Chapter 110 Case Closed: Sun Xiaohai and Chen Anping are too similar
The doors to the interrogation room closed one by one, shutting out the noise from the outside world, leaving only the suppressed sounds of breathing and heartbeats echoing in the small space.
Three groups, each with their own strategies, stepped into their respective psychological battlefields.
First interrogation room: Wang Shun, Zheng Yu, and Zhou Wei
Zheng Yu's straightforward opening caught the taciturn Wang Shun somewhat off guard.
"Wang Shun, I heard your coworkers always make fun of you? Saying you're so quiet you can't even fart after being hit three times?" Zheng Yu went straight to the point, her eyes fixed on him.
Wang Shun paused for a moment, then habitually forced a simple, slightly ingratiating smile: "Hehe, they were just joking around."
"Are you kidding me?" Zheng Yu raised an eyebrow, her tone carrying a hint of pressure. "Aren't you angry? If someone insulted you like that to your face, I would have exploded by now!"
Wang Shun's smile froze on his face. His eyes flickered, and he avoided Zheng Yu's gaze, lowered his head, and said in a muffled voice, "...I'm used to it."
"Are you used to it?" Zheng Yu pressed. "Are you really used to it, or are you just pretending? Don't you feel a little resentful? Haven't you thought about showing them that you're not someone to be trifled with?"
Wang Shun's breathing became heavy. He suddenly raised his head, and a crack appeared on the habitually honest mask on his face. For the first time, his eyes revealed a clear, suppressed anger and resentment.
"I!" He opened his mouth, as if to shout, but ultimately deflated, his shoulders slumped, and his voice was weary. "What's the point of thinking about it? Fight? And then what? I'll lose my job, who will support my family? Forget it..."
That "forget it" was filled with the helplessness and resignation of the working class.
Zhou Wei then took out the warehouse floor plan and a simulated photo of the fire's starting point, pointing to the narrow crevice and the mountain of waste: "Wang Shun, you know this narrow crevice behind the duty room, right? The place filled with junk."
Wang Shun glanced at it and nodded: "I know, nobody goes there usually. It's too narrow, and it's full of waste. It's a pain to clean up."
Zhou Wei pointed to the deepest part of the photo and asked, "If I let you crawl in there, could you do it quietly? Wouldn't you bump into things and make some noise?"
Wang Shun looked at the photo carefully, then subconsciously touched his strong arms and shoulders, his face showing genuine embarrassment and a hint of amusement.
"Go in there?" He shook his head, his tone very honest. "Too much trouble! With my build, it would be difficult for me to even get in, let alone slip by quietly. Only a small, thin person could barely squeeze in, and they'd probably get covered in dust. They might even get cut by the wire or something."
Wang Shun's reaction was natural, showing no signs of nervousness at being exposed.
Zheng Yu and Zhou Wei exchanged a glance.
Wang Shun's reaction confirmed the conclusions of the spatial environment analysis and was consistent with his "patient but resigned" character. He may have harbored resentment, but this resentment was insufficient to drive him to overcome the enormous difficulties of arson.
Zhou Wei wrote in his notebook: "Excluded from suspicion. Physical condition does not meet the requirements for operation at fire site No. 3; resentment exists but willingness to act is low."
Second interrogation room: Ge Ming, Fan Wei, and Li Zhenliang
The atmosphere was relatively relaxed, but Ge Ming kept his head down and seemed somewhat dejected.
As planned, Li Zhenliang started by talking about daily work. Ge Ming answered in a standard manner, mentioning warehouse management and document organization in a calm, even somewhat numb, tone.
"I heard... your family introduced you to someone?" Li Zhenliang cautiously probed, observing Ge Ming's reaction.
Ge Ming's body visibly stiffened, his head drooped even lower, and his hands, resting on his lap, unconsciously twisted the hem of his clothes. He remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a soft "hmm."
"Not going too smoothly?" Li Zhenliang's voice was tinged with sympathy.
