Criminal detention required the suspect to be caught in the act or a major suspect, plus one of seven urgent circumstances.
With the current evidence: organized prostitution only pointed to Jiang Nan’s associates; he himself didn’t meet the threshold for detention.
The suspected rape-murder drowning case was just in early investigation—no evidence even proving it was rape-murder yet, let alone linking it to Jiang Nan. Just a possible tie to WCC.
So Jiang Nan had no basis for direct arrest. He was better suited to…
Serve as a lever to pry out the truth.
Shen Li narrowed his eyes, glanced at the driver in the car, then pulled Lao Sun and the rookie a good five or six steps farther away, completely out of the driver’s earshot.
Lowering his voice, he continued, “So in the next few days, has leadership approved invoking Article 254 of the Procedural Regulations?”
Lao Sun nodded immediately. “Yeah, approved. Communications surveillance order’s in place too. The value of the equipment he deliberately damaged hits the threshold for ‘intentional destruction of property.’ Once we cut him loose, we can legally monitor everything he does after—every call he makes, we’ll hear it.”
The rookie blinked, then suddenly got it, as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. “Ah? Wait! So the program group set up that segment on purpose, not letting him use his phone, just waiting for him to flip out? We nabbed him for picking a fight so we could release him and monitor him legally?!”
“Exactly.”
The rookie scratched his head. “But Master, I still don’t get it. If we want to monitor him, why not just go straight to Article 254? Why grab him once, then let him go?”
Shen Li sighed impassively, recalling how he’d once led Zhao Rong and Lin Jie. He glanced at Lao Sun, who was sighing too, and explained flatly, “If we just bugged him normally, he’d at most ask why the club got shut down. He wouldn’t touch on the drowning from three years ago.”
“Oh, right, no one would bring that up…” The young cop blinked rapidly, piecing it together anew. “So we wait for him to pick the fight himself, grab him for that, make his buddies think it’s just a routine affray charge. Then we grill him repeatedly, accuse him of being involved in that rape-murder from three years back! That way, when we let him go and monitor his calls, he’ll start biting at everyone left and right, dragging in more people and giving us more confessions to work with?”
“You’ve finally got it,” Lao Sun said, tapping his apprentice on the head. “You’re a slow one.”
“Hiss.” The rookie winced and whispered ultra-softly, “But isn’t this like entrapment?”
Lao Sun scolded him. “It’s not inducing a crime—the equipment damage was all his own doing!”
Shen Li nodded coolly and added, “After release, we’ll give him a backup phone and notify him upfront it has recording.”
“What if he clams up to protect his buddies and asks nothing?”
Lao Sun nodded, his mouth curving up. “That’s where we thank Little Qian for picking a good one to plant.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry, Qian Xingzhi chose the dumbest one to slip in there. By the time he’s out, he’ll be too panicked to think straight. Look at him just now, yapping nonstop about lawyers. Once he hears he’s suspected of murder, the second he’s free, he’ll be like a rabid dog snapping at everyone.” Lao Sun paused, then grinned. “Haha, leadership heard about this guy smashing stuff first thing this morning and specifically praised the idea. Said it’s brilliant. Shen Li, they’re gonna give you credit for it.”
A faint smirk touched Shen Li’s face, softening the icy frost there a bit. “Credit for what? It was Qian Xingzhi’s idea.”
They chatted a few more sentences before Shen Li nodded and headed back to the car.
Xiao Zhang, the driver who’d brought them, had gotten a few tasty bits of gossip at first, his eyes nearly popping out.
But once they moved farther away to talk, he hadn’t heard a word.
Seeing Shen Li get in, he hurriedly buckled up and hit the gas, starting the car.
They hadn’t gone a kilometer before he couldn’t hold back. “Shen… Shen… uh, Mr. Shen?”
Xiao Zhang had wanted to call him Captain Shen, but it felt off coming from him.
Shen Li looked up from his phone screen. “Mm?”
