My online dating circle has millions of followers, why would she put a collar on me?

The corridor of the Chaoyang branch was quieter than Jiang Yi had imagined.

The cold white light poured down from the ceiling, illuminating the entire corridor as bright as day, with no shadows and no blind spots.

Every inch of air carried the smell of disinfectant mixed with old paper, as if reminding everyone who walked in that this was no ordinary place, but a public security agency.

When Jiang Yi was brought in, there was almost no one in the corridor.

There were no handcuffs on his wrists.

The lead policeman who brought him in, whose name tag read "Zhao Hanting," had already put away the handcuffs at the door.

The person brought back is a "suspect," not a "criminal," so handcuffs are not necessary.

"sit."

Zhao Hanting pushed open a door and gestured towards a plastic chair inside.

Jiang Yi went inside and sat down in a chair.

This is a standard interrogation room, not large, about ten square meters.

A metal table was fixed in the center, and there was nothing on the tabletop, not even a speck of dust.

There are three chairs, one on Jiang Yi's side and the other two on the opposite side.

There was a camera in the corner, its red indicator light flashing like a tireless eye, recording everything that happened in the room.

A mirror hangs on the wall.

Jiang Yi knew that it was no ordinary mirror.

I've seen it countless times in TV dramas.

It was a one-way mirror; behind the mirror was an observation room where people were watching him, but he couldn't see them.

Zhao Hanting placed his notebook and pen on the table, sat down opposite him, pulled out a chair, and sat down as casually as if he were finding a place to sit in his own living room.

He was about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with regular features and a healthy wheat-colored complexion from frequent exposure to wind and sun.

His police uniform was not worn neatly; one button was undone at the collar, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of his muscular forearm. If it weren't for the uniform, he would look more like a young trainer who had just come from the gym.

"Jiang Yi?" He opened his notebook, picked up a pen, and spoke in a flat tone, as if he were reading a shopping list.

"Yes." Jiang Yi's voice was a little hoarse.

"Tsinghua or Peking University, Computer Science Department, third-year student?"

"Yes."

Zhao Hanting paused on the paper for a moment, then looked up at him.

His gaze held no scrutiny, no disdain, and not even the sharpness that a police officer should have when facing a suspect.

There was only a very faint, almost imperceptible sense of regret.

"From Tsinghua or Peking University?"

He repeated it, his tone carrying a hint of something indescribable.

"With your qualifications, you could have gone to any other job after graduation, why did you have to do this?"

Jiang Yi opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he said nothing.

Zhao Hanting did not press further.

He lowered his head and continued writing something in his notebook; the sound of the pen gliding across the paper was exceptionally clear in the quiet interrogation room.

He writes very quickly, but very neatly; it's clear he's practiced.

He scribbled a few lines and then closed the notebook.

"Alright, that's enough for today." His tone was casual. "You stay here for now, someone will come and talk to you later. If you need anything, you can call the police officer on duty, just don't cause trouble."

He stood up, picked up his notebook, took two steps toward the door, then suddenly stopped, turned around and glanced at Jiang Yi.

"By the way, are you a twin?"

Jiang Yi paused for a moment, then said, "Yes."

"Is your younger sister's name Jiang Miaomiao?"

"……yes."

Zhao Hanting nodded, said nothing more, opened the door and went out.

The moment the door closed, the interrogation room fell silent once more.

The air conditioner vents emitted a faint buzzing sound, and the red indicator light of the corner camera flashed intermittently, like a tireless eye.

Jiang Yi sat alone on a plastic chair, his hands on his knees, head down, looking at his fingers.

……

In the corridor, Zhao Hanting walked back to the duty room with his notebook.

The duty room is at the end of the corridor. It's small, about ten square meters, with a desk, a few chairs, a water dispenser, and various notices and duty rosters on the walls.

The computer screen on the table was still lit, displaying the interface of a game he hadn't finished playing.

He sat down in the chair, tossed the notebook onto the table, picked up the mouse, and prepared to continue playing the game.

The interface of "Three Kingdoms Kill" was still in the previous room, and his teammates were probably getting impatient.

He was about to press the "Ready" button when he heard footsteps outside the door.

It wasn't just one person's footsteps; it was the footsteps of several people.

His steps were steady, neither hurried nor slow, making a dull, rhythmic sound on the tiled floor.

The sound of those footsteps is not something an ordinary person can make; it's the kind of footsteps that only someone who has been in the system for a long time, who is used to being followed and used to being at the forefront, would make.

