Qin Guan sat in the interrogation room like a wooden puppet.
This was different from the office where he had spent the previous night.
Naturally, his treatment had also changed drastically—he now sat in a narrow, specialized seat, his hands firmly cuffed to the desk.
They had handcuffed him.
Yes, they had the right to do so now. Even as a professional lawyer, Qin Guan couldn't dispute this. Qi Min was missing, and as her lover on the business trip, he was the prime suspect. But being a suspect alone wasn't enough to restrict his freedom without concrete evidence or witnesses.
But now things were different.
After Qi Min's disappearance, her phone had resurfaced in Qin Guan's possession.
To be precise, her phone had been with him since her "disappearance" three weeks ago.
That phone had originally meant nothing—if Qi Min had returned alive, it would have been useless. If Qin Guan hadn't been busy dealing with Xu Ruyi, he would have returned the broken device to Qi Min long ago.
Because it had lost its purpose, Qin Guan hadn't paid it any attention.
Yes, he'd been careless.
Exhaustion, anxiety, confusion, and negligence had led him to take the police to the auto repair shop. Instead of redirecting their suspicion toward Xu Ruyi, he'd foolishly trapped himself.
The door creaked open. A young, unfamiliar officer placed two steamed buns and a cup of soy milk in front of Qin Guan. "Eat something."
He still had the right to eat.
He needed food—after a night of torment and hunger, it might already be past noon, and he hadn't had a single grain of rice. He'd felt hungry earlier that morning, but now his stomach and chest seemed stuffed with cotton—fluffy, dense, immovable, undigestible. Pressing on it only made it spring back.
The buns emitted a warm, wheaty aroma, a familiar scent that threatened to drag Qin Guan back to his childhood days in the countryside, where he'd subsisted on steamed buns and cornmeal…
He took a deep breath, pushing away those unbearable memories.
He had to eat. He needed strength for what was coming.
The real battle was just beginning—the door wasn't fully closed, and snippets of argument seeped through the narrow crack.
"Three weeks! How much time have we wasted?! He's been misleading us the whole damn time! Every second we've spent on him—gone to hell!"
"What's with the lawyer? Think they're special? Huh? Does his firm have complaints? Or does he personally? Which procedure did I violate? I haven't laid a finger on him!"
"Yeah, I confiscated his belongings, his phone. Followed protocol! The search warrant's already approved!"
"I didn't rough him up! Sure, I slammed a chair, but didn't touch him! There's surveillance in here! How can I not be furious? He won't say a word! Clams up completely! He's still dragging this out—three weeks! And he wants to keep wasting our time!"
Even through the door, Lao He's rage was palpable.
No one could blame him. Qi Min had been missing for three weeks. For three weeks, the investigation had followed the wrong path because during that time, Qi Min's phone had kept contacting Li Yang. Even her social media had posted updates intermittently!
All of this misdirection traced back to Qin Guan.
The critical point was that phone.
Because of it, the police had been baffled—was there even a disappearance case, or was this just a lovers' quarrel between Li Yang and Qi Min?
Because of that phone, the entire team had spent the first ten days utterly confused, unable to distinguish truth from fiction. Qi Min had not only "communicated" with Li Yang but even posted location-tagged photos and submitted a resignation email.
Who could have imagined the phone had been in Qin Guan's hands all along? Who would have guessed that all those "messages," social media updates, and resignation letters were Qin Guan's doing?
"Qin Guan, staying silent won't help. The fact is, Qi Min's phone has been with you this whole time. Just two days ago, someone used it to message Li Yang about luggage. That was you, wasn't it? Where's the phone? Even if you don't talk, we'll find it. Where is Qi Min? Where are you hiding her? Answer!"
Uncertain which round of interrogators this was, Qin Guan kept his mouth tightly shut.
He wasn't stalling.
He simply didn't know how to respond. From the moment he realized his mistake, his mind had gone blank, incapable of thought.