“You’re… you’re listed as a teacher, right? I saw your profile. You’re clearly an elementary school teacher?”
“Mm.” Shen Li replied expressionlessly. “Teacher now. Police was before.”
“Oh, oh… that’s quite a shift.”
Shen Li’s voice turned serious. “Don’t spread word about my old job. Today’s events…”
“I won’t, I won’t! My lips are sealed! Absolutely no telling!” Xiao Zhang straightened up, assuring Shen Li. But then another question bubbled up. “But what if Jiang Nan spills? If he gets a lawyer and pays for the smashed stuff, can he get out today?”
Shen Li eyed Xiao Zhang sharply and frowned. “You know the law?”
“A bit—a bit! Not much!”
Xiao Zhang stammered, and Shen Li couldn’t help but chuckle softly at it.
Xiao Zhang’s throat bobbed as he eyed Shen Li’s cool gaze in the rearview mirror. Finally, he blurted, “That murder thing you mentioned earlier… whoa, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear I just overheard by accident. If he’s really a killer but the evidence is thin, can we still nab him?”
Shen Li’s eyes sharpened. Those first few lines had been by the car door.
Sure enough, overheard.
“You need an arrest warrant for detention, not just filing a case.” Shen Li said curtly.
“Ohh~” Xiao Zhang’s eyes blinked wide, his mind turning quick. Then Shen Li’s cool voice asked, “Who’s in 208 in your building?”
“Huh? Which building?” Xiao Zhang licked his lips and glanced in the rearview mirror.
“Is there a second one?”
Shen Li stayed expressionless, his tone unhurried.
“Oh… 208? That’s our head guy’s room, Director Cao’s, I think?”
Shen Li let out a faint laugh and fell silent for a long moment, just quietly watching Xiao Zhang’s profile—a slick psychological play. “You close with him?”
Director Cao was Cao Sheng, formerly WCC’s marketing head.
Qian Xingzhi had mentioned it.
And Xiao Zhang, dispatched by Cao Sheng to drive, was clearly one of “his people.”
Xiao Zhang had no clue what Shen Li meant, but he knew Cao Sheng’s crowd’s shady ways. Grilled like this by a “former cop,” he rushed to distance himself. “Uh, yeah, I used to work under Director Cao. But so do tons of others. He’s also Director Li’s guy—we’re all in his crew.”
“Mm, relax,” Shen Li said evenly. “Just casually asking who’s in 208.”
“Oh…”
Xiao Zhang licked his lips again, sneaking another peek at Shen Li in the mirror.
Shen Li had gone quiet, no more prompting. Those cool eyes lowered slightly back to his phone, his aloof, handsome profile suddenly seeming harmless again—as if the earlier questioning had been imagined.
Xiao Zhang swallowed hard and couldn’t resist explaining himself. “I-I’m just a regular gofer. I work here ’cause the pay’s good, and I get to overhear some drama. My wife’s a fan, so I snag autographs for her. Speaking of—Mr. Shen, could you get the Great Film Emperor Qian to sign one for me?”
Shen Li: …
Shen Li figured the guy’s acting skills were subpar, diversion tactics weak.
Probably just a peripheral player, roped in by Cao Sheng to snoop on what went down.
So he let it slide.
“Oh, Qian Xingzhi’s signature? You want a real one or a fake?”
“Huh?” Xiao Zhang blinked. “Real, obviously…”
“Real one’s on his hand—go get it yourself.”
“…And a fake?”
“Fakes are at the seafood market. I don’t deal in forgeries.”
“Pfft!” Xiao Zhang laughed. “Mr. Shen, didn’t peg you for the humorous type!”
Shen Li had meant to warm things up a bit. He glanced at the young driver through the reflective car glass, paused, then circled back to the earlier topic. “You’re young. Figure out for yourself what’s right and what’s wrong.”
“…Huh?”
Xiao Zhang looked ready to defend himself right away.
Shen Li waved his hand to cut him off. “I’m just reminding you. There’s no accusation intended. Think it over yourself, and you don’t need to tell me anything.”
