Chapter Forty-Three: The Hunter and the Hunted

By now, it was already midday. Chen Hongxu sat upright in the interrogation room, saying nothing as he stared at the two officers before him, who continued their earnest persuasion.

“It’s already noon. If you’re just going to keep repeating the same two sentences, I’m hungry and I want to go home.” Seemingly bored, Chen Hongxu rose to his feet and stretched his arms and legs.

“Sit down! Don’t get cocky. This is the police station!” a younger officer snapped, standing up angrily.

“Of course, I know this is the police station!” Chen Hongxu nodded, replying seriously, “But since you don’t have any evidence to prove I committed a crime, why aren’t you letting me go? I’m a senior in high school, you know. My studies are intense, and I really can’t afford to waste time here.”

The officer was left speechless. After all, his rank was too low to have access to the bigger picture. He didn’t understand why a case involving a gang-related brawl would have anything to do with a high school student.

The other officer, who was more composed, tugged at his colleague’s sleeve. Then, with a friendly smile, he beckoned Chen Hongxu over. “We’ve got the basic information. Come sign your name and you can go home.”

Chen Hongxu narrowed his eyes, walked slowly to the table, and grabbed the booklet the composed officer handed him. He flipped through it and said coolly, “Carbon paper?”

“For the records,” the officer replied, still smiling.

“I won’t sign.” Chen Hongxu had noticed the officer’s sleight of hand: though the first page contained only his basic information, the officer had slyly slipped a sheet of carbon paper into the folder, which was highly suspicious.

Even without much thought, Chen Hongxu knew that if he signed, his name would be imprinted on a blank sheet underneath. Later, with his name on an empty page, what was to stop them from fabricating charges against him?

“If you don’t sign, you can’t leave. Think carefully,” the composed officer warned sternly.

“Whatever,” Chen Hongxu shrugged, his face full of mockery.

…

By evening, the officers, having run out of options, “invited” Chen Hongxu into a police Santana sedan. The car had been modified with iron bars between the front and back seats, like burglar-proof windows—perfect for transporting prisoners.

The Santana, with its police lights flashing and siren wailing, pulled away from the station.

On the balcony of the director’s second-floor office, Director Gong watched the distant police car with a dark expression. Without turning his head, he asked, “So the boy’s a slippery one? Is everything ready on your end?”

“Yes, sir. Everything was arranged this afternoon. If we hadn’t hoped he’d confess on his own, we’d have sent him over already,” Officer Bi replied respectfully, standing behind Director Gong.

Director Gong shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt something was off. Like Chen Hongxu, he knew things were getting complicated, but that didn’t stop him from carrying out his orders. After all, the arrow was already on the string.

…

The police car stopped. One of the officers got out to hand over some documents, then walked to the rear door and knocked on the window, signaling for Chen Hongxu to be escorted out.

With two officers “accompanying” him, Chen Hongxu stepped from the car. He glanced at the towering concrete walls and the electric fence strung above them, shaking his head. “I haven’t committed any crime. Why bring me here?”

The officer who’d just finished the paperwork glared at him, about to speak, when another guard hurried out of the detention center’s iron gate. After a few whispered words, the first officer nodded. “Alright, you handle it.”

The new guard smiled and focused on Chen Hongxu. “No need for pretense. Since the bigwigs behind this haven’t finished their game, you’ll have to stay here for a while.”

“What if I refuse?” Chen Hongxu folded his arms, a half-smile on his face.

The officer hesitated, glancing toward the interior of the detention center, where armed guards on the watchtower swept their gaze over the yard.

Following the officer’s glance, Chen Hongxu met the eyes of one of the armed guards. He lowered his head and chuckled. “Lead the way, then.”

The officer’s disdain was evident; he said no more, simply turning to lead Chen Hongxu inside. In his mind, he’d already pegged Chen Hongxu as a coward. Though word from the station said Li Tianpeng had been beaten up, the officer hadn’t seen it himself and assumed the story was exaggerated to save face for Li Tianpeng.

Even if he had witnessed it, he would’ve attributed it to Li Tianpeng’s own incompetence. After all, police officers tended to look down on auxiliary officers, and even more so on civilians.

They passed through a long corridor before stopping outside a cell. The officer unlocked the iron door, pushed Chen Hongxu inside, and slammed it shut.

As he walked away, he called out, “Bear King, you’ve got a new one.”

Chen Hongxu leaned against the iron door and noticed that at the guard’s shout, someone among the crowd lying on the concrete beds propped himself up to look at him.

Once the guard left, the man who’d sat up quieted down, while the other inmates, who moments before seemed lethargic, suddenly sprang to life, leaping off their beds.

“New fish, huh? Which crew are you from? What’s your name? What’d you do?” A bald man with tattoos, dressed in prison garb, sized up Chen Hongxu with curiosity.

The others behind him were obviously no better, eyeing the school uniform Chen Hongxu wore. After marveling at his youth, they began to pepper him with questions of their own:

“Got any money on you?”

“Know the rules in here? Cigarettes are currency—did you bring any?”

“Who’s running things outside now—do you know?”

Chen Hongxu silently surveyed the lot. Though their fierce faces marked them as hardened criminals, they were no real threat to him.

Slowly, Chen Hongxu crouched down, a cold smile at his lips, but his voice was pitiful as he answered their questions.

The expressions of the inmates before him were a colorful mix—some pitied him, others looked eager to stir up trouble, and strangest of all, one prisoner gazed at him with nothing but affection and indulgence.

The bald man was clearly their leader. He cracked his neck, then, with some disappointment, said, “So you’re not one of us after all. What a shame. Sissy, go play with him and teach him the rules. Keep it down.”

With that, he accepted a cigarette from a lackey, lit it, and climbed back onto his bed, settling in to enjoy the show.

The effeminate man who’d given Chen Hongxu goosebumps perked up at the command. Adopting a coquettish pose, he minced over to Chen Hongxu. “Not much fun in the cell, you know. We have to make our own entertainment. Come, little brother, I’ll show you the ropes.”

Chen Hongxu shuddered, intercepting the man’s reaching hand. “Are you the giver or the receiver?”

The sissy was momentarily stunned. He’d been annoyed when Chen Hongxu blocked his hand, but now, hearing such a question, all annoyance evaporated. He bashfully poked a dimple into his cheek with a delicate finger. “Either, really. I’m very accommodating.”

“Oh? I prefer to be on top,” Chen Hongxu replied, rising to his feet with a smile.

“Then—ah!” The sissy didn’t even finish his sentence before he was hurled backward, landing headfirst in the cell’s latrine.

Chen Hongxu dusted off his pants theatrically, then grinned menacingly at the group, who’d expected to see him humiliated but were now too stunned to react.

“I gave you your chance…” he said.