003 Interrogation by the Beautiful Policewoman

Amidst his reverie, Zhang Ziwen was escorted by two policemen into a room that, judging by its furnishings, appeared to be an interrogation chamber. One of the policemen gestured for Zhang Ziwen to sit on the unique wooden chair positioned in the center of the room. Its distinctive shape, unlike common chairs, indicated its specialized use for detainees. After Zhang Ziwen sat down, the policemen closed the wooden boards on both sides of the chair, effectively restraining his body while placing his handcuffed hands on the boards. Apart from restricting his movement, it wasn't particularly uncomfortable. After inspecting the chair and finding nothing abnormal, the policemen exited the room.

Zhang Ziwen thought to himself, feeling somewhat annoyed that despite all the commotion, the policemen hadn't started questioning him yet. After all, he had only been involved in a massage parlor incident; he was sure to answer any questions they had.

The situation wasn't significant, and Zhang Ziwen calmly waited for the police to begin questioning him. Meanwhile, he observed the interrogation room. In addition to the chair he was sitting on, there was a desk about two meters away, equipped with a computer, a printer, and a desk lamp. Behind the desk were two chairs, likely for the interrogators. Adjacent to the desk was a standing lamp, resembling a spotlight, probably used for nighttime interrogations.

Zhang Ziwen was relieved that it was early in the morning, sparing him from harsh lighting.

After a short while, footsteps outside the door signaled the arrival of two policemen. Both were in uniform, and one of them was familiar to Zhang Ziwen. They had encountered each other twice before: once at the massage parlor and the second time in his dream. Now, it seemed to be their third encounter. She was none other than the policewoman known as Inspector Wu. When she entered, Zhang Ziwen felt a slight surge of excitement.

Accompanying the policewoman was a young male officer, around twenty-five or twenty-six, with a handsome appearance. He carried a large plastic bag and, upon entering, emptied its contents onto the table. Aside from clothing, the bag contained items like a wallet, cigarettes, a lighter, a watch, and a cellphone, making clattering sounds as they landed on the table.

Zhang Ziwen inwardly cursed at their lack of care as the male officer handled his belongings. These items were his, after all.

Last night at the bathhouse, he had lost the tag used to store his belongings on his wrist while being restrained by the police. He had assumed it was lost in the massage room, but apparently, the police had obtained it.

The male officer pushed Zhang Ziwen's belongings aside, started up the computer, and prepared for the interrogation record. Meanwhile, the policewoman fixed her gaze on Zhang Ziwen without blinking. His mood soured as he felt the intensity of her stare. It was like a psychological game; all policemen seemed to employ it. They stared at you with an air of self-righteousness, making you feel uneasy, then proceeded with relentless questioning.

Zhang Ziwen was indignant. Was it necessary to treat someone involved in an attempted sexual transaction like this? He hadn't forgotten that he was brought in for solicitation. Quickly, he diverted his gaze, putting on a serious expression and preparing to answer the policewoman's questions properly, hoping for leniency.

"Name!" The interrogation began, and the policewoman's voice, though pleasant to hear, was icy, lacking warmth.

"Zhang Ziwen," he replied, snapping out of his reverie and attempting to sound honest.

"Age."

"Twenty-four." Zhang Ziwen felt a discomforting sensation. "Today's the 26th, right?" he asked in return.

"What does that have to do with anything? Who told you to ask questions? Your age!" The policewoman's voice now carried impatience.

"Sigh," Zhang Ziwen sighed. "Twenty-four. It's my birthday today." He sounded a bit dejected. What a situation to be in—spending his birthday in custody.

The male officer interjected sarcastically, "Sigh? Planning to celebrate? Want us to sing 'Happy Birthday'? Answer the questions honestly!"

"Damn it!" Zhang Ziwen cursed inwardly, finding the male officer who was recording to be extremely disrespectful with his words. From that moment on, Zhang Ziwen mentally categorized the handsome officer as one of those lacking in manners.

The lack of decency irritated Zhang Ziwen greatly, but he didn't glare at the officer in anger. Instead, he cast a disdainful glance at him and shook his head lightly. "No manners," Zhang Ziwen thought to himself. Although he didn't voice his thoughts, he believed that the two officers before him could understand his sentiments. The male officer became visibly angered, ready to act impulsively, but the policewoman intervened in time. After all, impulsiveness had no place in interrogating a suspect.

"Ethnicity," the policewoman continued with the mundane procedure.

"Han," Zhang Ziwen replied, feeling somewhat resigned to the formal inquiries.

"Where do you live?"

"Building 3, Unit 2, Apartment 4, 84 Xianghe Lane, Annan Road, Zhonghai City," Zhang Ziwen responded woodenly.

"What is your occupation?"

"Unemployed," Zhang Ziwen replied with a wry smile. At twenty-four, still being unemployed felt somewhat embarrassing.

"Married?"

"Not married," Zhang Ziwen quickly added, "And I don't even have a girlfriend."

"I didn't ask you that," the policewoman scolded Zhang Ziwen with a glance.

The subtle disdain in her eyes caught Zhang Ziwen off guard. Even her disdain seemed to carry a certain allure. "Well behaved, I like it," Zhang Ziwen mused inwardly.

"Do you know why you're here?" the policewoman asked politely, despite the circumstances.

"Have no idea," Zhang Ziwen replied honestly.

"Really have no idea?"

"Really have no idea!" Zhang Ziwen affirmed.

"Think carefully. Why were you brought in?" The policewoman's beautiful eyes scrutinized Zhang Ziwen's facial expressions, sharp and charming at the same time.

Zhang Ziwen pretended to ponder for a while before shaking his head. "Can't remember. How about a cigarette to refresh my memory? Maybe that will jog it."

The craving for a smoke reminded Zhang Ziwen of how interrogations on television often fulfilled such small requests. Given the chance, he wasn't about to miss out.

The policewoman gave Zhang Ziwen a stern look, which in his eyes, turned into a flirtatious yet annoyed gaze. His heart skipped a beat. Was he starting to like her? It was an unrealistic thought, but her attractiveness was undeniable.

Despite her dissatisfaction with Zhang Ziwen's attitude, the policewoman signaled the recording officer to pass a cigarette from the table to Zhang Ziwen. Reluctantly, the male officer handed Zhang Ziwen a cigarette and lit it for him.