The car jerked to a sudden stop, sending Qin Guan's body lurching forward uncontrollably.
Only then did he open his eyes.
A truck going the wrong way had abruptly changed lanes, forcing the police car to slam on the brakes—they had already entered a service area.
Lion's Ridge Service Area.
Qin Guan had a vague impression of this place—it led to the city where he and Qi Min had traveled for work, and also towards his hometown.
So, where exactly were they taking him?
"You alright?" The officer in the front passenger seat turned to look at Qin Guan.
Qin Guan was fine.
He sat up straight, raised his cuffed hands, pretending to wipe the fogged-up window while actually using the back of his hand to discreetly wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Sweat covered his head, his whole body.
Had he been asleep just now, or not?
He'd been in the car too long—hungry, tired, groggy. Qin Guan himself couldn't tell.
If he'd been asleep, how had he heard every word from the front seat? But if he hadn't been asleep, how had his thoughts drifted back to the past, to that memory he had long extinguished deep in his heart? Back to that madwoman he least wanted to think about?
Under the "escort" of the two officers, Qin Guan used the restroom.
Coming out of the restroom and stepping back into the cold night, he was put back into the rear seat. The officers didn't get in immediately; they stood outside the car, stretching their weary limbs.
"I'm going to grab some Red Bull," the driver, Captain Zhang, said. "Getting drowsy on the night drive. Haven't slept well lately."
He went inside to buy things. The two younger officers stayed outside the car, vigorously stretching their arms and waists, loosening up.
"Are you done yet?" A man emerged from the service area, snarling at the woman beside him. "Just this trivial crap, nagging on and on! Endlessly!"
"What did I nag about? It's your mom bullying me, alright? Your mom's got issues—" The woman protested, her voice rising.
"You say that again!" The man flared up, grabbed her by the collar, and instantly raised his fist in the air.
Naturally, the two officers didn't let that fist fall.
They just barked a command. Seeing the uniforms, the man's aggression instantly evaporated. He just gritted his teeth hatefully, dropped the woman, and strode back to his car.
Just a married couple arguing over trivial matters.
Qin Guan didn't pay it much mind, but the instant the man raised his fist, the look of panic and fear on the woman's face inexplicably stirred something in him—
His mind uncontrollably drifted back to his crazy mother—that day, when his drunkard father went out, the whole yard, the whole house, held only Qin Guan and his crazy mother. He chased after her frantically, demanding, "What do you want? Do you just want to ruin me?"
His crazy mother didn't answer. She opened her confused, muddled eyes, looking helplessly at his frenzy, reaching out to him, timidly, hopefully, gently: "Baby… baby not scared… baby… Mommy here…"
"Ah—" Qin Guan felt the anger in his chest surge like a tsunami. He grabbed the teapot from the small table beside him and smashed it onto the ground with all his strength.
The teapot shattered.
"You're faking it! How long are you going to keep pretending? What exactly do you want?"
Furious, he snatched up a shard of the broken teapot. Almost without thinking, he lunged at his crazy mother, one hand seizing her collar, the other gripping the shard—he pressed the sharp edge against her neck.
Rage threatened to shatter his small body. He gritted his teeth, screaming hysterically, "What do you want? Say it! Say it!"
Back then, on his crazy mother's face, was that exact same expression.
Panic. Fear.
That scene, Qin Guan remembered. He had always remembered.
She must have been scared. Otherwise, why did she stay completely still, her whole body stiff as wood? The porcelain shard was sharp as a knife; a single move could slice her throat.
She must have understood too, grasped the danger clearly.
"Baby… baby…" He still remembered her looking up at him, murmuring, "Baby… baby not scared… Mommy here…"
"What do you want? What do you want?" Qin Guan trembled all over. The last shred of reason held him back from actually doing it. But from his mother's eyes, from her mouth, he could never find the answer he sought.
He was drenched in sweat. He was breaking down.
"Qin Guan, your father was also domestically violent towards your mother, right?" The young officer leaned close to the car window, suddenly initiating a relaxed-sounding "chat" with Qin Guan.
Qin Guan shook his head, forcing away that unwanted memory—why think about that now? It was ancient history, centuries old. What mattered now was that the police had arrested him, were trying to convict him. How could he afford to be distracted by those old troubles?
He needed to muster every ounce of concentration to deal with the various "methods" the police would employ next, since they couldn't find the body or the evidence.
Domestic violence.
Yes, his drunkard father often beat his crazy mother. From as far back as Qin Guan could remember, he'd witnessed this scene often.
But the term "domestic violence" was something Qin Guan only learned after starting middle school.
Having seen his father behave like this so much as a child, he'd gotten used to it, didn't think much of it—didn't a crazy woman who constantly caused trouble deserve to be beaten?
But why were they asking this now?
"I've seen the records. Your father had a long history of domestic violence, right? Seems like he beat her periodically, you remember that?" The other officer opened his thermos cup, steam rising. His sharp gaze, hidden within the vapor, scrutinized Qin Guan.
Qin Guan looked at them coldly. His professional instincts told him the police had probably already investigated him thoroughly—his father's domestic violence had absolutely nothing to do with this case. Admittedly, a parent's violent tendencies could significantly influence their son, but in this case, it could at most serve as a weak point for a defense lawyer to argue, or as a minor consideration for a jury.
So, were they already preparing to send him, Qin Guan, to trial?
Too bad. Theories alone were far from enough. Without finding the body, without finding evidence, they couldn't even get an arrest warrant approved, let alone transfer the case for trial.
"Don't remember," Qin Guan replied coldly, starting to roll up the window glass.
"Don't remember? How could that be?"
The officer's movements remained casual, but his gaze was like a sharp blade, urgently trying to slice through Qin Guan's facade. "There was one time your mother was beaten so badly by your father she was hospitalized in the city. Took quite a while to recover, almost died. Such a big thing, you don't remember that either? Xu Ruyi remembers it."