The weapon by the pillow

Chapter 97 Jin Xiaohao, a Small-Time Character

"Death Warning!!"

All eyes turned to Cheng Tan.

"What do you mean?" the gunman asked loudly, intrigued.

Cheng Tan pointed to the dice: "If I'm not mistaken, these dice weren't collected by Sister Fang herself. Someone gave them to her. Each die represents someone she killed, or someone who suffered because of her. The person who gave her the dice was warning her that the debt she owes can never be repaid."

Fang Jie suddenly raised her head, her eyes fixed on Cheng Tan.

Cheng Tan seemed to recognize that look in his eyes; it seemed to contain shock, fear, and a hint of... relief?

"How did you know?" she asked in a low voice, releasing her grip on the dice.

"Because of logic," Cheng Tan said. "If you really were the murderer, the demon who cut off these people's fingers, you wouldn't put these dice in such an obvious place, you wouldn't take them out to play with during a card game, and you wouldn't tell their story so easily. You're torturing yourself with these dice, and you're also using them to remind yourself—you can't forget."

He paused, then looked at the man with the gun: "And you know all of this. Not only do you know, you're using it. You're forcing Sister Fang, forcing her to make a choice: to remain silent, or to tell the truth."

The man laughed, his laughter tinged with admiration: "Cheng Tan, you are indeed clever. No wonder so many people are interested in you."

"But you won this round, so what question do you want to ask?" Sister Fang laughed.

"The question I want to ask is actually very simple, which is..." Cheng Tan pushed over his cards, "What kind of person is Jin Xiaohao?"

"He's already dead! What's the point of mentioning a nobody like him?" Sister Fang said.

"But I've heard he's a hero, a great man, a successful entrepreneur and philanthropist in Anpingli! He saved many people... including you!" Cheng Tan laughed. "You might not really understand what I'm saying, but I just want to ask you an example: Has Anpingli been demolished in all these years?"

"Of course there was no demolition... After that incident, who would dare to demolish Anpingli!" Director Sun interjected. "I know about this matter, of course. Every year, thousands of residents here ask in different ways why there's no demolition? Why isn't this area being developed? Why is development here so slow? But everyone knows the reason... It's because of what happened to Anpingli thirteen years ago during the demolition..."

"Yes! Because apart from this case, no one is willing to bring up the demolition issue again!" Cheng Tan sighed. "So, Anpingli has been left unresolved here, in the very center of Jiangzhou, for a full thirteen years!"

"Cheng Tan, what are you talking about? We didn't come here tonight to discuss this!" Cheng Jing tugged at Cheng Tan's arm, whispering a reminder, "We're in a very... dangerous situation right now!"

"Your words... have a hidden meaning," the gunman laughed. "I enjoy hearing them... Go on!"

"But who cares about the lives of the people in Anpingli!" Cheng Tan shouted. "Except for Jin Xiaohao... only he helps those waiting for their homes to be demolished, those elderly people, and those who have suffered in the past..."

Fangjie's hand suddenly trembled. She picked up a tile, a nine of bamboo, but instead of playing it, she clenched it tightly in her palm.

"Jin Xiaohao..." Her voice was very soft, as if she were talking to herself, "In that sense, he has indeed done a lot. But he has also taken a lot of things he shouldn't have taken."

"What is it?" the gunman pressed.

Fang Jie raised her head, her gaze sweeping over Cheng Tan, then over Cheng Jing, and finally landing on the man with the gun: "You want to know? Then let's continue playing cards. If you win this round, I'll tell you."

"Okay." The man nodded, his gun still pointed at Sister Fang, but his other hand had already started arranging the cards. "Whose turn is it?"

"Me." Mr. Zhao's voice trembled as he played an East Wind card.

A question was raised, by a nobody, and the game continued, but the pace clearly changed. Everyone was thinking, not just about their cards, but also about the overall situation.

Perhaps everyone in Anpingli has gained a new understanding. Cheng Tan noticed that the man with the gun made a subtle movement under the table—his index finger lightly tapped his thigh, twice quickly and once slowly, repeating this three times. This was some kind of signal.

Who was he signaling to? Besides them, the only other person in the room was the waitress at the door.

But the waitress had her back to the card table and seemed to be intently looking out the door.

No, that's not right. Cheng Tan's gaze swept across the corner of the room. There was a small decorative shelf there, displaying several pieces of porcelain. One of the blue-and-white porcelain vases was in an odd position, its mouth slightly tilted, facing directly at the card table.

Cameras. There may be hidden cameras in the room.

Could it be that someone outside is watching all of this?

Cheng Tan's heart sank. If the other side had backup, then the chances of him and Cheng Jing escaping would be even slimmer.

He must find a breakthrough as soon as possible.

On the thirteenth round, Cheng Tan drew a four of bamboo. His hand was now ready to win, waiting for the four and seven of bamboo. But he deliberately discarded a safe card – the North Wind.

"Pong," Fangjie said, her voice calm as if the emotional turmoil had never occurred. She picked up the North Wind tile, formed a set, and then touched the mahjong tile.

She glanced at the tiles, her expression unchanged, and played a five of bamboo.

Cheng Tan's heart skipped a beat. Five of a kind was a winning hand for him.

But he still didn't move. He was waiting, waiting for a more suitable opportunity.

The man with the gun seemed to sense something. His gaze shifted back and forth between Cheng Tan and Fang Jie, finally settling on Fang Jie's hand. Fang Jie's hand was steady, but her left little finger was trembling slightly—an almost imperceptible detail.

"Sister Fang," the man suddenly spoke, "you just said that Jin Xiaohao took some things he shouldn't have. What exactly were they?"

Fang Jie played a two of bamboo: "Some documents. A complete record of the demolition of Anpingli thirteen years ago, including a list of all relevant personnel, the flow of funds, and... an accident report."

"Accident report?" Cheng Jing couldn't help but ask, "You mean those 'accidental deaths'?"

"That wasn't an accident," Fang Jie's voice was cold. "It was murder. A planned murder. To remove the holdouts, to ensure the project proceeded smoothly, someone orchestrated those 'accidents'."

Director Sun's face turned even paler. His hands trembled violently, and after picking up a card, he couldn't hold it properly, and the card fell onto the table—it was a Red Dragon.

"Red Center..." he murmured, as if he had seen something terrifying.

"Director Sun," the gunman turned to him, "thirteen years ago, you were in charge of approving urban renewal projects. The Anpingli project was personally approved by you. After those 'incidents,' what did you do?"