“Mm!”
“Want to add me on Weibo?” Shen Li asked proactively.
“Ah! C-can we?!”
“Sure. Otherwise, how would I get Qian Xingzhi’s autograph for you?”
“Got it!” Xiao Zhang, who had been stammering a little, seemed like a quick-witted guy. He immediately nodded eagerly in return. “If anything weird comes up from Director Cao or Director Li, I’ll definitely let you know!”
“Mm.”
Shen Li’s lips curved up slightly. He pulled up the group chat from the Program Group, sent over a friend request, and then settled quietly into the passenger seat. He scrolled through the Netizen Discussion Zone for a bit.
As soon as the screen loaded, the top spots were dominated by the hottest threads, all buzzing about the voting results that had wrapped up at midnight.
After all, following Su Xilan’s dramatic fallout that ended their collaboration, Qian Xingzhi had clinched first place as the “Observation Room Guest Most Like Ex-Husband Bro.” And since the episode from today hadn’t aired yet, there were still no official statements confirming whether Qian Xingzhi was the real ex-husband or not.
The fans were losing their minds with impatience, which explained the top posts:
[So who did Qian Xingzhi’s string of four 1s take out?] #Hot
[Qian Xingzhi and the “Real or Fake Ex-Husband Bro” Debate] #Hot
[What if Qian Xingzhi is a fake ex-husband! Drop an announcement already, I can’t take it!]
[If Qian Xingzhi is real, did he hook up with Shen Li??? Or Kris???] #Trending
[Shen Li, Shen Li, Shen Li! Please! Don’t! Date! Qian Xingzhi!] #Trending
Reflexively, Shen Li tapped into the one stacked with his own name repeated endlessly.
But instead of the barrage of curses and accusations he’d half-expected—like the unfiltered chat messages Geng Qiuqiu had forwarded him yesterday—the main post and its comment thread were flooded with identical lines:
[Don’t date that Qian guy, date me instead, Shen Li]
[Don’t date that Qian guy, date me instead, Shen Li]
…
[Don’t date that Qian guy, date me instead, Shen Li]
Shen Li narrowed his eyes, his finger instinctively scrolling down until he hit the third page. That was where he finally spotted a fresh comment that wasn’t just copy-pasted:
[Don’t date that Qian guy, and you don’t have to date me either. I just want Shen Li to be my mommy [sobbing] [total breakdown]]
Shen Li stared at the bizarre remark, not yet sure what to make of it.
Then notifications popped up in quick succession. [Copper Coin] had sent over several image messages—fresh screenshots from Weibo, timestamped just moments ago.
Shen Li’s brows furrowed as he opened the two images to view them properly.
The first was a retweet:
[@Qian Xingzhi-V retweets @Legal Education Classroom: Online harassment mostly falls under “self-reported cases.” A reminder to all netizens: If you’re facing online abuse, be sure to collect evidence and use legal channels to protect your rights.]
The second was an original post, looking like a polished PR statement.
Shen Li had figured Qian Xingzhi might be addressing the Su Xilan drama in detail, or maybe clarifying the voting results from yesterday.
But when he opened the image, he saw:
[@Qian Xingzhi-V:
Hello everyone, this is Qian Xingzhi.
Regarding yesterday’s incidents where fans waved my name around while committing online harassment—including doxxing and “opening boxes”—I’m utterly furious.
As a public figure, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. Effective immediately, I’m disbanding my official personal fan support group and will not create any similar organizations going forward. I hope you all like me for my work, and that you show your support without resorting to organized actions of any kind.
I don’t need fans handling comment control, data farming, or any other coordinated operations for me. I also ask everyone to stop all forms of online abuse.
Civilized browsing and rational speech are our shared responsibility.
Finally, thanks to all the normal, civil, law-abiding fans for your continued support.
We come together and part ways—no hard feelings. Our gatherings need no formal structure, and even after the curtain falls, we can meet again in the rivers and lakes.
Qian Xingzhi]
