Chapter Twenty-Six: Screening the Shops

As Ning Zhiheng thought through these matters, he finally felt a bit more grounded. He turned to Chun San and asked, “From where you saw the suspect in the photograph, at the entrance of that so-called Zhangma Lane, how many pastry shops are there nearby?”

“There are about two close by, and a few more if you go farther,” Chun San replied.

As the saying goes, people in the south have a sweet tooth, and there are quite a few pastry shops along the street. Liu Datong, quick on the uptake, stepped forward and said, “Tomorrow I’ll go check out the pastry shops!”

But Ning Zhiheng shook his head after a moment’s thought. “You can’t go—I'll lead the team myself.”

The real identity of this Wang Yunfeng was unlikely to be that of an ordinary person. Ordinary people wouldn’t have access to classified intelligence.

These shops were nothing like the two rickshaw pullers. A few dozen yuan might be a fortune for a rickshaw driver—selling out a stranger for the money would weigh lightly on their conscience. But for shopkeepers, if they truly knew the man, they might not risk offending a well-connected customer for a small sum.

Moreover, Liu Datong wasn’t a patrolman on Yanshan Street, and his men—like Liu Yong—were even less trustworthy in the eyes of others. If Liu Datong’s group investigated, their lack of authority would mean twice the effort for half the result, unlikely to yield anything useful. The shopkeepers wouldn’t know if they were being questioned by good men or bad, and would never betray their customers so easily.

To deal with such people, the action squad needed to step forward, brandishing the authority of the Military Intelligence Division. Anyone obstructing the investigation could be arrested on the spot—they had that privilege. With a gun to their heads, who would dare lie?

Ning Zhiheng turned to Lao Wei and Chun San, took out several large bills, and smiled, “What you’ve told us is very important. I’m a man of my word—take this money back with you. Chun San, don’t forget to buy some extra pastries for your daughter Er Ya. Let the child have a treat.”

Lao Wei and Chun San could hardly believe their eyes at the sight of those big bills. For simply providing some information, this young official rewarded them far beyond their expectations. Such a sum could change the lives of families who hovered beneath the poverty line.

Seeing their bewildered gratitude, Ning Zhiheng said nothing more, simply pressing the money into their hands.

Liu Datong and Liu Yong, witnessing the generous reward, felt a pang of regret. “A handful of small change would’ve sent these fellows on their way—Chief Ning spends money as if it’s nothing.” But then, they were glad to have a boss who wasn’t stingy; perhaps good days lay ahead for them.

Ning Zhiheng turned to Liu Datong and Liu Yong, saying, “I won’t stand on ceremony with my own men. I know how hard you’ve worked. When this case is done, I won’t let you down!”

He clapped Liu Datong on the shoulder. “Datou, do your best. Money and a bright future are both within reach!”

A warm tide surged through Liu Datong’s chest. He could only nod again and again, speechless with gratitude.

The night passed uneventfully. At dawn, Ning Zhiheng and Wang Shucheng led their team to the precinct overseeing Yanshan Street.

The chief, having been notified, personally welcomed them at the gate, not daring to be negligent. After a brief exchange of courtesies, Ning Zhiheng split the team: Wang Shucheng would take some men to check the residential records for Yanshan Street.

Ning himself took along two local police sergeants and twelve team members, hurrying to the entrance of Zhangma Lane as Chun San had described.

They began to investigate all the pastry shops in the area, starting with the closest. Led by the two sergeants, they entered the first shop and immediately took control, gathering everyone in the salesroom.

The sudden intrusion left the shop’s staff bewildered. The manager, recognizing one of the sergeants, called out, “Sergeant Cui, what’s going on here? If there’s something to discuss, let’s talk it out. We’re just honest folks.”

Sergeant Cui ignored him and turned to Ning Zhiheng, who nodded. Only then did Cui step forward and address the crowd: “Let me be clear. These are senior military officers specializing in capturing felons and most-wanted criminals. An important suspect has been to your shop. In a moment, you’ll each look at a photograph. I’ll say this up front—if anyone withholds information, and we later find out the suspect did buy pastries here, every person present will be charged with harboring a criminal and thrown in jail. Remember, every single one of you! So I advise you all not to take chances.”

The words caused an uproar. Disaster had fallen from the sky, and now they were somehow implicated with a dangerous criminal. Fear swept through the room.

The noisy chatter made Ning Zhiheng frown. Noticing his displeasure, one of his team members drew his pistol and barked, “Silence! From now on, no whispering. Form a line and look at the photo, one by one. Anyone caught colluding will be arrested on the spot!”

