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

The moment she saw the location of the phone, doubts flooded Xia Anmian's mind like a tidal wave, overwhelming all her rationality.

She stared at the slowly moving red dot on her phone screen, her pupils dilating slightly.

That's one of the best private hospitals in Kyoto.

The red dot lingered in the building for a long time, so long that she thought her phone had crashed, so long that her heartbeat changed from rapid to heavy, pounding against her chest, both suffocating and painful.

She doesn't understand.

Is Jiang Yi in the hospital?

Or did someone take his phone to the hospital?

If it's Jiang Yi, why would he be at the hospital?

She dared not think any further.

The things hidden in the interrogation room, in the confession, and behind Zhao Jianguo's hesitant words were like tiny needles, piercing her cerebral cortex, her temples, and every nerve ending.

What exactly happened?

Moreover, he doesn't answer my calls.

The first call went unanswered, the second call went unanswered, and the third call resulted in the phone being switched off.

What exactly happened?

Xia Anmian stood under the blazing sun, the sunlight hitting her directly on her shoulders where she wasn't holding an umbrella, on the back of her hand that was gripping her phone, and on her face, which was pale and almost transparent from staying up late and anxiety.

A fine layer of sweat beaded on her forehead, trickling down her brow bone, past the corner of her eye, across her cheekbone, and finally disappearing at the edge of her mask. She didn't wipe it away, and didn't even feel it.

At that moment, her brain was like an overloaded processor, with all its cores running at high speed, the temperature soaring, the fan hissing, and it could crash at any moment.

But she can't stop, she can't crash, she can't afford to make any mistakes at this time.

Xia Anmian took a deep breath, and the hot air, carrying the smell of asphalt, filled her lungs, making her tremble slightly.

Her fingers flew across the phone screen, scrolling through her contacts and dialing a number.

beep-

Each waiting tone felt like a heavy hammer blow to her already fragile nerves.

The call was connected.

Uncle Zhao.

Her voice wasn't loud, but each word seemed to be forced out of her throat, carrying an extreme, suppressed tremor, "Excuse me, where is Jiang Yi now?"

Meanwhile, in the office of the Kyoto Public Security Bureau Chief, the air conditioning was on full blast, and the cold air blowing out of the vents made the unfiled case file on the desk rustle loudly.

As Zhao Jianguo sat in his large leather swivel chair, holding his phone, the moment he heard Xia Anmian's voice coming through the receiver, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his back, chilling him from his spine all the way to his fingertips.

"Sleep peacefully."

His voice was hoarse and tired than she had expected, as if he hadn't slept for days.

In fact, he didn't. "I checked for you as soon as I got back. Jiang Yi was released on medical parole."

Released on medical parole.

Released on medical parole.

Considering Jiang Yi's appearance at the hospital, everything makes sense.

But Jiang Yi is different from her.

She knew Jiang Yi's ID number by heart, knew his family background better than anyone else, and his social network was as simple as a blank sheet of paper.

He was an ordinary person, an ordinary person with no special identity, no special background, and no special relationship.

In cases like that, involving nearly three million, how could one possibly be granted medical parole so easily?

Either someone is helping him, or someone she doesn't know, someone with enough power, is pulling the strings behind the scenes.

Or it is...

His injuries.

It wasn't a minor injury, but a serious one that required hospitalization and necessitated medical parole.

Xia Anmian clenched her teeth, so hard that the veins on her temples bulged slightly, her gums ached and swelled, and her tongue tasted a metallic, sweet flavor.

Her eyes were red, so red they looked like they were about to bleed, but no tears fell.

He was ruthless; he didn't tell Jiang Yi the truth.

If I had told Jiang Yi my identity from the moment we met, would he have been able to avoid harm when facing illegal activities?

"Director Zhao."

Her voice suddenly changed; it was no longer "Uncle Zhao" but "Director Zhao".

"How did you enforce the law? Not only did you mistakenly sign a confession, but you also tortured an ordinary person to the point of being released on medical parole."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

In those two seconds of silence, Xia Anmian heard the sound of turning pages, the creaking of a chair turning, and a very faint sigh, as if something was blocking it.

Zhao Jianguo sat in his office, and on the sofa opposite him sat a middle-aged man with gray hair, dark circles under his eyes, and who looked as wilted as an eggplant that had been hit by frost—Zhao Jianmin, the director of the Zhongshan branch.

Zhao Jianmin lowered his head, staring at the tips of his leather shoes, barely daring to breathe, like a primary school student who had done something wrong and was called to the principal's office.

Zhao Jianguo glared at Zhao Jianmin, his eyes filled with anger, disappointment, and even a hint of looking at a weirdo.

He's led teams for so many years, what kind of subordinates hasn't he seen?

Some are shrewd, some are honest, some are cunning, and some are clumsy.

But he had never seen anything like it before.

He was so stupid as to push himself into the fire and drag the entire department down with him.

Although Zhao Jianmin took all the blame, insisting that it was his own decision, his impulsive act, and his personal behavior that had nothing to do with the organization.

But Zhao Jianguo is no three-year-old. He has been working in the public security system for more than 30 years. What kind of cases hasn't he seen?

What kind of shady dealings haven't been exposed yet?

He has investigated the entire matter.

From Zhao Jianmin's unauthorized interrogation of Jiang Yi, to the shutdown of the interrogation room's surveillance, to the signing process of that confession, and then to the approval process for medical parole.

Every step was taken right on the edge of the red line, every step was firm and solid, without a single wrong step.

But no matter how carefully you step on the line, it can't overcome the fact that the red line should never have been crossed in the first place.

The moment Zhao Jianguo learned the truth, he wished he could kill the bastard in front of him with his own hands.

He wanted nothing more than to lift Zhao Jianmin off the chair, throw him to the ground, straddle him, and smash his face, swollen from staying up late and anxiety, to pieces.

He lost his sight for a moment, and what a huge hole he caused for the entire Kyoto Public Security Bureau.

You want to climb the ladder, fine, you want to climb the social ladder, fine, but you have to take responsibility for it yourself!

In the end, he caused such a huge mess, not only offending Xia Anmian, but also putting the entire Kyoto Public Security Bureau in a very difficult position.

More importantly, this matter needs to be reported.

Zhao Jianguo dared not think any further.

Forced confessions. These four words are an inviolable red line in any era, any country, and under any system.

His subordinates, his soldiers, personally touched this high-voltage line.

His time as department head is over.

How could Kyoto, a place right under the emperor's nose and the most virtuous region, produce such an idiot?

Zhao Jianguo took a deep breath, suppressing the rage that threatened to burn him to ashes, and buried it deep in his chest.

He glanced at Zhao Jianmin again, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

Aren't you supposed to be tight-lipped?

Didn't you take all the responsibility?

You'd better keep taking the blame until the day this matter is completely over.

otherwise--