Ge Ming's shoulders slumped, his voice filled with bitterness and self-mockery, "She thinks I'm useless in the warehouse."
Li Zhenliang guided him to recount the details of the blind date, the woman's words, and his feelings at the time.
Ge Ming described the situation in detail, his mood was low, and he was filled with doubt about his own value and confusion about the future. He complained about the monotony of his work, the meager income, and the lack of a future, but from beginning to end, his anger was directed at himself and his vague fate. There was no strong, specific resentment, and he did not show any particular hatred for the warehouse.
When Li Zhenliang tried to ask in a low voice, using the method Liu Haoran had suggested, "With this anger bottled up inside, nothing seems right, especially this warehouse... Don't you think that destroying it would be a kind of relief?"
Ge Ming suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with pure astonishment and confusion.
"Destroy...destroy the warehouse?" He seemed to have heard something absurd. "If you destroy it, where can I go? I...I still need to eat! Even though it's not a great job, it's still a job." His reaction was genuine and direct, reflecting the instinctive concerns of a lowly person facing the struggle for survival.
Li Zhenliang and Fan Wei exchanged a glance.
Fan Wei shook his head slightly. Ge Ming's setbacks and pain were real, but they hadn't distorted him to the point where he needed to seek "relief" or "proof" through destruction.
Li Zhenliang understood and wrote in his notebook: "Out of the running for prime suspect." The sense of frustration was real, but the destructive urge was weakly directed.
As Li Zhenliang stepped out of the interrogation room, he encountered Zhou Weizu.
Li Zhenliang looked at Zheng Yu and shook his head: "Ge Ming is out of the running. He's very upset, but he didn't start the fire."
Zhou Wei also reported to Fan Wei: "Wang Shun's physique is too small to squeeze into the gap at the No. 3 fire point, and his reaction is natural, so he can be ruled out."
All eyes were focused on the tightly closed door of interrogation room number three, which was under the jurisdiction of Jiang Ling and Liu Haoran.
The lights in the interrogation room were deliberately dimmed.
Sun Xiaohai huddled in the chair, his head almost buried in his chest, his hands gripping the fabric of his trousers tightly at the knees, his knuckles white. His thin frame looked especially frail in the large chair, like a fallen leaf that could be blown away by the wind at any moment.
Jiang Ling sat opposite him, maintaining a suitable distance, her voice calm, as if chatting with a nervous friend: "Sun Xiaohai, what kind of work do you mainly do in the warehouse?"
"Paint." The voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
"Is painting tiring? The smell must be quite strong, right?" Jiang Ling replied naturally, her gaze gently falling on his lowered head.
"Hmm." Sun Xiaohai's body seemed to tense up even more.
Liu Haoran quickly wrote in the notebook next to him: Avoiding eye contact, his body tensed up, and his defensive posture was obvious.
"Do you usually eat and chat with your coworkers?" Jiang Ling continued to ask, her tone devoid of any judgment.
Sun Xiaohai remained silent for a few seconds, then shook his head slightly, gripping his pants even tighter until his knuckles turned bluish-white.
"I heard... Foreman Zhang has a rather impatient temper?" Jiang Ling's voice remained calm, but she threw out a specific name, the foreman who had been mentioned multiple times during the investigation for his poor attitude towards Sun Xiaohai.
Sun Xiaohai's body trembled violently, his head drooped even lower, and his shoulders began to shake slightly uncontrollably. He didn't answer, but his clenched fists and rapid breathing betrayed too much.
"When he yelled at you," Jiang Ling's voice softened, tinged with a barely perceptible understanding, "what were you thinking? Did you feel particularly aggrieved?"
Sun Xiaohai's body trembled more violently, his breathing became rapid, and his Adam's apple bobbed violently. Liu Haoran, who had been watching Sun Xiaohai's reaction, gave Jiang Ling a wink.
Jiang Ling also caught the barely suppressed anger and pain in Sun Xiaohai's bloodshot eyes as he suddenly looked up.