Ning Zhiheng gave this perceptive subordinate an approving look. “Zhao Jiang, you organize the identification. Start with the manager.”

Ning himself stood to the side, observing each person’s reaction as they viewed the sketch, watching their eyes and body language.

In his previous life, as a secretary in officialdom, reading people’s expressions had been his first lesson. He had studied books on verbal and physical cues in depth—knowledge far ahead of its time. He prided himself on being second to none in observation. If anyone showed uncertainty or evasiveness when confronted with the photo or questioned by the team, they would be singled out for further interrogation.

But to his disappointment, after everyone was checked, not a single person recognized the man in the photo. Their answers and demeanor were all within the bounds of normalcy.

Sergeant Cui saw Ning Zhiheng shake his head and understood there was no result. He stepped forward and said, “That’s all for today’s questioning. Let me repeat—this is serious business. Don’t ruin your future for the sake of someone else; it’s not worth it! When you go home, keep your mouths shut, and if anything comes to mind, report directly to me at the station.”

Ning Zhiheng was not discouraged. The investigation had only just begun; he hadn’t expected instant results. Waving for his men to move out, he led them to the next pastry shop.

They soon checked four shops without gaining any leads. Near noon, they arrived at the last one.

This shop was spacious and well-appointed. The sign read “Shunxin Pastries.”

Sergeant Cui introduced it: “This is the best pastry shop on Yanshan Street. Their pastries are famous far and wide—many people come from afar to buy them. There’s a lot of foot traffic; the suspect may well have bought pastries here.”

Ning Zhiheng saw that the shop was busy with customers and agreed that Sergeant Cui’s reasoning made sense.

As they entered Shunxin Pastries, the team’s uniforms and stern demeanor instantly froze the atmosphere.

The more perceptive customers quickly left, and several team members blocked the entrance to prevent others from coming in.

Following the same procedure, they gathered everyone together. Sergeant Cui explained the situation and the consequences.

Under the supervision of the action squad, they began the identification process. Ning Zhiheng observed closely.

His efforts were not in vain—after a morning of watching, he finally saw a result.

A shop assistant in his early twenties, on seeing the photo, had a sudden flash in his eyes, his pupils contracting. This man clearly recognized Wang Yunfeng. Instantly, Ning Zhiheng’s attention was piqued.

But when Zhao Jiang questioned him, the assistant shook his head, denying any recognition, while his right hand naturally rested on his left elbow.

Crossed arms are a defensive, rejecting posture, reflecting inner conflict, competing emotions, or nervousness. When people lie and worry about being exposed, they become anxious and try to hide it by clasping their hands behind their back, gripping one hand with the other, or, as in this case, holding the upper arm near the elbow—the closer to the elbow, the greater the tension.

Ning Zhiheng stepped forward, fixing the young assistant with a penetrating gaze. Deliberately enunciating each word, he said, “Sergeant Cui has already explained the consequences. Covering up or withholding information will land you in jail, or even get you shot for espionage. You’d better think carefully about every word you say. I’ll give you one more chance—have you ever seen this man?”

Ning Zhiheng’s words fell like a heavy hammer. The assistant’s face turned ashen, and sweat the size of beans rolled down his forehead.

Everyone’s attention focused on them. Throughout the morning’s search, Ning Zhiheng had only observed from the sidelines—this was his first time questioning anyone directly, making the assistant’s reaction all the more telling: he was lying, he had recognized the man in the picture but denied it.

No one had expected that, under such pressure, someone would still try to bluff his way through. If not for the captain’s sharp eyes, this clue might have slipped away.

At that moment, the shop manager hurried over and, with a loud slap, struck the assistant across the face.

Gnashing his teeth, he shouted, “Huang Hui, you idiot! How dare you lie? How dare you cover for a suspect? Do you realize you could get us all thrown in jail?”

Huang Hui’s face was flaming red, and he was so terrified he could hardly speak, trembling all over.

The other assistants now found their voices and began to scold him.

“Huang Hui, are you crazy? If you want to die, don’t drag us down with you! My whole family depends on me!”

“Xiao Hui, my wife and I have always treated you like a brother! How could you? You’ll be the death of us!”

“That bastard’s never been any good. Officer, this has nothing to do with us—we’re honest people, we’ve told the truth, not a single lie!”

Amid the chorus of grievances and angry reproaches, Ning Zhiheng quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure now—his hand had finally grasped the tail of the mole.