[Punished]
“Quick, hurry! The gunshots came from upstairs!”
Hu Zhen and Li Chongyang were leading a small squad through the streets of Pingnan Ridge. Upon hearing the first shot, they sprinted toward Building 204, arriving shortly after the second blast.
Li Chongyang, with his youthful stamina, outran Hu Zhen and burst into Room 303.
“Is everyone okay?!” he asked Gu Yingzhou anxiously. Scanning the room, he saw that both Gu Yingzhou and Lu Ting’an were unscathed. Jiang Caiting was still alive, but the man pinned under their captain’s foot looked to be in rough shape—blood from his wrist and calf had soaked through two layers of clothing and was still gushing out.
A few seconds later, Hu Zhen arrived, gasping for air as he leaned against the doorframe. “What… what happened? Did we get the killer?”
Seeing these two was like finding a lifeline for Lu Ting’an.
“Officer Hu.” He quickly pulled back his hand and waved Hu Zhen over. “Come help me out—untie Jiang Caiting and call a car to get her to the hospital.”
In the Major Crimes Unit, Hu Zhen was the resident “Dad.” He had the experience and the patience for the aftermath and clean-up work. Out of habit, he didn’t even find it odd that Lu Ting’an was giving him orders; he hurried over to free Jiang Caiting.
After loosening the hemp ropes, Hu Zhen checked her pulse and breathing. “Thankfully, it’s mostly superficial trauma. She’ll recover after some rest.” As for the psychological trauma, however, she’d likely need some serious counseling.
As he helped her up, Hu Zhen craned his neck to get a look at the suspect on the floor. Half of the man’s face was pressed against the concrete. The visible side looked vaguely familiar, yet he definitely hadn’t seen him in any of the suspect photos.
Hu Zhen couldn’t help but take a closer look. “Who is he?”
Lu Ting’an stood with his hands behind his back, looking quite composed. “The murderer: Zhou Jinyao.”
‘Zhou Jinyao… also surnamed Zhou?’
It took Hu Zhen a few seconds to remember that this was the name of Zhou Daqing’s son—the one who had never shown his face.
Recalling Lu Ting’an’s words at the office door this morning, Hu Zhen sucked in a cold breath and stared at him in disbelief.
‘He actually guessed right?!’
…
Fifteen minutes later, police cars swarmed the scene. Li Ming and the forensic team began processing Zhou Wanxi’s head and collecting samples from the crime scene.
Li Chongyang and another newly arrived officer grabbed Zhou Jinyao and dragged him out. To prevent the media from causing a frenzy before the case was officially closed, they had pulled a black hood over the killer’s head.
Lu Ting’an didn’t follow them downstairs immediately. He retreated to a relatively quiet spot by the window. The forensic team had opened it; the room still reeked of blood, but the suffocating “Chinese Horror” atmosphere had finally lifted.
The location of Monkey Four’s flat was poor, but compared to other units in the building, it offered a wide, unobstructed view.
From where Lu Ting’an stood, he could see the paramedics carefully lifting Jiang Caiting onto a stretcher. He watched the hooded Zhou Jinyao being hauled toward a police car. The surrounding crowd was a mix of fear and curiosity; some of the more hot-headed neighbors shouted curses and spat on the ground.
Finally, the now-powerless killer was shoved into the car. Watching the police vehicle speed away, Lu Ting’an felt a sudden sense of peace, like the dust had finally settled.
He dazed out for a moment, and for the first time in a long while, he thought of his father, who had died in the line of duty many years ago.
His father had been a veteran criminal investigator. From Lu Ting’an’s earliest memories, his father was rarely home. He was always working overtime, chasing leads, or on special assignments in other cities. Work was his gravity; his family was just something he’d check in on during his rare spare moments.
In elementary school, there was a period where Lu Ting’an saw him more often. He’d come home for dinner, hold his son and talk to him for ten minutes, and then leave in a hurry. Lu Ting’an only found out later that it was because his mother was threatening divorce. His father had squeezed out his meager sleep time just to come home.
But his mother still fought with him endlessly. Perhaps no one could accept a husband who wouldn’t play with the children, but instead whispered into their ears about forensics, how death wasn’t the end, and how “cadavers can talk.”
Looking back many years later, Lu Ting’an realized he had been deeply influenced by his father.
Their family hadn’t been wealthy. After his sister was born, his mother cut her own spending to the bone, not buying a single new dress for a year. That’s when he decided he had to study something that made money to change their lives. So, he chose Finance. He was brilliant and a fast learner; even the top-tier finance courses were easy for him. But alongside his major, he began obsessively following cold cases and naturally gravitating toward criminology books in the library.
In his junior year, Lu Ting’an acknowledged his true interests and decided to switch paths for his Master’s. He chose Psychology. Those two years were the most fulfilling of his life. He was at the library the moment it opened and only returned to his dorm when his roommates were heading to bed. He attended countless psychology lectures at his university and neighboring schools.
He thought his path would be smooth until the end of his senior year, when his father led a joint task force on a drug raid. Ten went in; two came back. His father—who just days earlier had bragged on the phone about getting promoted to Chief after this mission—never mentioned that if the mission failed, he’d be blown to pieces. They searched the ruins and found nothing but scraps of his clothing.
After that, Lu Ting’an completely abandoned the idea of becoming a psychologist. He was willing to be a hero like his father, but he couldn’t bear to see his mother wash her face in tears every day, and he didn’t dare think about who would pay for his sister’s expensive medical bills if something happened to him. So, in the golden age of the internet, he chose to become an influencer.
Lu Ting’an never regretted his choices; every industry has its own hardships and glory. He just never expected that after something as bizarre as “transmigrating into a book,” he would end up following his father’s old path after all.
