Chapter 83: You Are Yang Luo, Aren't You?

Hearing Huang Yuanguang’s question, Lin Heng’s mind, nearly frozen from exhaustion, took several seconds to process it.

“…Ah? I just finished this report today. Other than you, Chief, no one else has seen it yet.”

“I see…” Huang Yuanguang nodded, pondering for a moment.

“The information you’ve gathered is indeed intriguing, but it seems you haven’t reached a definite conclusion yet?”

“…Based on the current evidence, I can only confirm that there are indeed suspicious points about Yang Luo, but as for the reasons behind them, or what connection he has to the August 12th case, I haven’t been able to dig deeper.”

Though he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open, Lin Heng still did his best to answer.

His exhaustion did not escape Huang Yuanguang’s notice; the latter’s eyes flickered imperceptibly.

After a long pause, Huang Yuanguang continued, “Hmm… Lin, I’ve gone through your report, and there are still some issues with the details. But judging by your state, you probably haven’t slept for a day or two while gathering all this information.

“How about this—I’ll give you a day off. Go home and get some rest. I’ll verify the authenticity of the materials you’ve mentioned and coordinate with other departments. That way, when we submit this upward, it’ll be more credible.”

As he spoke, he gently patted Lin Heng on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry. You’re the main author of this report; the credit for this work will not change.”

Lin Heng opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but a wave of drowsiness washed over him, making the world in front of his eyes blur and drift.

“—Then should I just sleep in the office?”

“No need. Go straight home and sleep. If you keep working in this state, how will you manage future casework? Balance between work and rest is key.”

Huang Yuanguang met his gaze, his eyes warm and sincerely earnest.

“The future casework” struck a chord in Lin Heng. He nodded, no longer arguing, and staggered to his feet.

“Then I’ll trouble you, Chief?”

“It’s nothing. Go home with peace of mind—here, I’ll call a car for you. I’ll have the driver see you upstairs so you can go straight to bed when you get home.”

As Lin Heng’s figure left the office, Huang Yuanguang’s expression gradually darkened.

He sat directly in front of Lin Heng’s computer, eyes fixed on the screen, the mouse clicking rapidly as images flashed by, revealing the dense records of interviews and data Lin Heng had collected.

“…How could this be… This kid… actually found a path that seems to lead to the truth. But if that’s the case… is the person called ‘fire punch’ actually Yang Luo?”

Huang Yuanguang pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took one, and lit it with a heavy, conflicted heart.

“But if we really catch the culprit because of this report, the fact that I’ve been involved in dealings will definitely come to light… Even though I used a virtual account, those colleagues in the tech department know the internet all too well—they’ll easily find traces. Not to mention, I’ve already sold a few BTC from a virtual wallet lately; if they check the bank transactions…”

His gaze on the computer grew more and more unsettled.

He pulled out another cigarette and took a fierce drag.

“…So… should I…?”

His fingers hovered over the “delete” key, as if he were struggling to make a decision.

But he immediately shook his head, dismissing the thought.

“No… Even if I delete this, the data and recordings are all archived. Even if I risk everything to erase those records, the intranet will still leave traces, and Lin Heng can just write another report—I can’t stop it… Doing so would only draw suspicion to myself.”

He smoked, the autumn chill doing nothing to stop the sweat that now dripped steadily from his brow, his shirt soaked through in no time.

Countless thoughts churned in his mind, even the notion of turning himself in and coming clean about everything. But the thought of his family instantly extinguished that idea:

“…No.

“If I’m arrested, what will happen to Yiyi? A police officer leaking secrets would face even harsher punishment—not only would all my assets be confiscated, but regaining my freedom and seeing Yiyi again might take ten or twenty years, or even longer.”

Huang Yuanguang let out a long sigh.

His phone suddenly rang.

He answered to hear the ride-hailing driver, who told him Lin Heng had been helped upstairs and, with a respectful chuckle, added, “He collapsed right at the door, and I had to carry him to bed… You police really have it rough.”

Huang Yuanguang muttered a distracted thanks and hung up.

He began to think.

“…Judging by Lin Heng’s state, he’ll probably sleep all day, at least until tonight, and won’t be back to work until tomorrow.

“—So, I have just over half a day.”

…But what can be done with so little time?

Feeling feverish, Huang Yuanguang took off his jacket.

He held his teacup, subtly angling its base toward the computer screen, snapping photos page by page of the contents.

When lunchtime came, during the usual break, he packed up the tea set, grabbed his bag, left the provincial office building, and took a cab straight home.

As soon as he entered, the woman cleaning the floor at the doorway looked up in surprise.

“Oh? Why are you home at noon today?”

“I have something to take care of,” he replied offhandedly, but his gloomy face betrayed his true state of mind. The woman seemed to sense something and quickly stepped aside, calling after his hasty figure:

“You haven’t eaten lunch, have you? Should I bring something to the study?”

“No need.”

He replied curtly, his figure already vanished into the study, followed by the heavy sound of the door closing and locking.

She stood there in a daze, staring at the locked study door, her eyes complicated, lost in thought.

…

Back in the study, surrounded by familiar furnishings, Huang Yuanguang had no time for rest. He turned on his computer, quickly switching channels, opened the messaging software, and sent a message to the contact named “fire punch.” Then he sat anxiously in front of the screen, waiting for the other party to come online.

This was perhaps the most agonizing stretch of time in Huang Yuanguang’s life.

As he waited, the air seemed thick with tension, like a swamp closing around him, dragging him slowly down with no hope of escape.

—In fact, only a few minutes had passed, though it felt like hours. When the other party’s status finally lit up, Huang Yuanguang couldn’t help but let out a deep, heavy breath, as if trying to force all the air from his lungs.

“What is it?” came the succinct inquiry.

Huang Yuanguang skipped the pleasantries and replied directly:

“Latest intel on the August 12th case… A police officer conducted his own investigation and came up with some unexpected findings.”

After sending the message, he stared unblinkingly at the screen, recalling the contents of Lin Heng’s report, his breathing slightly uneven.

Then, with trembling fingers, he typed out a line:

“…You are Yang Luo, aren’t you?”

(End of chapter)