This was unprecedented—in court, he'd faced countless sudden, thorny situations. When prosecutors ambushed him with damning evidence, he'd always stayed calm, countered swiftly, and struck back with precision.
That was why clients trusted him. That was how he'd earned his wealth—why those investors had sought him first to start a firm.
Because he was capable. Competent.
But now, he felt like a stranger to himself, no longer the composed lawyer from the courtroom.
He desperately tried to claw back the blood draining from his body, to reclaim the cold rationality and wit that had always flowed through his veins.
But they'd vanished, intangible and unreachable.
"Talk!"
The interrogator slammed the table.
Qin Guan stared blankly, numb.
Talk? Say what? Confess everything truthfully?
His affair. Qi Min's fake death. His disposal of the body. Returning home to blackmail demands of 300,000—or three million?
And then?
That would expose the origin of the 300,000—how he'd once schemed against Qi Min.
Which would explain the three million—Qi Min dared demand so much because she held his secrets.
His plan to jump ship and abandon his old firm. How he'd fabricated evidence to win cases…
Qi Min might even know about that incident…
Ah, that incident!
No. Every one of these truths, if revealed, would land him in prison. Each detail couldn't withstand scrutiny. How could he speak? How dare he?
Even if he omitted the critical parts, admitting Qi Min's fake death and blackmail would overturn all his previous statements—a self-inflicted betrayal, proving every word he'd said to the police was a lie!
All fabricated!
Then they'd investigate him thoroughly. Reporters would swarm his firm. His employer would abandon him. Colleagues would kick him while he was down—
Even if he escaped legal punishment due to lack of evidence (no body), his career and future would be ruined.
Was this Xu Ruyi's goal?
Thinking of Xu Ruyi's gentle face, her sweet, affectionate smile from days prior, Qin Guan felt fury and resentment churn like twin tidal waves in his chest.
It was all that woman's doing!
She was the mastermind behind this!
The woman he'd always underestimated!
She controlled Auntie Feng, possibly Qi Min, and even that seemingly honest auto repair shop owner!
As this thought struck him, he suddenly heard the shop owner's voice: "I've said all I know. You called me here, but my story hasn't changed. My shop's busy. This really has nothing to do with me…"
The owner had just arrived, brought in by Lao He to clarify his earlier testimony.
"Him! It's him!"
The door wasn't fully closed. Hearing the voice, Qin Guan's stagnant heart jolted awake. "Arrest him! You've got the right man! He's been bribed—must have been!"
He lunged forward, handcuffs clanging against the desk. "By Xu Ruyi! He's framing me on Xu Ruyi's orders! That bastard! Auto shop guy—how much did Xu Ruyi pay you? She told you to say those things, didn't she? You fucking traitor! You're setting me up! I'll kill you!"
His roars froze everyone outside the door.
The frail owner, already terrified at the police station, turned ghostly pale at Qin Guan's screams. He huddled behind his wife, not daring to breathe.
"Wh-what kind of maniac is this? A thug! Acting so vicious in broad daylight! This is criminal!"
Behind the shop owner's wife stood a plump old woman—his mother-in-law, who'd insisted on accompanying her daughter and son-in-law out of worry.
Seeing her son-in-law threatened, she bristled with indignation.
Qin Guan kept howling, "Xu Ruyi! Why aren't you investigating her? It's all Xu Ruyi's doing! She bribed him!"
"Who's Xu Ruyi?" The mother-in-law tensed at the unfamiliar female name, glancing at her daughter and son-in-law.
"No idea!" The owner shook his head. "Never heard that name!"
"Then why would she target you? How old is she? Wait—was she that woman who called last afternoon?" The mother-in-law suddenly frowned. "I answered. She asked to pick up keys. Had a soft, sugary voice—definitely young! Heard my voice and got upset, kept asking, 'Where's the boss? Let me talk to him!'"