good.”
I fell silent for a few seconds.
Another eight hundred thousand yuan.
Among the victims of the Hongyun case, there were far too many elderly people who had invested their retirement savings. To them, eight hundred thousand yuan might represent their life savings—their blood, sweat, and tears over a lifetime. Once the money was gone, the person collapsed too.
“Got it,” I said. “Anything else?”
“Focus on handling the case at hand first,” Zhou Qiming said. “I’ll handle the elderly lady’s situation. You two come back as soon as possible.”
The call hung up.
Stowing my phone away, I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.
“Captain Shen?” Wen Ruzhou’s voice was very soft. “Did something happen?”
Opening my eyes, I looked at her.
She sat opposite, having set down the book in her hand, a thread of worry visible in her eyes.
“A complainant committed suicide,” I said. “An elderly lady in her sixties.”
Her expression changed.
“Suicide?”
“Yeah.” I paused. “Happened last night.”
She fell silent for a few seconds, then lowered her head, looking at her hands.
After a long while, she finally spoke: “Was it because the money couldn’t be recovered?”
“Probably.”
She didn’t speak again.
It was quiet inside the carriage, with only the rumbling sound of the train echoing in our ears. Watching the fields and villages flash past outside the window, a nameless feeling welled up in my heart.
Every year, Economic Crime Investigation handles countless cases, each backed by infinite families. Some families can weather it; others cannot. For those who cannot, it leads either to total ruin or fractured households.
That was the price of illegal fundraising.
Yet no one would tell you these things in advance.
At eight in the evening, we arrived back in our city.
People coming and going crowded the platform. I walked ahead carrying the luggage, with Wen Ruzhou following behind. A humid smell hung in the air, much like Shenzhen’s air this morning.
“Captain Shen.” She suddenly called out to me.
Stopping, I looked back at her: “What is it?”
“About today…” She hesitated. “Regarding that elderly lady, don’t take it too much to heart.”
I frowned: “What do you mean?”
“I’m not trying to comfort you,” she smiled faintly. “I mean, we might encounter such things again in the future. Handling cases like this means facing these realities sooner or later.”
I stared at her for a moment.
She stood under the lights, travel fatigue still lingering on her face, yet her gaze was serene.
“Understood,” I said. “Head back and rest first. We still need to keep following up on the case tomorrow.”
“What about you?”
“I’m heading back to the detachment to organize what we uncovered today.”
She nodded: “Alright, I’ll take my leave then.”
Turning to walk toward the exit, she took a few steps, then paused and looked back at me: “Captain Shen.”
“Hmm?”
“Remember to eat dinner.”
Saying nothing, I watched her figure vanish into the crowd.
Returning to the detachment, I organized today’s investigative materials.
Huachuang Investment’s problems were more severe than expected. Judging from bank statements, the company had at least thirty suspicious transactions totaling over thirty million yuan. The money was scattered across dozens of accounts, transferred back and forth as if deliberately obfuscating the source of funds.
However, one thing was strange.
The ultimate destination of these funds could not be traced for the time being. After being transferred to a certain account, several large sums vanished abruptly. The account’s opening bank was listed as a bank in Hong Kong, but there was no further information.
Hong Kong.
Hong Kong again.
Putting the materials away, I rubbed my temples.
It was already ten at night, and the office building corridor was silent; most people had already clocked off. Standing up, I walked to the window, gazing out at the night view.
The city was brightly lit, with occasional vehicles traversing the elevated highway, and scattered lights still glowing in distant office buildings. How many people in this city were currently being deceived by companies like Hongyun? How many people’s hard-earned money had gone down the drain?
I didn’t know.
But I knew I had to root all these people out.
The phone rang.
Glancing at the caller ID, it was a message from Wen Ruzhou.
“Captain Shen, are you still at the detachment?”
I replied with one word: “Yes.”
After a few seconds, another message came.
“Have you eaten dinner?”
I glanced at the untouched boxed meal on the desk and replied with two words: “Not yet.”
Then her message arrived: “I haven’t eaten either. Together?”
Staring at the screen for a few seconds, I didn’t reply.
About ten minutes later, someone knocked on the door.
Looking up at the doorway, I saw Wen Ruzhou standing there, holding two bags in her hands.
“Since you didn’t reply to my message, I came on my own.” She smiled, stepping inside and placing the bags on the desk. “Oden and rice balls from the convenience store downstairs. If you don’t mind, eat together?”
I looked at her, saying nothing.
Unbothered, she found a chair to sit down, opened a box of oden, and began eating.
“Eat up.” She pointed at the other box. “It won’t taste good once it gets cold.”
