Yang Wenqing recalled the report from Forensic Doctor Ding, which mentioned the deceased’s despair and regret before his death. As he looked at the weeping woman before him, he began to understand the state the man had been in.

The mere thought was enough to stir up negative emotions within him, and a dark barrier manifested in his Spirit Sea. Startled, Yang Wenqing immediately purged these feelings and focused all his attention back on the case.

The woman’s heart-wrenching sobs, carried on the sea breeze, gradually faded into feeble whimpers until only the slight heaving of her shoulders remained. She sat slumped on the ground, as if every ounce of her strength had been drained away.

Meanwhile, Wu Yan had led the young man and woman out of the courtyard to take their statements under a banyan tree.

Yang Wenqing waited for the most intense flood of the woman’s emotions to subside before approaching again. This time, he didn’t use rune paper. Instead, he channeled a sliver of gentle Spiritual Qi through his fingertip and lightly touched the center of her back, helping her steady her scattered mind.

Yan Kuan crouched down, unfastened a waterskin from his waist, and offered it to her. "Ma’am, have some water. Take a moment to compose yourself."

His voice was low and steady, carrying a reassuring strength. "This isn’t the time for just crying. We have to drag out the bastard who did this to Brother Dayong and make him pay with his life, so Brother Dayong can rest in peace."

The woman mechanically took the waterskin but didn’t drink, merely clutching it tightly. The cool touch seemed to clear her head slightly. She lifted her head, her vision blurred with tears as she looked at Yan Kuan.

"Think carefully," Yan Kuan prompted gently, his tone unhurried. "For Brother Dayong to take this job, someone must have arranged it. Who approached him? What’s his name? Where can he be found?"

The woman’s eyes looked distant as she tried to recall. "It was a foreman. Everyone just called him ’the Old Man.’ He works over at the docks, finds odd jobs for people... and also handles some shady business..."

Her words trailed off.

"’The Old Man?’" Yan Kuan’s brows knitted slightly. As the captain of the Port District’s patrol unit, he was surprised he’d never heard the nickname. He exchanged a glance with Yang Wenqing before asking, "What’s his full name? Where does he usually operate?"

"I don’t know his full name, only that they call him ’the Old Man.’" The woman struggled to recall. "He’s usually around Pier 3, watching the crews unload cargo. Sometimes he drinks at the nearby food stalls..."

Yan Kuan pressed on. "Around the time of the incident, did you notice anything unusual about this ’Old Man’? Or did Brother Dayong ever mention who he was doing this particular job for?"

The woman shook her head, her expression blank. "Dayong was tight-lipped. A while back, I think, our neighbor Er’gou mentioned seeing ’the Old Man’ at the docks talking to some strangers. He said they were dressed nicely, didn’t look like they were from around here. I haven’t really seen ’the Old Man’ since then..."

’He disappeared?’

Yang Wenqing’s gaze sharpened.

"Captain Yan, look into this ’Old Man’ immediately!" Yang Wenqing said decisively. "I want his full identity, his address, and the last time and place he was seen. Focus on his social circle—find out who he’s been in close contact with, especially those ’nicely dressed’ strangers."

"Understood!"

Yan Kuan immediately got to his feet, activating the Communication Array on his chest badge to call for support. He spoke with the woman a little longer, and after confirming there were no more useful leads, he and Yang Wenqing left the courtyard.

In the distance, Wu Yan saw Yang Wenqing emerge and spoke sharply to the young man. "We might be back at any time before this case is closed. Don’t go pulling a disappearing act, understand?"

He said it hoping the young man would stop pressuring his mother.

Yan Kuan watched the young man head back toward the courtyard. But just as he was about to enter, the woman turned and walked toward the center of the village. The young man actually followed her, without a single thought of going back to comfort his mother.

After leaving Linhai Village, Yan Kuan led Yang Wenqing and Wu Yan straight to the small food stalls near Pier 3.

These stalls were where dockworkers rested, drank, and exchanged information. They flashed their credentials and went from stall to stall, asking about "the Old Man."

Before long, a somewhat blurry black-and-white photograph ended up in Yang Wenqing’s hands. The "Old Man" in the picture was just as described: gaunt, with a shrewd, mercenary glint in his eyes—the kind of man you’d often find scraping by at the lowest rungs of the docks.

Meanwhile, using the Port District’s public security system, Yan Kuan quickly pulled up the "Old Man’s" registration information: his real name was Zhao Laosuan, fifty-two years old, unmarried, and he lived in a messy, crowded shantytown on the edge of the Port District.

However, when Yang Wenqing and Yan Kuan arrived with a team at Zhao Laosuan’s residence, they found the door to the low-lying shack locked. Peeking through a window, they saw only a few pieces of dilapidated furniture coated in a thin layer of dust. Clearly, no one had been home in days.

Inquiries with the neighbors yielded similar reports to what Chen Dayong’s wife had said: no one had seen Zhao Laosuan for about a week or so.

"Investigate his relationships! Find out who he’s been in contact with recently!" Yang Wenqing ordered.

Yan Kuan’s men moved at once, digging into Zhao Laosuan’s social network. The investigation unexpectedly rooted out a small-scale contraband smuggling ring operating in the port. Yan Kuan, his spirits buoyed, immediately threw most of his energy into this sudden smuggling case—after all, it was a tangible accomplishment, a credit he could see and touch.

Yang Wenqing, on the other hand, took Wu Yan and continued to doggedly pursue the lead on "the Old Man," Zhao Laosuan.

For the next two weeks, Yang Wenqing practically lived in the Port District.

He interviewed everyone who might have a connection to Zhao Laosuan, from other foremen and the owners of the food stalls to a few of his distant cousins.

At the same time, he meticulously studied the case files on the newly discovered smuggling ring, trying to find a deeper link between Zhao Laosuan and the group, or any trace of those "nicely dressed" strangers.

But the results were disappointing.

While Zhao Laosuan had occasionally acted as a middleman for the smuggling ring, he was merely a fringe player who made a little money on the side. Regarding the well-dressed people, there wasn’t a single valuable lead.

Zhao Laosuan had vanished completely, like a drop of water in the ocean.

Likewise, the search for eyewitnesses had yielded nothing.

The case seemed to have hit a dead end. To put it plainly, the trail had gone cold. It was then that he recalled Xiao Liang’s words of warning.

On the sixteenth day since the case file was opened, Vice Director Gao summoned Yang Wenqing to his office through the Major Case Team’s internal Communication Array. Contrary to what Yang Wenqing expected, the vice director’s attitude was as pleasant as ever.

"You’ve done well to get the case this far. Preserve the existing leads, issue a warrant for the fugitive Zhao Laosuan, and let’s just close the case."

Vice Director Gao then began to console Yang Wenqing. "The Bureau gets a lot of cases like this. There are things in this world that even the Director-General can’t get to the bottom of. Don’t take it to heart."

At this, he lowered his voice. "Even if someone turns into a monster through a ritual sacrifice, it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. A monster’s body is full of rare cultivation materials, especially for the purpose of Gathering Spirit."

He finished with a short laugh, then stood and gestured to Yang Wenqing. "The Director wants to see you. He can be a bit harsh. If he chews you out, just take it and don’t let it get to you."

Yang Wenqing looked up at Vice Director Gao, clearly not having expected this outcome.