"Do you feel like nobody can see you? Nobody can hear you?" Jiang Ling's voice seemed to carry a penetrating power, piercing directly into his deepest wound. "Do you feel like no matter what you do, nothing can change anything?"
Sun Xiaohai's lips trembled violently. He suddenly raised his head, looking directly at Jiang Ling for the first time. His voice was hoarse and broken, filled with a long-suppressed sob: "I hate them! I hate that place! I... I just want them all to see! To see me!!"
He pounded his chest violently, shouting, "I'm not a piece of trash! I'm not!"
"So... that fire?" Jiang Ling didn't ask directly, but conveyed understanding with her eyes.
“Fire…” Upon hearing this word, Sun Xiaohai’s eyes suddenly became somewhat glazed, filled with a morbid fanaticism. Tears were still flowing, but the corners of his mouth twisted into a distorted, almost satisfied smile. “It’s so bright and hot when it’s burning! They all saw it! They’re all running, they’re all shouting!”
His voice carried a strange excitement, as if he could see the towering flames again: "I... I'll hide over there and watch, watch it burn. Burn away those things that look down on me, burn away the place that traps me!"
Jiang Ling picked up a photograph of the physical evidence on the table—the severely burned and deformed aluminum lunchbox.
She placed the photo in front of Sun Xiaohai, her voice low and somber: "Master Fan was in the duty room that night. When you lit the fire, did you see the light in that small window? He was eating the dinner he brought. It was dumplings his sick wife made for him; he always liked to heat them up for a late-night snack..."
Sun Xiaohai looked as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head; his fanatical expression froze instantly.
Sun Xiaohai's memory was suddenly pulled back to that ordinary dusk before the incident.
He had been publicly called "useless" by Foreman Zhang during the day, and he was hiding in the shadows of a corner of the warehouse, hungry and heartbroken, tears streaming down his face. It was Fan Guoping, the usually quiet and somewhat stern-looking old warehouse keeper, who saw him as he passed by. Fan Guoping didn't ask anything, just silently walked away, and after a while, he came back with his own lunchbox, still steaming inside.
"Xiao Hai, haven't eaten yet? Here, my wife made too much, pork and cabbage filling, it's still warm." Fan Guoping's voice was low, but carried an undeniable honesty. He stuffed the lunchbox into Sun Xiaohai's hand, muttering, "Young man, don't always go hungry, it's not good for your health."
That was one of the few moments of warmth that Sun Xiaohai felt in that warehouse, a warmth without any ulterior motive. That day, he ate several dumplings, his salty tears mingling with the aroma of the dumplings.
The immense regret and pain finally broke down Sun Xiaohai's last defenses.
He was no longer the arsonist who had gained twisted power from the flames; he had reverted to a child overwhelmed by immense guilt. He wailed, his body convulsing violently as he pounded his head against the armrests of the interrogation chair.
"Master Fan gave me dumplings to eat, he gave me dumplings to eat!" he cried, his voice broken and shattered. "I'm not human! I'm not human!"
He suddenly raised his head, his thin face streaked with tears and snot, looking at Jiang Ling with despair, his eyes filled with pleading and endless regret: "When the fire started, I saw smoke pouring in through the window. I... I smelled something burning. I think I also heard... I heard coughing. I was scared, I wanted to shout, I wanted to help. But... but the fire was too big, the smoke was too thick, I didn't dare, I ran away!"
He buried his head again, his sobs turning into suppressed, dying whimpers, "Waaah... I killed Master Fan! He was the one who gave me dumplings, he was the one who gave me dumplings..."
Jiang Ling and Liu Haoran remained silent, leaving only Sun Xiaohai's heart-wrenching sobs and heavy breathing in the interrogation room.
Liu Haoran's pen stopped on the notebook, and the charred lunchbox in the photo seemed so glaring at that moment.
A hint of indescribable pain flashed in Jiang Ling's eyes.