Walking over, I sat opposite her and opened the box containing the rice balls.
The two of us ate quietly like that, neither saying a word.
Halfway through, she suddenly asked: “Captain Shen, on the high-speed rail today, was that phone call you took related to your father?”
My hand paused for a moment.
She wasn’t looking at me, merely keeping her head down eating her oden, her tone casual, as if making small talk.
“Called from the prison,” I said. “Said no one has collected my father’s belongings yet.”
She raised her head and glanced at me.
“Do you need to go handle it?”
“Probably.”
She didn’t ask further.
Nor did I elaborate.
Finishing the food, she gathered the trash and stood up: “I’ll take off first then. Don’t stay up too late, Captain Shen.”
“Wen Ruzhou.”
She stopped at the doorway and looked back at me: “Hmm?”
“Come with me to the provincial capital tomorrow.”
She froze for a moment: “The provincial capital?”
“My father’s belongings are at the Provincial Prison Administration Bureau,” I said. “Need to go sign for them.”
She looked at me, a trace of surprise in her eyes, though it was quickly replaced by calm.
“Alright,” she said. “What time is the train?”
“Two in the afternoon.”
“Then tomorrow morning we’ll hand over the current work first.” She thought for a moment. “Also, Captain Shen, being unfamiliar with the place in the provincial capital, how about I look up the routes for you?”
I looked at her, saying nothing.
Caught off guard by my stare, she smiled faintly: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I averted my gaze. “Head back. See you tomorrow.”
Nodding, she pushed the door open and left.
When the door closed, I heard her hum softly in the corridor, sounding almost like a giggle.
I didn’t know what she was laughing about.
But I knew I had just done a very strange thing.
I had taken the initiative to tell her, inviting her to accompany me to collect my father’s belongings.
For fifteen years, this was the first time I wanted someone to accompany me to face those things.
The next morning, we handed off our current work to Old Zhao.
“Pause the follow-up investigation on the Hongyun case for now,” I told Old Zhao. “I’m making a trip to the provincial capital and will return in the afternoon. If anything comes up during this period, notify me immediately.”
“Rest assured, Captain Shen.” Old Zhao nodded, then lowered his voice to ask, “Your trip to the provincial capital is…?”
“Personal matter.”
Old Zhao didn’t press further.
At twelve noon, Wen Ruzhou and I set off for the train station.
The two o’clock high-speed rail took about three hours to reach the provincial capital.
I didn’t drive this time because I wasn’t familiar with the provincial capital’s roads, and she said she could use navigation.
When boarding after ticket inspection, I walked ahead while she followed behind.
We bought first-class seats this time, which were much roomier. After sitting down, I pulled out my laptop, preparing to continue organizing materials for the Hongyun case on the way.
She sat beside me, by the window.
She didn’t take the initiative to talk to me this time, simply looking out the window quietly, occasionally glancing down at her phone.
After a while, she suddenly handed her phone over: “Captain Shen, look at this.”
I took it to glance over.
It was a news link titled Family Members of Hongyun Investment Company Victims Defending Their Rights, Facing Bureaucratic Shuffling.
I clicked to read it.
The article detailed the ordeal of a victim’s family member. His father had invested five hundred thousand yuan, only finding out a few days ago that the money was unrecoverable. Going to Hongyun, he discovered they had already absconded; going to report the case, he was told it was still under investigation and to wait for news at home. Not knowing what to do, he could only post online for help.
“This kind of thing is very common.” I handed the phone back to her. “People who get scammed often don’t know who to turn to.”
“So what should we do?” she asked.
I thought for a moment: “Handle the case well first. Ensure every victim gets what they rightfully deserve.”
She nodded, saying no more.
Three hours later, the train arrived.
The provincial capital was much larger than our city, its station far more grand. Carrying the luggage, I walked ahead with her following behind, the two of us weaving through the crowded throng toward the exit.
“Captain Shen, which district is the Prison Administration Bureau in?” She pulled out her phone to check the map.
“Binjiang New District,” I said. “About a forty-minute drive from here.”
I hailed a ride-share and gave the address. The driver was a middle-aged man, very talkative, chatting the entire way about how well the provincial capital had developed in recent years—where new buildings had gone up, where new malls had opened.
I gave offhanded replies, my mind preoccupied with other thoughts.
Father’s belongings.
Eight years.
In eight years, I had thought about collecting those items countless times, but gave up every single time. Not because I didn’t want to go, but because I didn’t dare.
When he passed away, I wasn’t by his side.
When he entered prison, I wasn’t able to visit him either.
