Chapter 57: The Missing Detail

Click.

The door of the ward creaked open, pushed by a rough, calloused hand.
That figure—one Luo Shaotian could recognize even in his sleep—walked in from the corridor.

It was Zhang Zheng.

He wore a plain, worn-out jacket, the collar frayed with age.
There were no flowers in his hand, no fruit basket—only that familiar chipped enamel mug.

His expression was grim, not the slightest hint of sympathy on his face.
Luo Shaotian struggled to sit up.

“Master…”

“Lie down, you!”

Zhang Zheng waved his hand impatiently, cutting him off. He strode straight to the window and shhhk—jerked the heavy blackout curtains shut.

The brilliant sunlight was cut off in an instant. The room fell into a cold half-darkness, lit only by the dim, sterile glow of the ceiling lamps.

“Hmph…”

Zhang Zheng dragged over a chair and dropped into the same seat where Director Zhang had been sitting earlier.

“The greetings and kind words, Director Zhang already covered them. I won’t repeat that nonsense.”

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes hard.
“So, tell me, hero—how does it feel?”

His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Getting praised by the big boss? Tomorrow, your ‘brave and selfless act’ will be the headline of the bureau’s official WeChat page. Might even win you the Quarterly Outstanding Officer award. Happy about that?”

Luo Shaotian bowed his head, saying nothing.
His face burned with shame.

“Happy my ass!”

Zhang Zheng’s anger finally erupted. He shot to his feet, jabbing a finger toward Luo’s face.

“Luo Shaotian! Do you have any idea you almost blew our entire operation?! Who the hell do you think you are? Superman? You think you can singlehandedly take down the Akagi Gang? What, been watching too many damn hero movies? Fried your brain already?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but every word struck like a heated hammer on Luo’s chest.

“We spent six months tracking the Butcher’s network! Half a year’s worth of infiltration, groundwork, manpower—and thanks to your solo ‘hero act’, all that’s gone to hell! Now look what you’ve done—startled the snake right out of the grass! Every Akagi base in District E vanished overnight! All our preparations—fed straight to the dogs!”

Every word dug deeper into Luo Shaotian’s heart.
Guilt, shame, and regret for his reckless sense of justice crashed over him like a tide.

“…I’m sorry, Master.”

That was all he could manage—a frail, hollow apology.

Seeing the pale, beaten expression on the young man’s face, Zhang Zheng’s fury softened—just a little.

He reached into his pocket, fished out a crumpled cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. The smoke coiled upward, veiling his lined face in a haze.

“…Well, I can’t pin it all on you,” he said at last, his tone weary, heavy with helplessness.
“After all, some people upstairs just love this kind of ‘hero story’.”

They sat in silence for a long time. Then Luo finally asked, voice trembling,

“Master… I actually don’t remember what happened that night. Could you tell me… what really happened?”

Zhang Zheng froze mid-drag.
“You want to hear which version?” he rasped.

“…There’s more than one?” Luo blinked.

“Of course.”

A bitter smirk tugged at Zhang Zheng’s mouth.

“One version will be on Director Zhang’s desk tomorrow, then rewritten into a nice, clean press release for the bureau’s official account.”

“The official version goes like this: You, Luo Shaotian—the rising star of our force—off-duty but ever-dedicated, followed your instincts like a true hound and discovered one of Akagi Gang’s major smuggling sites in District E.”

“There, you engaged in a fierce firefight with over a dozen heavily armed criminals. During the chaos, an old industrial gas line exploded, destroying the site and neutralizing most of the gang. You were blown away by the blast, yet miraculously survived.”

“The story ends with you using your last ounce of strength to dial emergency services. By the time reinforcements arrived, the battle was over.”

Zhang Zheng gave a crooked grin.
“What do you think? A fine story, huh? Maybe even worthy of the city’s ‘Top Ten Inspirational Figures’ list?”

Luo said nothing, his brows knitted tight.

Zhang Zheng’s clouded eyes bored into him through the cigarette smoke.
“What, cat got your tongue? You want the other version?”

“…I do.” Luo said firmly.

“Heh—”

Zhang Zheng crushed the cigarette under his shoe and leaned forward, his tone dropping several degrees colder.

“That’s the thing about those bastards upstairs… I hate how they act clueless, pretending not to know what’s right under their noses—all to protect their damn positions.”

“Tell me—what kind of gas explosion could vaporize reinforced concrete walls, yet leave not a trace of fire behind?”

“What kind of gas explosion could precisely grind a dozen drugged-up Akagi thugs into minced meat?”

Luo’s throat went dry. “Then… what really happened?”

Zhang Zheng went quiet again. He inhaled deeply, as if trying to suck all the oxygen out of the room.

“The truth, huh…”

“My guess—and it’s only a guess—is that you and the Akagi Gang weren’t the only ones in that factory that night.”

“You were the opening act. You did your part—stupidly brave, maybe—but you got knocked out. That was normal.”

“But after you passed out…”
He leaned closer, his voice a low rumble.

“…some people we can’t afford to mess with showed up.”

“When our team arrived—tipped off by an anonymous call from who-knows-where—the show was already over. Nothing left but ruins that looked like they’d been plowed by a goddamn tornado. And the Akagi Gang? Nothing left but chunks of meat.”

Silence swallowed the room.

Luo felt cold spread through his veins, as though submerged in icy water.
His mind hit an invisible wall—numbness, confusion, and dread all tightening in his chest.

“—You little brat.”

Zhang Zheng suddenly chuckled. He reached over and tapped the young officer lightly on the head.

“What’s with that look? The world’s already this messy—what’s one more mystery? If you’re that curious about the truth, dig it up yourself. There’s no wall that can hide a secret forever. I don’t believe those bastards can bury it for life.”

His tone softened.

“Anyway, your body might’ve recovered fast, but rules are rules.”
“The Director’s orders stand—you’ve got a full month of mandatory medical leave. That’s not a suggestion—it’s an order.”

“When your leave’s up, get your ass back to the station. We still need to deal with that little incident of yours—losing your gun. Sure, it was recovered at the scene, but you’re still writing me a ten-thousand-word self-critique. Not a single word short, you hear me?”

Luo didn’t argue. He couldn’t.

Zhang Zheng rose, ready to leave—but paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, right—one thing’s been bugging me.”

He turned his head.
“You punk, why’d you suddenly act up that night?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb. I checked the surveillance footage. You were buying barbecue, ready to go home—then suddenly turned around and followed someone. Why?”

“Oh…”

Luo’s expression shifted as a memory flickered back.
“I saw a driver who looked like the Butcher… so I followed him.”

“You saw him, fine—but why the hell act alone?! No one told you to go in guns blazing!”

Zhang Zheng rolled his eyes, clearly still irritated.

“Seriously, what the hell were you thinking—”

Bang!

The ward door slammed shut behind him.

But on the bed, Luo Shaotian’s once-dazed eyes snapped open wide.

Because in that moment—
he remembered the one detail he had missed…