Chapter 71: It Really Was Her

After a brief moment of losing control, he suddenly released his grip.

The woman fell to the ground from midair, clutching her throat and coughing desperately. When she looked up and met his gaze, she instinctively pushed herself backward, fearfully retreating a step.

Bian Yang glanced at her with an expressionless face.

His gaze, lofty and cold, betrayed no emotion whatsoever.

The dangerous aura that clung to him—a predator’s presence unique to those in power—was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.

Beside him, a policeman struck the railing hard with his baton, his voice sharp and commanding, “Everyone, quiet down!”

Having witnessed what happened before, the disruptive woman instantly dared not make another sound.

Yet, sitting on the ground, pain subsiding, she still wore that indifferent, defiant look.

They had grown accustomed to such detainment, picking at their nails and tidying their hair without a care.

There was not the slightest reverence for the law, nor any remorse for bullying others; they willingly wallowed in their own depravity.

“Bian Yang, you were far too impulsive just now! No matter what, there’s legal punishment. You shouldn’t resort to violence!” the policeman scolded.

Bian Yang took a tissue, wiping each finger with distaste. “Sorry, I couldn’t hold back.”

“You see for yourself, these women are beyond saving,” the officer said, pointing at a few with his baton. “Those over there have been detained several times for assault and extortion, and those for prostitution. Each time, they spent ten days or half a month in reform, even wrote statements of repentance, but once released… they’re back at it.”

The policeman, too, found himself helpless facing such people.

Bian Yang’s gaze swept over them, shadowed and inscrutable. “When they assaulted Tang Yu, they claimed it was because of me. Yet, when they saw me, their first question was who I was.” He turned to the officer. “Didn’t you just say they’re always short on cash, extorting protection fees? It’s entirely possible someone paid them to do this.”

The officer thought it over and realized their reactions clearly showed they didn’t know Bian Yang.

“All right, I’ll ask again,” the officer replied.

Bian Yang nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem, it’s my duty.”

He was someone the chief had instructed them to accommodate, and since the incident happened in his district, it had to be handled properly.

Bian Yang stepped out of the room. Qin Mingyu asked, “How did it go?”

Bian Yang didn’t answer, instead pulling out his phone, dialing a number. “Uncle Li, I need you to look into something. I’ll send you a list—check if there’s been any unusual activity in their accounts recently.”

Qin Mingyu stared at him in surprise.

On the other end, Uncle Li agreed. Bian Yang lowered his eyelids and hung up.

Qin Mingyu said, “If you get Uncle Li to help, your father will definitely find out.”

Uncle Li was his father’s personal assistant, a hacker recruited at great expense, in charge of the company’s security systems. Naturally, breaking through information barriers to investigate some accounts posed no challenge.

But given how strained things had been between Bian Yang and his father, wasn’t this a slap in his own face?

His long lashes shielded the darkness in his eyes, the knuckles holding his phone pale.

“This is the fastest way.”

Without hard evidence thrown in their faces, those women would never confess, no matter how much the police questioned them.

Qin Mingyu looked at him, speaking softly. “Is it worth it?”

“It is,” Bian Yang replied, his voice husky, eyes downcast.

If he didn’t worry about Tang Yu being left alone here, if he didn’t want to accompany her through the college entrance exams and together go to Tsinghua or Peking University, he wouldn’t let these scum off so easily.

But this was the station; he couldn’t dirty his hands for the sake of a few lowlifes.

Though the timing was off, Qin Mingyu couldn’t help but mutter, “You’ve only known each other for less than a month, with classes and studies most days. How deep could your feelings really be?”

Bian Yang replied quietly, “Some people spend decades together and gain nothing. With others, a few days are enough.”

Hearing this, Qin Mingyu was taken aback.

He sensed, vaguely, that Bian Yang was serious.

This small county wasn’t vast; there were only so many places to spend money or bank. Within half an hour, Uncle Li had results.

He sent them to Bian Yang.

Bian Yang opened the email—sure enough, all six women’s bank cards showed suspicious activity.

Yesterday at noon, each account received fifty thousand yuan, all from the same sender: Meng Shirui.

Leaning against the wall, Bian Yang’s lips curled coldly. “As expected, it’s her.”

“Who?”

Bian Yang closed his phone, his expression impossibly calm. “A piece of trash.”

Just then, the interviewing officer emerged from the interrogation room, visibly frustrated.

“These women must have coordinated their stories. Every one of them claims they attacked the victim simply because they didn’t like her.”

Bian Yang showed him the email. The policeman’s expression instantly turned grave, his demeanor growing more complex.

“Six accounts receiving fifty thousand at the same time.” Even a fool could see something was wrong.

The officer pulled out his phone. “Send this to me. I’ll get someone to verify it. If it checks out, this Meng Shirui and the rest will probably be accomplices—I can go arrest her.”

Bian Yang forwarded the email. The officer, evidence in hand, had his colleagues confirm it.

He also had the six women separated for individual questioning.

With the bank records, the women tried to deny any involvement at first.

But eventually, one broke under pressure and confessed everything.

Once one told the truth, the others had no choice but to admit Meng Shirui had paid them, instructing them to sneak in during Qingyuan’s dismissal, when security was lax.

By the time it was all sorted, dawn had arrived.

The officer exited the interrogation room, finding Bian Yang and Qin Mingyu still waiting in the office, and immediately informed them.

“They confessed. It was a hired attack. But after working all night, you must be exhausted. Go home, rest up, and we’ll handle the rest.”

Bian Yang rose from his chair. “I think this shouldn’t be delayed. Let’s go now.”

The young officer, worn out from hours of questioning, was truly desperate for a break, but he had to say, “Even if we go, we can’t arrest anyone yet. We need the chief’s approval for a warrant…”

Qin Mingyu smiled, pulling out his phone. “No problem, I’ll call Uncle Zhang right now for the warrant approval.”

The officer could only sigh, realizing his shift was far from over.

Once the warrant was issued, Bian Yang went with the police to the Meng household.

At that moment, Meng Shirui lay on her princess bed.

In her dream, she wore a pristine, elegant wedding dress, walking hand in hand with Wen Brother in a sharp suit toward the sacred altar, the priest officiating their grand ceremony.

When the priest asked Zhou Wen if he was willing to marry her, Zhou Wen suddenly let go of her hand and apologized: Sorry, Shirui, I love Tang Yu, I can’t marry you.

Ignoring her cries and pleas, Zhou Wen abandoned her on the altar and left the wedding with Tang Yu!

“Ah!” Meng Shirui woke with a start, cold sweat on her brow.

Thankfully, it was only a dream.

The next moment, her face twisted in anger, she slammed her fist into the quilt.

“Even in my dreams, you steal Wen Brother from me! You wretched woman!”

But that wretch must be suffering now.

Meng Shirui sneered. The women she’d hired were all thugs, never gentle in their dealings.

Normally, Bian Yang followed her, giving no chance, but he couldn’t be with Tang Yu every moment, especially in the dormitory, where he couldn’t enter.

Even if she couldn’t secure the competition spot, she could still ensure Tang Yu wouldn’t be able to compete!

Her triumphant smile hadn’t yet blossomed when chaos erupted downstairs.