Siheyuan came through and sent Jia Zhang to prison

Zhao Lei nodded emphatically, his jawline taut like a piece of tempered steel, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Understood." The single word resonated in the silent office, echoing as if he had made a do-or-die decision.

The air in the office seemed to thicken with the weight of this silent struggle, like the oppressive stillness before a summer downpour, making even breathing feel heavy and suffocating, pressing down on one's chest. The night outside the window grew increasingly dark, as thick as indissoluble ink, spreading from the horizon and soaking the entire sky. The scattered streetlights in the distance appeared even dimmer in the dense darkness, their light swallowed up, leaving only a blurry halo. A few rays of light shone through the dust-covered glass, casting crooked patches of light on the floor, swaying gently in the night breeze, like restless ghosts lurking on the ground. This covert battle revolving around power, interests, and intrigue had only just begun; no one knew what kind of earth-shattering storm would ultimately be unleashed beneath this seemingly calm surface.

Silence lingered in the office for a moment. The wall clock ticked away, each tick like a heavy hammer blow, making time seem endless. He Feng picked up the now-cold enamel teacup on the table, a fine layer of water droplets clinging to its surface. He took a sip of the bitter, strong tea, the taste exploding on his tongue like gall. Tea stains formed a thin brown mark at the bottom of the cup, like unspoken worries. He set the cup down, the bottom clinking softly against the table, breaking the silence. His gaze fell on Zhao Lei's face, his tone softening slightly: "Let's not rush into action. The clues we have are still a tangled mess, not solid enough. If we alert them and make them wary, it'll be much harder to follow the trail." He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, making a rhythmic "tap-tap" sound, as if sorting through his chaotic thoughts. "Tell me first, what has that Xiao Liu been doing lately? Has anything unusual happened?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Lei immediately toned down his earlier sharpness. He pulled out a few pages with red bookmarks from his black notebook. The edges of the pages were slightly curled, and the pages were filled with dense notes written in blue pen, the handwriting so neat it looked printed, and the organization so clear it was easy to read. He cleared his throat, his voice carrying a hint of competence: "Xiao Liu has been quite 'well-behaved' lately. He arrives and leaves work on time every day, his clock-in records have never been wrong, and he only nods to his colleagues, without saying much. But what's unusual is this 'well-behaved' behavior—besides last Wednesday, Friday, and this Monday, he went to the archives three times to retrieve files on old dock cases from ten years ago, specifically the sensational smuggling ship sinking case. He even made copies of the witness testimonies from that time, especially the one from Old Wang, the dockworker, and read it several times."

He paused, turned a creased page, and continued, "Also, he asked Old Zhou from the evidence department twice about the progress of the seized smuggled medicinal herbs. He asked excessively detailed questions, even about the storage time, sealing number, and the signature of the person in charge. Old Zhou found it strange and mentioned it to me. By the way, the day before yesterday, around 3 PM, he went to the Chengnan branch under some pretext, saying he was checking a request for assistance in a theft case. But I had someone check there, and the Chengnan branch hasn't issued any such request recently; it's completely fabricated. He stayed there for almost an hour before coming back. We haven't found out who he met or what he said yet. The surveillance cameras there happened to be under maintenance that afternoon, as if it was deliberately arranged."

He Feng nodded, drew a circle on the table with his fingertip, and said with a deep look in his eyes, "I'm leaving this to you. Use our most discreet people. Remember, don't disturb him. Like a fish in water, don't let him realize the fishhook is there. I want to see who's behind this hopping grasshopper and how many foreshadowings are hidden in this game."

He Feng was signing a thick stack of documents, his pen gliding across the smooth paper with a soft, clear "swish" sound that echoed in the quiet office. His brow was furrowed, his mind preoccupied with the details of Jiang Hu's murder case that Zhao Lei had just reported—the bloodstained dagger at the scene, the beggar's distinctive tattoos, and the half-piece of jade clutched tightly in his hand before his death. These clues were like scattered beads, impossible to string together. He was completely unaware that behind the slightly ajar door, Ma Xin had been standing silently for a while, several documents clutched in her hand, her breathing barely audible, her eyes following his pen movements. She had overheard every word of his conversation with Zhao Lei about the case.

Just then, Zhao Lei pushed open the door and came out, his shoulder almost bumping into the person in the doorway. He stopped abruptly, paused for a moment after recognizing Ma Xin, and then gave a familiar smile: "Expert Ma, are you here to see Director He?"

Ma Xin seemed startled by the sudden noise, the documents in her hand trembled slightly, but she quickly put on a natural smile and said in a light tone, "Yes, there are a few reports from last week that need Director He's signature."

Zhao Lei didn't think much of it—Ma Xin had followed He Feng all the way up from the grassroots police station, and for the past two years she had been in charge of document filing in the team. She was always efficient and meticulous, and everyone in the team treated her like family. He smiled and waved his hand: "Okay, then you can go in. I just remembered that I still have an appraisal report to pick up from the evidence department, so I'll go over there first." After saying that, he strode away, his leather shoes making a crisp "thump-thump" sound on the terrazzo floor tiles of the corridor, gradually fading into the distance.

Ma Xin stood at the door for a few seconds, making sure Zhao Lei was far away, before gently pushing the door open, her footsteps extremely light, as if afraid of disturbing something. She gently placed the documents in her hand on the table in front of He Feng: "Director He, these are the case closing reports for those theft cases last week. Please sign them and file them."

He Feng didn't even look up. He reached out and took the document, quickly flipped through a few pages, and after confirming that everything was correct, he signed his name at the end with a flourish, then casually placed it on the pile of documents on the corner of the table: "That's all?"

"Well, that's all for now." Ma Xin nodded, her gaze inadvertently sweeping over the case file that had just been closed on the corner of the table. The cover vaguely showed the words "Jiang Hu." She casually asked, "Director He, so... that fraud case in Chengnan last time, was it just cancelled? I remember the victim's family came to ask about the progress a couple of days ago."