Anti-gang campaign: Female bureau chief

Lu Zheng is reliable, and the old criminal police officers in the Second Brigade are reliable, but who else?

Qin Chuan's people, Fang Xuewen's people, and those veteran police officers who have been operating in Yi'an for over a decade or two—whom do they truly support? Only they themselves probably know.

Thinking of this, she took out her phone and sent a message to Zhou Pei:

"Zhao Biao is out of danger and is currently hospitalized at the People's Hospital. I need the provincial department to send two trustworthy people over to provide plainclothes protection. I don't trust the local police force in Yi'an."

Zhou Pei replied quickly:

"Received, will arrive tonight."

Just as she was about to put down her phone, she received another message. The sender was Lu Zheng, and the message contained only one short sentence: "Zhao Biao is awake."

When Jiang Ruolan arrived at the People's Hospital, Zhao Biao had already fully woken up from the anesthesia.

He leaned against the hospital bed, his face ashen, his lips cracked, and the recklessness in his eyes was gone, replaced by an expression she had never seen on Zhao Biao's face before—fear.

Yes, fear.

This local thug, who had terrorized the streets of Yi'an for twenty years and broken countless bones, was now staring at the ceiling of the ward with the fear of a frightened child.

He heard the door open, turned around, and saw that the person who walked in was Jiang Ruolan. His expression changed in a complicated way—there was wariness, suspicion, but more than anything, an instinctive, almost dependent, sense of relief.

It seems that at this moment, the person in the police uniform became his only protector.

"She's really lucky to be alive." Jiang Ruolan sat down on the chair next to the hospital bed, her tone flat, neither sarcastic nor amazed.

Zhao Biao moved his chapped lips, and with great effort managed to squeeze out a sentence:

"Whose man is Ma Laoliu?"

"What do you think?" Jiang Ruolan asked in return.

Zhao Biao fell silent.

His chest heaved violently, and the pain from his three broken ribs was intense with every breath, but his expression showed no sign of pain—something inside him was shattered more completely than the physical pain.

"I've followed Brother Shan for nineteen years." His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

"Nineteen years. I've been following him since I was sixteen. Back then, the shantytown in the east of the city was being demolished, and the holdouts refused to move. He sent me to 'do the work'."

Back then, I didn't understand anything; I only knew that following Brother Shan meant I'd have food to eat. Later, after the demolition was completed, he gave me 100,000 yuan and said, "Biaozi, from now on you're mine. Whatever I eat, you eat too."

Jiang Ruolan didn't speak, but listened quietly.

"When I took the 100,000 yuan back to my mother, she was so scared that she didn't dare to accept it and asked me where I got so much money. I said that I earned it by working, but she didn't believe me. However, she didn't ask any more questions."

Later, I followed Brother Shan and the business grew bigger and bigger, from demolition to sand and gravel, and from sand and gravel to logistics. I had dozens of brothers working under me. The house my mother lives in was bought by me, the school my son attends was found by me, and the shop my wife opened was funded by Brother Shan.

Zhao Biao's voice grew increasingly hoarse, and his eyes began to redden.

"I've always felt that I owe Brother Shan a debt I could never repay, even with my life."

"And now?" Jiang Ruolan asked.

Zhao Biao closed his eyes, a single, cloudy tear squeezing from the corner of his eye. He didn't answer the question, but silence itself was the best answer.

"Old Ma, I remember now," Zhao Biao suddenly said, a hint of coldness in his voice.

"Last year, he stole a batch of cables in the north of the city. My brother caught him and brought him to me. Normally, stealing would result in having your fingers chopped off, but I saw his sister kneeling on the ground begging me, so I softened and only asked him to give 30,000 yuan to the owner before letting him go."

His sister did date me for a few months afterward, but it was consensual; I, Zhao Biao, never force anyone. I even gave her 100,000 yuan as a breakup fee. As for grudges, it wouldn't warrant stabbing me four times.

"So you know that Ma Laoliu didn't come here on his own."

"Of course not." Zhao Biao opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, his gaze gradually turning cold.

"A man like Ma Laoliu wouldn't dare lay a hand on me even if he had a hundred lives. Unless someone gave him even more courage—and even more money."

"To get him into my cell, to get him to prepare a sharpened toothbrush beforehand, to get him to risk his life to stab me—in the entire Yi An, only one person could do that."

He didn't say the name, but everyone in the ward knew who he was talking about.

"What are you planning to do?" Jiang Ruolan asked, her tone as if she were asking a trivial question.

Zhao Biao turned to look at her, his eyes revealing something he had never seen before—a ruthlessness that only arises when one is driven to the brink of despair.

"Director Jiang, I want to live. I want to see my son get into university, and I want to take care of my mother in her old age and see her off when she dies. Brother Shan doesn't want me anymore, and I have nothing to say about that. But this life is my own, and I don't want to die in a detention center, dying without knowing why."

Jiang Ruolan looked at him for a long time before finally saying:

"Then tell me everything you know. You help me, and I'll save your life."

Zhao Biao's Adam's apple bobbed. He glanced at the two SWAT officers in the corner of the ward, then at Jiang Ruolan, and said in a low voice:

"I said. But I have one condition—transfer me to the provincial capital's detention center. Every day I stay in Yi'an, every day I face more danger."

Brother Shan's influence here is too far-reaching; it can reach into any cell. You can defend against it once, but not ten times.

"Deal." Jiang Ruolan stood up and said to Lu Zheng beside her.

"Arrange for the detention in another location immediately and complete it today. Notify the provincial department to prepare for the takeover."

Lu Zheng responded and left. Jiang Ruolan sat down again, took a voice recorder and a notebook from her briefcase, and placed them on the bedside table. Looking into Zhao Biao's eyes, she said, word by word:

"From this moment forward, everything you say will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to remain silent, but everything you say will be recorded. Are you ready?"

Zhao Biao took a deep breath, a sharp pain shooting through his broken ribs, but he gritted his teeth and endured it. He nodded:

"Ready."

Jiang Ruolan pressed the record button.

For two whole hours, only Zhao Biao's voice could be heard in the ward.

In a calm, almost cold tone, he recounted every case he had been involved in over the past nineteen years, every crime scene he had witnessed, and every secret he had known, one by one.

Like a garbage can that has been stuffed to the brim, it was finally kicked over, and all the filth and darkness poured out.

He mentioned Chen Yonggui from Shiqiao County. The owner of that sand and gravel plant refused to transfer his mine to Fengmao Group. First, he received threatening letters, then his convoy transporting sand and gravel was intercepted on the road, and the driver was beaten and hospitalized.

..............