‘Did my father feel like this after catching a killer?’ A release of tension, a moment to mourn the dead, and a surge of pride for taking out the trash of society. If so, perhaps he finally understood why his father spent his whole life on the front lines.
“Lu Ting’an.”
Someone called his name from behind. Lu Ting’an’s thoughts snapped back from his past life. He turned to find Gu Yingzhou standing behind him, staring with a complex expression.
“Officer Gu, what is it?” Lu Ting’an smiled. “I know, you want to thank me, right? If I hadn’t stayed calm and rattled Zhou Jinyao’s nerves, you wouldn’t have caught him so easily.”
That was the exact wrong thing to say. Mentioning it only reminded Gu Yingzhou of how terrifyingly close things had been. He knew Lu Ting’an had provoked Zhou Jinyao to create an opening to save Jiang Caiting, and that was exactly why he was angry. At the orchard house, he had clearly told him to prioritize his own safety. Lu Ting’an had agreed perfectly, only to act recklessly the moment it mattered.
A man like Zhou Jinyao was already a desperate criminal. With his intense jealousy and narcissistic personality, Lu Ting’an’s mere presence was enough to trigger his dark side, let alone those piercing truths he had spat out. The urge to kill Lu Ting’an had been so strong that even a bullet wound to the leg couldn’t stop him. If Lu Ting’an hadn’t been agile enough to dodge, it would be him on that stretcher right now.
Gu Yingzhou’s face was cold, completely forgetting that he had come over to offer a few words of comfort in case the kid was shaken.
He commanded in a stern voice, “When we get back to the station, copy the Police Manual three times. Hand it to me tomorrow morning.”
Lu Ting’an: “…” ?
He stared at Gu Yingzhou, his eyes screaming: Are you for real?
After a long silence, he asked tentatively, “You actually want me to copy it?”
‘Do all you ‘Sirs’ burn the bridge after crossing it?’ Less than twenty minutes ago, he was a hero who had helped crack the case. Sure, his behavior was a bit rash, but in that situation, wasn’t a police officer supposed to prioritize the hostage’s safety?
Gu Yingzhou gave a cold snort. “A blunt pencil is better than a sharp memory. Since you can’t seem to remember my words, I’ll find another way to make them stick.”
Lu Ting’an: “…” ‘Petty.’
After a brief pause, Gu Yingzhou added, “And you aren’t allowed to let that little lackey of yours in Logistics copy it for you.”
“I don’t have a ‘little lackey’.”
“The one named Ah Hai.”
“…”
Lu Ting’an pursed his lips and went silent. He would never admit it, but Gu Yingzhou was actually quite a good judge of character.
Jiang Caiting was rushed by ambulance to a private hospital where the Hu family held shares. Soon, her medical report was released.
“Jiang Caiting’s condition has stabilized. Upon examination, she has no fewer than ten soft tissue contusions on her body, and her hands and feet have varying degrees of burns—likely from her attempts at self-rescue and the abuse inflicted by Zhou Jinyao. Fortunately, the injuries aren’t life-threatening and will heal with rest. Most importantly, Zhou Jinyao did not sexually assault her; otherwise, the psychological shadow on that girl might have lasted a lifetime.”
In the Major Crimes office, Inspector Ke Yandong was in a reasonably good mood, a far cry from his yelling match this morning. “You all did a good job on this case. Locating the hostage in time and minimizing the harm done to her was crucial. Hu Zounan is very grateful to Major Crimes Unit 1; he’s already contacted the military hospital to arrange a donation of medical supplies.”
“You’ve all worked hard these past few days. Once the case is officially closed, I’ll give you a day off to get some proper rest.”
“Agh—only one day off, sir?” Yu Qiyin slumped onto her desk dejectedly. “You’ve got to be kidding. Unit 1 hasn’t had a real break in over a month, and it’s not like we’re the only unit in the station. My elders have been nagging me to go on dates; if this keeps up, I’ll never have time to meet anyone.”
Ke Yandong patted her on the head and said crossly, “Fine, fine. If you want a date, why look elsewhere? I think the members of Unit 1 are all quite decent.”
Yu Qiyin: “?”
She turned her head to scan her partners, her mouth twitching.
Hu Zhen’s daughter was already a teenager in middle school; for all they knew, she was already holding hands with some cute boy. Fu Yirong’s age fit her ideal type, but he seemed so… dense. It was that kind of “pure stupidity” that completely killed any romantic spark. Li Chongyang was too young—a sunny puppy who had just entered society with nothing but work on his mind. There was no room for women in his heart; he’d rather spend all day running after Officer Gu.
As for Gu Yingzhou… she only glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before quickly looking away in resignation.
She didn’t dare. She couldn’t even imagine what this man would be like with a lover. If he were in a good mood, he’d probably reward them with a ten-kilometer weighted run; if he were in a bad mood, he’d probably punish them by copying the Police Manual.
Whoever dated Officer Gu would be in for a world of suffering.
Slumping back onto her desk, Yu Qiyin pointed a stubborn finger toward the door. “I don’t want anyone from Unit 1. If I’m really going to date someone, I want someone like Lu Ting’an.”
“…”
It was as if a flock of crows had just flown overhead. The office fell into a dead silence, broken only by Ke Yandong, whose jaw had nearly hit the floor, as he slapped her head with a bit more force this time. “Don’t lose your mind! You want to date Lu Ting’an? You were born the wrong gender for that!”
Unit 1 Members: “…”
Meanwhile, in the Logistics Unit, Lu Ting’an—who was sitting upright and dutifully copying the manual—suffered the collateral damage of being mentioned and let out a sneeze.