Chapter Thirteen: Li Xingchen Is Beaten

Tang Jingjing had nearly finished eating and called for the bill. Li Xingchen, seeing it was time to pay, quickly grabbed his phone and shouted, "I'm going outside to take a call."

But Tang Jingjing pressed him down, saying, "You can take it later," and snatched his phone away.

The chubby owner smiled and said, "It's eleven hundred in total. I'll give you a discount, make it a thousand."

Tang Jingjing pulled out her wallet without hesitation.

Li Xingchen grinned mischievously at Tang Jingjing. "Sis, did you forget your wallet again?"

"Hey, watch your mouth," Tang Jingjing snapped. "What do you mean, 'again'?"

Watching Tang Jingjing's expression, I knew what she was up to and chuckled. "Never mind, I'll handle it."

No wonder Li Xingchen tried to escape when Tang Jingjing offered to treat—turns out she was planning to dine and dash.

Tang Jingjing blushed in embarrassment. "I really did forget..."

Li Xingchen said, "Forget it, Brother Yu, let's split it fifty-fifty. You're just an intern forensic doctor; you don't make much."

"That's not good. I forgot my wallet too," I teased Li Xingchen.

Li Xingchen's nose nearly twisted in frustration.

The next day, we reported to the bureau. We went straight to Director Wang and briefed him on our progress.

Upon learning that we intended to start with the financial disputes among the individuals involved, Director Wang said he could speak to the local banks and ask them to cooperate with our investigation.

Opposite the Academy of Finance was a bustling commercial street, so there were plenty of banks nearby. I suggested we split up, each responsible for investigating one bank, which would basically cover all the nearby institutions.

Once we assigned tasks, we scattered to our respective banks.

Halfway there, my father unexpectedly called, briefly inquiring about my situation.

What a parent's heart—so full of care. I laughed and told him everything was fine, that I was working as a forensic medicine intern at the police station.

My father was silent for a full minute.

He finally sighed and cursed, "That damn old Wang!"

Hearing my father curse Director Wang so openly, I realized his background was far more complicated than I’d imagined. Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked a probing question.

He didn’t answer but instead said, "Do you want to be an associate professor in forensic medicine? The pay is good, no danger. Though I’m retired, I still have some influence."

I quickly declined, saying my life was fulfilling as it was.

My father's tone suddenly grew serious. "Son, you’ve grown up, and I’m proud. I just want you to remember—no matter what dangers lie ahead on the path you’ve chosen, you must see it through."

A sense of foreboding rose in my heart, though I suspected I was just being overly sensitive after dealing with so many cases lately. I laughed and replied, "Don't worry! Director Wang values me highly; he says I’m promising."

My father replied coldly, "Fine, that's all," and hung up.

After the call, I returned to the case.

We’d already identified the deceased migrant worker: Song Yuanhai, who was neighbors with Lin Yunshan.

I had a list including Song Yuanhai’s and Lin Yunshan’s families, even their friends and relatives. If there were financial disputes, it didn’t have to be directly between the individuals; the cautious party might use a relative or friend’s bank account or passbook.

A lobby manager received me. Perhaps because I looked young, she spoke rather coldly; or maybe she was just like that. I didn’t care, focusing solely on the investigation.

The results came in: only Lin Yunshan’s daughter had a bank card at this Industrial and Commercial Bank branch. Each month, there were regular deposits, all from hospital corporate accounts—nothing suspicious.

I wondered if the other party had used a stranger’s bank card. If someone was determined, it would be easy enough to obtain one.

Just then, Tang Jingjing called, saying she hadn’t found anything.

She complained, "How could such a big family not have a single bank card? Do they have a grudge against banks?"

I explained, smiling, "They’re rural folk, living off the husband's construction work. Why would they have money to save? Bank cards aren’t as widespread in the countryside as you think."

Tang Jingjing retorted, "Nonsense, there’s no place that poor."

I didn’t bother explaining further; in her worldview, all rural areas had achieved moderate prosperity.

I called Old Lin, who said he hadn’t found anything either.

But then Li Xingchen called. I felt a surge of hope—perhaps he’d uncovered something—and quickly answered.

As soon as I picked up, Li Xingchen started cursing, "I found nothing! I’m at the hospital, hurry up and bring me something to eat."

Startled, I asked what had happened.

Li Xingchen replied, "I got beaten up."

"Did you harass the bank staff?" I teased.

"You’re the one who harassed them—your whole family did," Li Xingchen said. "Hurry up, People's Hospital, just handle the paperwork for me first."

"Are you stupid? You’re a cop—let the hospital take care of you."

"Take care of what? I haven’t been officially hired yet, so I don’t have that privilege."

My head was spinning—the case hadn’t progressed at all, and now we’d lost a key member.

I called Old Lin, explaining I had to visit Li Xingchen at the hospital. His brain was precious; if it got damaged, we’d be in real trouble.

Old Lin said, "Go ahead, I’ll handle things on Li Xingchen’s end."

I hurried to the hospital, finding Li Xingchen sitting in the lobby, clutching his head, blood seeping through his fingers.

I rushed over and asked what had happened. Li Xingchen replied, "A few punks intercepted me on the way to the bank and beat me up before running off."

"Why didn’t you call Li Hong? A few thugs aren’t even enough for him to warm up."

Li Xingchen sighed, "Don't mention it. That guy was too slow; the punks left just before he arrived. I thought he could help with the paperwork, so I brought him along, but he doesn’t know anything—almost registered me in gynecology..."

I was speechless.

Li Hong returned just then, saying his registration was done.

Li Xingchen breathed a sigh of relief but remained aloof toward Li Hong.

As we walked, I asked Li Hong why it took so long to register.

Li Hong said he’d never been to a hospital before.

Thinking about it, that made sense. With his burly physique, he probably never got sick.

Li Xingchen wasn’t in any real danger—just a cut on his scalp and a few bruises. No need for a drip. I was relieved.

As we were about to leave, Tang Jingjing rushed in, frantic. Seeing Li Xingchen was okay, she relaxed but immediately started scolding him, "You little brat—do you have any shame? I called you so many times and you never answered."

Li Xingchen quickly pulled out his phone and saw seven or eight missed calls, all from Tang Jingjing.

He was so moved, he nearly cried. "Sis, you care about me so much—are you in love with me?"

"Love you? Not a chance," Tang Jingjing retorted. "You didn’t even call to let us know you were safe."

As Tang Jingjing was about to unleash another tirade, I stepped in. "Alright, alright, he’s fine now."

Tang Jingjing grumbled that she’d deal with him later.

She then asked, "Why did they beat you?"

"Probably because I’m too handsome," Li Xingchen said.

"Want me to beat you?" she threatened.

"How would I know? Thugs hit people on a whim—what’s so unusual about that?" Li Xingchen replied, face gloomy.

Li Hong suddenly spoke, "Could it be they wanted to stop Li Xingchen from investigating the bank?"

His words were a wake-up call. Why choose this moment to attack him? The timing and circumstances were too peculiar; this seemed highly likely.

I hadn’t expected this seemingly muscle-bound, simple-minded guy to have such detective instincts.

Not good—did this mean Old Lin was in danger investigating his bank?

I didn’t waste a second and called Old Lin, telling him not to leave the bank until we met up with him.

Old Lin said he understood and mentioned he might have found a possible lead, urging us to come quickly.

Damn it—those people really were trouble!

I immediately gathered everyone, and we rushed off to the Postal Savings Bank.