Silent Testimony - Chapter 74

From the corner of her eye, Li Hewei caught the dark shadow on the ground. Alerted, she tied her long hair into a makeshift ponytail and held her breath. When gauze soaked in anesthetic pressed against her nose and mouth, she feigned unconsciousness. Then, seizing her opponent’s arm, she dropped her head and knees quickly, using the mechanical advantage of a lever to throw him over her shoulder.

“Yan Chen?” The assailant lying on his back wore no hood; Li Hewei recognized him instantly. She couldn’t fathom his logic—if he had gone to such lengths to evade capture, why would he commit crime after crime?

Yan Chen remained silent. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his back, he stood up and flicked open a telescopic baton from his waist, swinging it at her. Li Hewei dodged to the side and grabbed his shoulder, but he used an elbow strike to break her grip, pinning her arm and shoving her against the right-hand wall.

Cough, cough. Li Hewei was still running a fever. The medicine she had taken half an hour ago made her head heavy and sluggish. She could only grit her teeth and watch as the baton swung toward her again. In a flash of lightning, her physical instincts took over. She dodged, recovered her footing, and delivered a sharp knee strike to Yan Chen’s abdomen.

After three consecutive hits, Yan Chen finally let go. Clutching his stomach, he retreated two steps, discarded the cumbersome baton, and pulled a wire garrote from his pocket, hiding it in his sleeve.

“You’re quite lucky. You were the target twice, yet you’re unscathed,” Yan Chen panted, standing two meters away. “I’ll be honest—I kidnapped the wrong person with that ‘Tao’ woman, but I didn’t mess with the brakes because…”

At the mention of Tao Ling, the coldness in Li Hewei’s eyes turned to ice. She grabbed a discarded wooden plank left by a renovating tenant and swung it at him. Yan Chen ducked, covering his head with his hands to absorb the blow. Seeing an opening, he lunged, pinning her arms and spinning her around to loop the wire garrote over her neck.

Fortunately, Li Hewei raised her hand just in time to block the wire from her throat.

“I originally just wanted to track the police to see how the investigation was going. I didn’t want to mess with you, but someone wanted to ‘borrow a knife to kill’ and offered a 100,000 yuan reward.” He tightened the wire, pulling the ends outward with a cruel laugh. “100,000—not even half my annual salary. But I like a challenge. I like the thrill. I like seeing you all helpless.”

Yan Chen was 180cm tall, and the disparity in strength was significant. Though Li Hewei’s grappling skills were superior, her fever had sapped her energy. The wire cut into her palms, leaving bloody welts, and her neck was scratched. Her face flushed red as she pushed back, suppressing her rage to think of an escape.

“In the fifth case of The Last Survivor, two officers die a miserable death—one drowns by the river, and one is strangled with a wire. Do you like my arrangement?”

Drowning… The air seemed to stagnate. Her breathing grew heavy. Li Hewei hammered her elbow into his side. Yan Chen ignored the pain, maintaining his iron grip on the wire.

“I’m telling you this because I’m certain you won’t leave here alive.”

“Is that so?” Li Hewei’s expression remained unreadable. She shifted her weight and suddenly stomped violently on Yan Chen’s foot. As his grip slackened, she thrust her arms through the space between his limbs, spun out of the wire’s reach, and snatched up the telescopic baton.

“Don’t know how to use it? Let me teach you.” During her training, Li Hewei had mastered practical baton strikes and self-defense. She stepped forward, feinting a strike to his left arm before pivoting to drive the tip directly into his elbow.

The strike was fast, precise, and ruthless.

Yan Chen let out a cry of agony.

Li Hewei’s bloodshot eyes were a ghoulish crimson. Yan Chen tried to tackle her, but she sidestepped to the left, striking his shoulders and back repeatedly without mercy.

“You came to me. This is self-defense.” In the world of the novel, Tao Ling had died in the line of duty because of Yan Chen’s thirst for “excitement.” Now, although Tao Ling was safe for the moment, she was still unconscious and her fate was uncertain. The image of Tao Ling pale and hooked to a ventilator flashed before Li Hewei’s eyes. Her suppressed emotions exploded. She avoided his vital organs but pursued Yan Chen with a barrage of strikes.

Yan Chen tried to use his size to counter, and they tumbled into a brawl. Li Hewei, wielding the weapon, caught his wrist with her left hand while slamming the baton into his lower back. She tripped him with her right foot, pinned his neck to the ground, and drove her knee into his ribs.

“Don’t struggle in vain.” Li Hewei struck the muscle on the outside of his knee.

“Sister!” Cheng Yingqiu and Qiu Wan, unable to find Li Hewei, had alerted the guard and checked the monitors. Seeing she had taken the elevator to B1, they rushed down just in time to see her in a state of controlled fury.

Li Hewei froze for a moment, then stood up. She released her right hand, and the baton clattered to the floor.

“Sister, are you okay?” Cheng Yingqiu rushed over to check her injuries. Li Hewei shook her head in silence.

Qiu Wan restrained Yan Chen and handcuffed him, her face full of concern. “What happened?”

“I came for the gloves. I was attacked. Self-defense,” Li Hewei said in a low voice, pointing to the marks on her neck, the welts on her hands, and her bruises. She added, “I avoided vitals. He has soft tissue injuries. It hurts, but he won’t die.”

“What gloves?”

Li Hewei walked to the trash bin in the corner, picked up the gloves, and handed them to Qiu Wan. “There are sealable bags at home. Pack them and take them to the station.”