While he was alive, all I could do was write him a letter every month, asking how his health was and telling him I was doing fine.
His replies were always brief—just a few sentences: Health is fine, don’t worry, work hard, don’t fret.
The last letter was written a month before he passed away in prison.
There were only five words in the letter: Your dad is innocent.
I didn’t know what he was referring to.
But I knew he wouldn’t lie to me.
The car pulled up in front of a gray office building.
Provincial Prison Administration Bureau.
Getting out of the car, I looked at that building, a very strange feeling rising in my heart.
“Captain Shen?”
Wen Ruzhou stood beside me, calling out softly.
Regaining my composure, I said: “Let’s go.”
I pushed open the main doors and walked inside.
The reception room was on the second floor. A middle-aged woman wearing a uniform sat behind the counter; seeing us enter, she looked up and asked, “How can I help you?”
“Shen Zhenyuan’s personal belongings,” I said. “Someone called me yesterday.”
The woman flipped through computer records and nodded: “Are you a family member? Please wait a moment, I’ll check for you.”
She stood up and walked into the archives room in the back.
I stood before the counter, my fingers unconsciously tapping against the tabletop.
“Captain Shen,” Wen Ruzhou stood beside me, her voice very soft. “Are you alright?”
I glanced at her, saying nothing.
After a moment, the woman emerged from the archives room holding a file folder and two cardboard boxes.
“These are Shen Zhenyuan’s personal belongings.” She placed the items on the counter. “Please sign here.”
I looked down at those two cardboard boxes.
One box was relatively large, with a label affixed reading “Daily Necessities.” The other box was smaller, labeled “Documents.”
I didn’t move, merely staring at those two cardboard boxes for a long time.
“Captain Shen?” Wen Ruzhou gently touched my arm. “Would you like to take a look first?”
Taking a deep breath, I reached for the pen.
After signing, I picked up the two boxes.
Lighter than I had imagined.
“Captain Shen, let me carry them.” Wen Ruzhou reached out to take them.
“No need.” I didn’t yield. “I’ll do it myself.”
She didn’t persist, simply standing beside me and accompanying me outward.
Stepping out of the office building, night had already fallen.
Streetlights glowed, casting a stark white light onto the ground. The wind was somewhat cold, making my eyes feel a bit dry and sore.
Standing on the steps, I set the boxes on the ground and lit a cigarette.
Wen Ruzhou stood beside me without speaking.
Halfway through the cigarette, I spoke: “Do you know what’s inside here?”
“I don’t.”
“It’s his diaries,” I pointed at the small box. “And letters he wrote to me.”
She didn’t chime in, merely standing there quietly.
Stubbing out the cigarette, I bent down to pick up the boxes: “Let’s go, time for dinner.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere.” I paused. “I’m hungry.”
She smiled faintly, catching up: “There’s a noodle shop nearby that I just looked up. Heard it’s quite good.”
I didn’t speak, but my pace quickened slightly.
The noodle shop sat at the corner of the street, decorated simply, with a wooden plaque hanging at the door reading “Old Li’s Noodle Shop.”
We walked in, finding a corner table to sit down.
The owner was a man in his fifties wearing an apron, asking us cheerfully what we’d like to eat.
“Two bowls of beef noodles,” I said. “One with extra scallions, one with less.”
“Alright!”
The owner turned to head to the kitchen.
Wen Ruzhou looked at me: “Captain Shen, you still remember my taste?”
I froze for a second, then averted my gaze: “Guessed.”
She smiled faintly, asking no more.
The noodles came up quickly, steaming hot and filling the air with aroma.
I lowered my head to eat, saying nothing.
She didn’t speak either, simply eating quietly.
Paying the bill after finishing, it was nearly nine o’clock when we walked out of the noodle shop.
I hailed a car to send her back to her hotel.
The car arrived, and as she opened the door, she looked back at me: “Captain Shen, tomorrow… what do you plan to do?”
“Look through his diaries,” I said. “Then head back.”
She nodded: “Then I’ll accompany you tomorrow.”
“You don’t need to—”
“Captain Shen,” she interrupted me, “I want to accompany you.”
I looked at her, saying nothing.
The headlights illuminated her face, softening her profile slightly.
She smiled, slipping into the car: “See you tomorrow, Captain Shen.”
The car door shut, and the vehicle drove off.
I stood in place, watching the car disappear into the night.
Then I looked down at the box in my hands.
Father’s diaries.
What did he write inside?
I didn’t know.
But I knew that tomorrow, I would have to face those things alone.
She was right; she wanted to accompany me.
Yet this matter was ultimately something I had to face by myself.