Chapter 7 The Interrogation
A Qian was waiting at the door when they dragged me into Yi An.
His face looked strange when he saw me. He took me from the others and muttered under his breath that I should watch myself once I was inside.
I thought that was rich.
Did they really expect a dead man to keep a straight face?
A few minutes later, I got it.
The hall was all heavy Chinese decor—solemn, imposing.
Liang He sat in the center seat, cane in both hands. Liang Sheng and Uncle Hong flanked him on either side.
A fresh pool of blood stained the carpet dead center. A Qian kicked the back of my legs, and I dropped to my knees right in it.
The second I hit the floor, Uncle Hong slammed the table and roared.
“Zhou Wen, you backstabbing rat—how dare you show your face again?! What did the cops give you to sell me out like this?!”
His voice cracked like thunder.
He was already halfway to winning before the trial even started.
But I don’t cry until I see the coffin. He’d ripped off the mask, so I didn’t have to play nice.
I lowered my eyes, called out “Boss” and “Sixth Uncle” respectfully, then flashed a reckless grin and started dancing around him.
“Uncle Hong, I don’t follow. Everything needs proof. If I’m guilty just because you say so, that’s a pretty unfair death, don’t you think?”
I let the silence hang, then added, slow and pointed.
“Besides, Sixth Uncle is sitting right here. You’re jumping the line to question me. Doesn’t exactly follow protocol, does it?”
“You little—”
The curse died as Liang He’s cane thumped the floor.
Uncle Hong shut up fast, dropping to his knees. “Sixth Uncle…”
Liang He ignored him. His cloudy eyes fixed on me, voice rough with authority.
“Was Luo Sha your doing?”
I killed the smile, bowed my head.
“I wouldn’t dare. I had nothing to do with Luo Sha’s death.”
Uncle Hong’s eyes bulged.
“Bullshit! You’re lying through your teeth! You knew more than anyone! You think I won’t—”
I smirked inside.
He was running his mouth even on his knees, brainless as ever.
He’d earned every death he got.
I was about to twist the knife when Liang Sheng finally moved.
He’d been lounging silently, fingers tapping the armrest. Now he smiled and cut Uncle Hong off.
“Uncle Hong, interrupting isn’t polite. Zhou Wen hasn’t finished speaking.”
His gaze drifted to me, light as air.
“Zhou Wen, tell Uncle Hong—did you kill Luo Sha?”
The tone was soft, almost teasing, but the message underneath was crystal clear.
My mind blanked for a second. My pulse spiked. I kept my face dead serious.
“No. Everyone knows Luo Sha was Uncle Hong’s right-hand man. I respected him. Why would I touch him?”
Uncle Hong’s face went purple. He forgot Liang He entirely, shot to his feet, and jabbed a finger at me.
“Complete garbage! Your fingerprints are all over this, Zhou Wen, and you still deny it?! Then explain—why did you go to the mainland? How did dozens of our brothers die while you walked away clean?!”
He sounded ready to put a gun to my head himself.
But right then, in the middle of all that danger, my thoughts went fuzzy—like my head was floating.
Liang Sheng’s words had sounded like he was backing Uncle Hong.
But every one of them had handed me a way to deny it.
That could only mean one thing.
He was protecting me.
I didn’t understand why, after our three years of messing around, when I was never good at pretending to behave.
But there was no time to figure it out.
Confidence flooded back. I met Uncle Hong’s furious glare head-on.
I let a bitter smile curl my lips and looked straight at him.
“Uncle Hong, I get it now. You’re dead set on burying me today. Fine. No point covering for you anymore.”
His eyes widened.
I kept going.
“You don’t know why I went to the mainland? Fair. But you sure as hell know why Luo Sha did.”
“Every year when we ship to the mainland, jade’s only supposed to be thirty percent of the load. That’s what you always reported to Sixth Uncle.
But this time, Luo Sha’s manifest showed Hou Jiang alone hitting thirty percent.
Never mind Da Ma Kan and Mo Wan Ji.”
I paused, watching panic creep into his face.
“So tell me… where did the rest of the mines go?”
Even if he’d prepared, that hit him like a truck.
Seven parts truth, three parts bluff—straight from Luo Sha’s own mouth.
Liang Sheng played along perfectly, turning a shocked look on Uncle Hong—like he couldn’t believe the greed.
Uncle Hong lost it.
He screamed that I was slandering him, then dropped to his knees faster than anyone and wailed his loyalty to Liang He.
“Sixth Uncle, you can’t listen to him! Forty years by your side—through knives and fire—my loyalty is clear as day! He’s just dragging me down with him!”
Then he swung back to me.
“And you—if I was cooking the books, why would I let you know? You think I’m that stupid?”
I laughed, looked at him like he was the dumbest man alive.
“Uncle, you’re greedy and expect everyone else to be saints. A haul that big—who wouldn’t bite? I had channels. Luo Sha had product. We helped each other out. Who turns down money?”
I tilted my head, like I’d just remembered.
“Oh, and if Luo Sha hadn’t gotten unlucky this time, the second shipment would’ve already sailed. That’s a lot of cash down the drain, huh?”
Uncle Hong stared at me like I was a demon.
Liang He’s face was thunder. He slammed his hand down. The teacup shattered on the floor.
Dead silence.
Even the lackeys barely breathed.
Uncle Hong went quiet, trembling on the ground.
After a few seconds, Liang Sheng—the only clean one in the room—stood up smoothly, buttoning his suit.
“Looks like we’ve cleared up the traitor business. You two are the elders. I’ll leave the rest to you. But Zhou Wen is mine. He didn’t commit a capital crime, yet he still needs punishment.”
He held out his hand. A Qian placed the gun in it without a word.
No hesitation.
The bullet tore into me.
As the pain exploded, I heard Liang Sheng’s calm, undeniable voice.
“This shot is Zhou Wen’s apology to you both.”