Qiu Wan stared at the blood on the edge of the gloves. “Why did you suddenly come to dig through the trash?”

“A lucky guess. Trash collection starts at 6 AM, so I thought today’s trash would still be here.” Despite the fever, Li Hewei’s mind was sharp. “Yan Chen likely used Sevoflurane, an inhalational anesthetic. It doesn’t cause immediate unconsciousness, so Tao Ling definitely struggled.” She grabbed the man’s left hand, revealing a clear bite mark on the inside of his wrist.

“If I’m not mistaken, a DNA test of the blood will show two distinct profiles.”

Yan Chen hunched over in pain, his face ashen. “A total failure,” he muttered. At the time, he had been busy moving Tao Ling into the trunk and told Chao Hui to destroy the tools.

“Let’s go.” Qiu Wan shoved Yan Chen forward. “When we get back, Xiao Liao and Xiao Lyu are writing self-reflections. They were supposed to be the ones tailing you tonight.”

“Ha. I changed into a delivery driver’s uniform and wore a helmet. I walked right out the front gate.” Yan Chen looked like a wolf, his eyes locked onto Li Hewei. Then, he laughed with a sense of release. “He was right. You are the key to solving the case. I lost to you, not to those hacks.”

“The police force is a collective; there are no ‘hacks’ here,” Li Hewei’s voice trembled as her knuckles turned white. “Officer Qiu organized the rescue flawlessly under pressure. Officer Wang and Officer He led the Major Crimes and Technical units in a localized search for evidence. And Medical Examiner Tao, who is currently in a coma, discovered your MO was unusual, saw through the suitcase trick, and even while struggling, fought to leave evidence behind.”

Yan Chen shouted back frantically, “I admit to attacking the police! But what about Ma Zhiming? Where is the evidence for that?”

“Just attacking police? You’re a suspect for kidnapping, assault, and attempted murder. As for Ma Zhiming, I’m sure your ‘idiot teammate’ will provide the police with all the evidence we need.” Qiu Wan intentionally yanked Yan Chen’s injured arm, causing a scream to echo through the parking lot.

The October morning in Puchen was cool, with a damp autumn breeze. Li Hewei stood under the parking shed opposite the complex building, her phone to her ear. “Auntie, what did the doctor say?”

“Xiao Ling had a high fever in the early morning. They gave her some medicine and something about ‘physical’… I didn’t quite understand. The fever finally broke after midnight.”

Li Hewei guessed the doctor had used medication combined with physical cooling (tepid sponging).

A high fever usually meant inflammation from an infection—the most grueling part. Li Hewei’s eyes grew moist. “I’m at the station. I’ll go to the hospital later.”

“Xiao Wei, you’re busy with work. You don’t have to come.”

“I’m not busy. Auntie, remember to eat at the cafeteria.”

After Liu Yun thanked her and hung up, An Yu arrived and cut straight to the point. “Sister Wei, Yan Chen is a ‘Supermale’!”

“Supermale?”

“The XYY sex chromosome. No wonder he’s so irritable and aggressive.” An Yu handed the lab report to Li Hewei. “And we have a match for Xiao Tao. It’s definitive.”

Because Tao Ling had bitten Yan Chen, her saliva was present in his blood sample. Li Hewei’s expression returned to normal as she flipped through the report while walking. “Good. Give it to the Major Crimes unit.”

“Hewei.” Qiu Wan, returning from breakfast, called out and handed her a stack of papers. “Evidence that Chao Hui was a ghostwriter. This is a 2013 outline and character drafts. But Ma Zhiming claimed in interviews that he started conceiving The Last Survivor in March of last year.”

An Yu was amazed. “So all his published novels were written by someone else?”

Li Hewei corrected her. “Chao Hui’s ghostwriting was voluntary, but Ma Zhiming’s first seven novels were actually plagiarized from Le Qi.”

“Speaking of Le Qi, she said Ma Zhiming destroyed all the evidence long ago to avoid getting caught.” As the elevators were under maintenance, they took the stairs. Qiu Wan held the railing, recalling her conversation with Le Qi. “She was acting shifty and inconsistent. I think she’s hiding something.”

Li Hewei gestured for her to continue.

“She’s hiding something on behalf of Zhu Hong.”

The name sounded familiar. “Zhu Hong? Le Qi’s aunt?”

“Exactly. Zhu Hong is the Editor-in-Chief of Zhongyun Publishing, Yan Chen’s direct supervisor, and the mastermind who made Ma Zhiming famous.”

“The Editor-in-Chief? The mastermind?” Li Hewei frowned at the information overload.

“Yes. I contacted her ten minutes ago. She was driving but said she’d call back.” At the third-floor landing, Qiu Wan’s phone rang. She gestured to Li Hewei, and they stepped into a meeting room to take the call.

When Qiu Wan explained the situation, Zhu Hong was blunt. “Two years ago, I arranged for Yan Chen to contact Ma Zhiming. I built him up, marketed him, and recommended him to film companies, turning him into the hottest mystery writer in the country.”

“To what end?”

“The higher they climb, the harder they fall. I knew Yan Chen was a vindictive person, so I intentionally played matchmaker between them.” Zhu Hong’s voice was calm and flat, devoid of anger. “The goal was to make Ma Zhiming pay for his domestic abuse of Xiao Qi and his life of fraud. I just didn’t expect him to end up dead in Puchen.”