"Walk us through your entire itinerary during the business trip again. Focus on the day at the lakeside villa hotel. You two went there in the afternoon, correct? What time exactly?"
This was the nth time the police had asked.
The same questions, over and over—asked straightforwardly, reversed, by different officers, zeroing in on specific details, shuffled abruptly…
Qin Guan knew all too well these were standard tactics for interrogating stubborn suspects. No matter who you were, after a night of this, after repeating the same story endlessly, mistakes would inevitably surface.
Because no lie could remain flawless—every lie required more lies to patch it up. Even the most skilled couldn't craft a perfect lie, let alone repeat it flawlessly. One slip-up would invite relentless follow-up.
As a criminal defense lawyer, Qin Guan was intimately familiar with these tricks. He'd often coached clients on how to handle them. He'd always excelled in such situations.
But now that it was his turn, he realized there was no way to dig himself out of this hole.
The interrogation had dragged on for hours. Qin Guan wasn't wearing a watch, and though his phone remained untouched in his pocket, he knew it didn't matter. From the moment he'd been brought into this room, every detail of his life was under police scrutiny.
He was the prime suspect in Qi Min's disappearance.
That absurd missing person case—ridiculous as it seemed to Qin Guan, with its clueless officers—had truly trapped him.
He couldn't prove Qi Min had returned alive, so he had to meticulously reconstruct everything that had happened at the lakeside villa.
Adultery? Fine, he'd confess to that. But "faking a death" or "extortion"? Never. Those would unravel too much.
Mentioning "extortion" would force him to explain why Qi Min had done it, exposing their secret partnership and the contract. How could he explain why her signature had mysteriously vanished from her copy?
Could he admit that?
In his most recent case, the suspect he'd defended had been acquitted because of a similar contract. If this came to light, his career would be ruined.
Worse, admitting to "faking a death" would require detailing how he'd "dumped the body" into the lake. If Qi Min were alive, he could talk. But she was gone forever. How could he describe "disposing of a corpse" now?
He wasn't a storyteller here—he was a suspect. Every word had to be measured.
"Are you certain you stayed alone in that lakeside villa hotel room?"
"You and Qi Min were having an affair. You traveled together, and she secretly booked the villa hotel room under her name. Yet you still claim you stayed there alone?"
"You say Qi Min left after checking you in? You didn't know where she went? As lovers, wouldn't she tell you?"
"You're lovers who skipped the official hotel to stay at a villa. She wasn't with you? Did she sleep on the street?"
Old He didn't believe a word Qin Guan said. No one did.
Lovers on a trip, sneaking off to a secluded villa—how could they not stay together? The affair photos alone proved it. Once Qi Min's mother had exposed their relationship, Qin Guan knew he was trapped in quicksand.
But he had no choice.
Before their affair came to light, he'd easily dodged suspicion—a missing colleague? What did that have to do with him? Now, the tables had turned.
Even without a body, the police would hound him endlessly.
As her lover, with a wealthy wife, children, status, and reputation, he had motive. The shared trip gave him means, opportunity, and location.
Deep down, he knew the truth: there'd been no premeditation. The trip was just a reckless tryst. Qi Min hadn't died at the villa—she'd died at the Xinhe Hotel!
But he couldn't say that. He couldn't prove any of it.
How long had this interrogation lasted? It must be late at night.
Qin Guan felt exhaustion crushing him. His eyes burned, bloodshot and sore. The metallic table reflected his haggard face. Every word he spoke seemed to ricochet under the harsh fluorescent lights, cluttering his mind.
Why did his head feel so heavy?
This was only the third shift of interrogators. There'd be a fifth, an eighth… How could he endure alone?
He needed a plan.
Qin Guan asked for ice water, gulped it down, and shut out the noise. Clarity returned.
He had two choices:
Endure the marathon interrogations. Hold firm. Without evidence or a body, they couldn't charge him. But he'd lose freedom, face endless disruptions to his life and career. His family… he couldn't think about that now.
Risk everything. Redirect the police to Qi Min's "second disappearance"—the Xinhe Hotel. A new missing person case would shift suspicion away from him. But this meant exposing Xu Ruyi.
Yes, Xu Ruyi.
He couldn't ignore her anymore. The woman he'd known since high school, dated through college, married, and pampered for five years—she wasn't here to help. She'd been sabotaging him all along.
She wanted to cement the evidence chain for Qi Min's disappearance? Fine.
She shows no mercy. I'll show no justice.
He'd turn the tables. Let the police investigate her.
"Xu Ruyi."
After endless weighing of options, Qin Guan finally spoke.
"Xu Ruyi can prove Qi Min was alive just days ago."