The truth is cruelly laid out before us: a soul that has endured too much coldness, in its madness of seeking to be "seen," burned down the person who had once given it a sliver of warmth, and in doing so, utterly destroyed itself.
Liu Haoran wrote heavily in his notebook: He confessed to the motive and process of arson. He confirmed that he did not have direct intent to kill Master Fan, but that there was negligence on his part.
Opening the interrogation room door, facing several pairs of probing eyes, Jiang Ling gave a brief report: "Sun Xiaohai confessed to arson. His motive was to seek a distorted sense of power and existence after being bullied and ignored for a long time. Master Fan's death was an accident; he didn't expect the fire to spread so quickly and the thick smoke to directly enter."
Jiang Ling paused, her voice slightly hoarse: "Before the incident, when Master Fan was feeling down after being scolded, he shared his dumplings with him. He wanted to save people, but was frightened by the fire and his own cowardice, and ultimately fled. He completely broke down and felt extremely remorseful about Master Fan's death."
A brief silence enveloped the team.
There were no cheers, only heavy sighs and a deep sense of powerlessness.
The portrait accurately pinpointed the target, the spatial geography perfectly corroborated the deduction, and the interrogation strategy successfully broke through the psychological defenses—this was undoubtedly a victory for the team's professional capabilities.
However, the taste of victory was so bitter.
As Liu Haoran watched Sun Xiaohai being led away, his thin, hunched back catching his breath, he recalled Sun's desperate cries during the interrogation, and a tightness gripped his chest. He thought of Chen Anping. Both were repressed souls, but one was pulled back in time, finding new life in the warmth of everyday life; the other, however, ignited a raging fire in despair, destroying the innocent life that had once given him warmth.
Liu Haoran's voice was somewhat low, "Sun Xiaohai and Chen Anping are too alike. If only we could have done it sooner..."
Jiang Ling patted his shoulder, her gaze sweeping over each team member—the heaviness and contemplation in Li Zhenliang's eyes, Zhou Wei's furrowed brows, Zheng Yu's rare silence, and Fan Wei's complex emotions as an old detective.
“Yes, it’s so similar.” Jiang Ling’s voice was soft, yet powerful. “That’s the significance of our psychological profiling. It’s not just about solving cases, but about understanding the reasons behind them. We not only need to catch the criminals, but also to know why they committed the crimes. Chen Anping was lucky; we reached out in time. Sun Xiaohai… we were too late.”
Jiang Ling looked in the direction where Sun Xiaohai disappeared: "But this also serves as a reminder to us. Our job is not only to combat crime, but also to detect and stop crimes before they occur!"
She turned to face the team, her tone regaining its usual composure: "The case closure report should not only clearly state the facts, but also thoroughly explain Sun Xiaohai's motives and psychological trajectory."
"Understood!" the crowd responded in unison, their voices carrying a heavy sense of responsibility and mission.
Li Zhenliang took a deep breath and straightened his back: "Team leader, Haoran and I will be responsible for the parts of the report about psychological motivation and social background. We will make sure to write them thoroughly and in depth."
“Okay.” Jiang Ling nodded. “Zhou Wei, the spatial geography analysis, especially the connection between the difficulty of the operation at fire point No. 3 and Sun Xiaohai’s physique, is your forte. Be sure to be rigorous and clear.”
"Yes!" Zhou Wei nodded emphatically.
Liu Haoran: "I will organize Sun Xiaohai's confession about Fan Guoping giving him dumplings, seeing the light and smelling the smoke when he lit the fire, wanting to save people but backing down, especially his remorse when he broke down."
Fan Wei looked at the group of young people, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes, and said in a deep voice, "Hurry up and form a complete chain of evidence and report as soon as possible. Give the deceased's family and society a responsible explanation."
Everyone dispersed and went back to work, leaving the office lights on late into the night.
Outside the window, the autumn rain began to fall again, drizzling down.
Jiang Ling sat at the table, opened Professor Ying Xuanji's "Criminal Psychology," and began to review it seriously.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com