Zhao Hanting's hand remained on the mouse, but he didn't click.

The door was pushed open.

The person who walked in almost made him drop the mouse from his hand.

Zhao Zhiguo.

The head of the Kyoto City Public Security Bureau. His biological father.

A man in his fifties, wearing a dark gray jacket over a white shirt, without a tie.

His hair was gray, but neatly combed. He had few wrinkles on his face, and his eyes exuded an aura of authority without anger.

He wasn't particularly tall, but standing there, he resembled a deeply rooted tree, unmoved by wind or rain.

Two people followed behind him, one a young man in a black suit carrying a briefcase.

The other one is the director of the Chaoyang branch, surnamed Liu.

Zhao Hanting suddenly stood up from his chair, which slid backward and hit the wall with a thud.

"Dad—Director Zhao!"

He almost mispronounced it, his tongue getting tied in a knot before he swallowed back the word "Dad" and replaced it with the more formal form of address.

Zhao Zhiguo's gaze swept across the duty room, lingering for a moment on his face.

That moment was very brief, probably less than half a second.

Then Zhao Zhiguo's gaze shifted to Director Liu behind him.

"Take me to see that case."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was full of energy, each word sounding as if it were pushed directly from his chest, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

"Okay, okay, Director Zhao, this way please." Director Liu quickly stepped aside, made a "please" gesture, and bent down at a deeper angle than before.

Zhao Zhiguo strode forward, following Director Liu deeper into the corridor.

The two attendants followed closely behind, their footsteps so synchronized they sounded as if they had rehearsed.

Zhao Hanting stood at the door of the duty room, watching his father's figure disappear around the corner of the corridor. His mouth was slightly open, and the expression on his face changed from surprise to confusion, and then from confusion to a faint, indescribable sense of loss.

He looked down at his somewhat disheveled police uniform, then at the half-finished Three Kingdoms Kill game on the table, and his lips twitched.

"So you didn't come to see me?"

He muttered something under his breath, his tone carrying a hint of grievance that he himself was unaware of.

He stood at the door for two seconds, then closed the door and sat back down in his chair.

The game interface is still open, but his teammates have automatically logged out because he's been AFK for too long.

He stared at the screen for a few seconds, but instead of clicking "rematch," he moved the mouse to the browser and opened the branch office's internal case system.

Enter your account and password to log in. The main page displays rows of case numbers and suspect names, arranged by entry time. The top few entries are newly entered, one of which lists the suspect's name as: Jiang Yi.

He clicked on the record.

The page loaded in about two seconds, and then the screen was filled with information.

He first glanced at the basic information.

He had already memorized the name, age, place of origin, and ID number; there was nothing special about them.

Then he flipped down.

He had only filled in an approximate amount in the "Amount Involved" column before, but the system had already synchronized the detailed data.

Su Xiaoyue: 1,382,000 yuan. Gu Qinghan: 1,200,000 yuan. Others: Approximately 300,000 yuan. Total: Approximately 2,882,000 yuan.

Zhao Hanting stared at the "2,882,000" for two seconds, his brow furrowing slightly. Nearly three million—a college student had swindled three million. That was indeed a substantial amount; no wonder it had alarmed the higher-ups.

He continued scrolling down.

The case description section was very brief, consisting of only a few lines:

"Starting in [Month, Year], suspect Jiang Yi used social media to maintain contact with multiple women under a false identity, accumulating approximately 288 million yuan in illicit gains. Relevant evidence has been secured, and the case is under further investigation."

Zhao Hanting leaned back in his chair and stared at the words for a few seconds.

He maintained contact with multiple women using a false identity.

He recalled the face he had seen in the interrogation room earlier—young, clean-cut, and even with a touch of the naiveté typical of students.

This kind of person doesn't seem like the type to do such a thing at all.

But then again, a liar can't write their true colors on their face.

He was about to close the page when his finger paused on the mouse.

At the very bottom of the page, there is a line of smaller text containing information about people associated with the case. The font size is one size smaller than the main text, and the color is also lighter, so it is easy to miss if you don't look closely.

"Related person: Xia Anmian, the suspect's girlfriend."

Zhao Hanting's pupils dilated in that instant.

He stared at those three words for a full three seconds, then suddenly sat up straight, the chair making a jarring creak.

summer.

install.

sleep.

No wonder even a minor case could get his own father involved!

(Updates will resume normally tomorrow, two chapters a day)