Chapter Seven: Framed

Bruised and battered, Ning Kang was left alone in the deserted interrogation room after over three hours of questioning. He had assumed that once he had clarified everything, he would be allowed to call his family, but after the three officers left, he remained locked in the interrogation room. This left him deeply frustrated. He also wanted to call Zhang Jianhan, the deputy captain of the Major Crimes Unit at the City Criminal Investigation Division, who was his sworn brother since childhood, to inform him of his ordeal and some crucial details. But in this barren room, furnished with nothing but a fixed bench, his hopes were utterly impossible.

Just then, the door opened, and two officers in the rank-three inspector's uniform appeared before Ning Kang. The sudden burst of light from the hallway made it hard for his swollen eyes to adjust.

As he struggled to make out their faces, a familiar voice spoke, “Brother Ning, you must be hungry. We brought you a boxed meal and a bottle of water—have something for now.”

Ning Kang could now see that it was Little Wu and Little Wen from the city bureau's football team. He had helped them more than once to play matches against the police teams from Liuzhou, Guilin, and Beihai, and so they had always gotten along well.

Recognizing his friends, Ning Kang quickly replied, “Thank you both! But what I really want now is to call my unit and my family to explain the situation. Also, I’d like to call Brother Han. Could you help me with that? And my right ribs—two of them are broken and I urgently need treatment!”

Little Wen and Little Wu exchanged glances, then finally said with difficulty, “To be honest, half an hour ago, we could have done a lot for you. But then a call came from above, and everything changed. We don’t know exactly what happened, but it’s not looking good! Even bringing you food took a lot of pleading...”

Only then did Ning Kang grasp the gravity of the situation.

After a moment, he asked dejectedly, “Could you at least buy me a set of clothes? Just a cheap sports suit will do. My clothes are all stained with blood and filth—it's unbearable. My wallet was taken, so could you cover for me for now?”

Little Wu hesitated, then gritted his teeth and said, “I’ll go! I know what kind of person you are, Brother Ning, and I know what kind of person Lan Tao is. I trust you, Brother Ning!”

Watching Little Wu’s departing figure, Ning Kang was deeply moved. Through the thick iron bars, he took the boxed meal and water and sat down silently to eat. But after only a couple of bites, he found he couldn’t swallow, so he just kept drinking the bottled water.

Little Wen urged him worriedly, “Brother Ning, you must eat, or you won’t make it through tonight’s interrogation... Please, I’m begging you.”

Suddenly, Little Wen put on a stern face and, making a subtle gesture to Ning Kang to stay silent, barked coldly, “Hurry up and eat! The boss has a football bet this afternoon, don’t make me late for getting off work.”

At that moment, a policeman passed by, glanced in, shared a laugh, and moved on.

Ning Kang was comforted by Little Wen’s words. He knew that the “boss” referred to by Little Wen was his sworn brother, Zhang Jianhan. Zhang was respected as “the boss” by all the young officers in the bureau for his martial prowess, football skills, and character, and that was how he was addressed both on and off the pitch. So Ning Kang was sure Little Wen would notify his brother as soon as possible.

The new clothes Little Wu bought were delivered to Ning Kang after being checked by two other colleagues. Just as he finished forcing down the meal and water, he thanked them and began to change.

As he undressed, Little Wen clearly saw the bruises covering Ning Kang’s body and the two caved-in ribs on his left side. He knew Ning Kang’s ribs were broken, but seeing him change clothes silently, Little Wu, Little Wen, and the two other officers couldn’t help but look at him with admiration.

As soon as Ning Kang’s soiled clothes were packed into an evidence bag, a clamor of footsteps echoed from the corridor. The newcomers were Jian Jincheng and Liao Wenbin, the chief and deputy chief of the Pretrial Division, Deputy Director Huang Yan of the Southern District Police Station, and Captain Du Deming of the First Criminal Investigation Unit.

Seeing his subordinates bring food and clothes to Ning Kang, Huang Yan flew into a rage and berated them harshly. Only after Jian Jincheng and the others intervened did he drive the four away. The rest entered the interrogation room, and the heavy door slammed shut.

Half an hour later, Little Wen and Little Wu, who were in an office just below the interrogation room, heard a muffled thud from above, followed by the sounds of violent retching. Both recognized these sounds all too well—they had witnessed such scenes of vomiting and diarrhea during the forcible interrogation of a drug dealer.

Little Wen leaned close to the pale-faced Little Wu and whispered, “It’s almost time for shift change. I’m going to find the boss, or Brother Ning may not survive the night.”

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Smoke curled through the interrogation room as four exhausted policemen, drenched in sweat, chain-smoked to mask the stench of blood, vomit, and bodily waste.

By eight in the evening, after more than five hours of relentless questioning, Jian Jincheng and his men finally concluded the interrogation. A thick stack of “statements” was carefully checked, and after merging them with the morning’s records, Jian Jincheng decisively burned the “invalid” morning statements, preserving only the page with Ning Kang’s signature and the new ones they had meticulously prepared. After one last review, he handed the documents to Liao Wenbin for final inspection.

More than ten minutes later, Liao Wenbin finished reading and said with satisfaction, “Seamless—perfectly complete. The boss will be pleased.”

Jian Jincheng, Huang Yan, and Du Deming shared a knowing laugh. Afterward, Huang Yan and Du Deming opened the iron-barred door and re-entered the interrogation room, suppressing their revulsion at the sight and smell of blood, vomit, and excrement. Together, they dragged Ning Kang to the bars.

Straightening up, Huang Yan busied himself lighting a cigarette, while Du Deming seized Ning Kang’s right hand. The fingertips were so mangled and bloody that fingerprints were unrecognizable. Without hesitation, Du Deming dropped the right hand, grabbed the left, took the ink pad from Jian Jincheng, pressed Ning Kang’s insensible left index finger into it, and stamped the “confessions” one by one, finally finishing after nearly five minutes.