Guangtou Qiang delivered the body to the boss, telling him that a hostess at the nightclub had fallen, hit her head, and died. Before disposing of the body, he brought it as a tribute to the boss. The boss praised him for being efficient, then closed the door and started enjoying himself.
Suddenly, halfway through, the boss shouted angrily, ordering Guangtou Qiang to get in.
It turned out Xiao Lanlan hadn't died—she was only in a temporary coma. During the act, she suddenly coughed up blood. For someone with a necrophiliac fetish, discovering halfway that the "corpse" was still alive was a nightmare.
The boss was furious and annoyed. This girl could have been saved if not for the rough treatment. He ordered Guangtou Qiang to deal with her quickly—no trouble—and promised to handle him afterward.
Panicked, Guangtou Qiang carried her outside, left her by the roadside, called 120 emergency, and then left. Xiao Lanlan never showed up at work again; she was probably dead.
Huang Xiaotao slammed her hand down in anger, while Guangtou Qiang shrank back in fear. She scolded, "You're worse than a beast!"
Lowering his head, Guangtou Qiang confessed, "This is my sin. Whether it's prison or execution, I accept my fate."
I said coldly, "What you said is true, but you're not the main culprit."
Guangtou Qiang's eyes widened. "Song Ge, are you joking? Who would take this shit on themselves willingly?"
...
I replied, "Depends on whose shit it really is—like your current boss."
Guangtou Qiang trembled. I was sure now—the real culprit wasn't him, which explained the contradictions. If it were really him, burying the body in the suburbs would've been cleaner. Since he wasn't directly involved, the details he added sounded plausible but were full of holes.
The triad hates betrayal most of all, especially informants. I suspected this was done by a higher-up in the Black Panther gang. Guangtou Qiang took the blame to protect his boss.
No matter how we pressed, Guangtou Qiang insisted he killed Xiao Lanlan. Huang Xiaotao finally lost patience and said, "Enough, you can go."
Xiao Lanlan's death was a separate case. Due to the time elapsed and lack of evidence, it would likely remain unsolved.
But Chu Yan's case was now crystal clear. She knew Xiao Lanlan worked part-time at Tianxiang Pavilion. After Xiao Lanlan died, Chu Yan was devastated. From various sources and her own deductions, she identified the Black Panther gang leader as the murderer.
Since Xiao Lanlan died inside the triad's territory, no one dared investigate—not even the police. Yet this fragile girl risked everything to avenge her best friend, faking her death right under the gang leader's nose and bravely attempting to assassinate him!
If it weren't for the snake-blood-stained knife found beside her, she might never have survived.
The truth of the case left us deeply moved. Ancient heroes valued their promises over life itself, willing to risk everything for their friends. Who would have thought that spirit of chivalry had been reborn in such a frail girl...
The next day, the police took an arrest warrant to Chu Yan's home. She accepted reality calmly. Given her condition, she was released on bail and ordered to wait for the trial at home.
Though we kept the case strictly confidential, Big Baldy had witnessed Chu Yan's "resurrection" firsthand. The Black Panther gang would likely learn soon enough. Our biggest concern was their retaliation against this father and daughter.
However, the Blood Wolf gang wasn't defenseless. With several brothers lost unjustly, the two gangs clashed fiercely for a while before the police stepped in. Eventually, peace returned as the Black Panther gang chose a new leader.
During that period, many male officers would intentionally patrol around Chu Yan's house to protect her.
For a while after, office gossip died down. The male cops seemed energized, like they were on some kind of high, eager and lively on patrol. They said sometimes they'd see Chu Yan quietly sitting by her window, painting, her face illuminated by the light—like an angel from a fairy tale.
Even Wang Dali acted strange. After the case, he sighed often. When friends shared photos of beauties, he showed no interest, dismissing them as shallow and vulgar.
One day before the New Year, Wang Dali got up early, full of excitement. He insisted on attending Chu Yan's trial as an observer. I had no choice but to tag along.
The trial lasted six hours. The judge finally convicted Chu Yan of intentional injury, sentencing her to ten years imprisonment—but then paused and added, "The sentence is suspended for two years."
Everyone was stunned. Chu Yan was only eighteen and unlikely to live that long. This effectively meant she wouldn't serve time.
Tears welled up as the crowd rose, applauding. I noticed the audience was mostly male officers, with the odd presence of a reluctant Guangtou Qiang.
Clapping in court is serious disruption; the judge nearly broke his gavel trying to restore order—but nobody cared.
I saw Chu Yan and her father weeping with joy as the thunderous applause shook the courtroom, never fading...
This was the revenge of an angel. I had witnessed the truest, most beautiful angel in this world.