Electronic Nezha

Chapter 38 witnessed the entire process.

The local police station is right next to the cold storage, practically across the street from us; it's just across the road.

A third-level police superintendent led the way, while an auxiliary police officer walked between us and Zhang Biao, separating us. Several onlookers also wanted to follow us into the police station, but were stopped outside by the auxiliary police officer.

The police station lobby was bustling with people, some coming to get various certificates, others to renew their ID cards. Our generation still has a sense of awe for the words "police station," especially when we were just growing up. The adults would scare us by saying, "Be careful, the police station might come and arrest you."

I've been to this place several times since Liu Zhenhua came along, for things like transferring my household registration and getting an ID card, but this is the first time I've been here because of a fight. I don't know if this counts as being "arrested by the police station," but anyway, it's another chapter in my life's story...

After passing through the lobby, two policemen led us to the door of a room in the middle of the first-floor corridor, with a sign that read "Mediation Room".

Zhang Biao immediately shouted again, "I won't accept mediation! My face has already suffered minor injuries; this is a criminal case!"

The third-level superintendent said, "We'll have to wait until we understand the situation before we can say anything."

I quickly said, "We are willing to mediate." As I spoke, I was about to push the door open and go inside.

A third-level superintendent stopped me: "Then wait—they're being transferred inside. They'll transfer you after they're done."

"Uh, okay." This room is used quite a lot, but it feels like I've gone to an old Chinese medicine doctor's...

Fortunately, the conflict was quickly resolved: the upstairs residents agreed to stop partying after 10:30 p.m., and the downstairs residents promised to stop using the noise-making device. Both parties signed the agreement, and the people and the police left.

The mediation room wasn't large, containing an oval-shaped table with a computer and two chairs at one end—where the police officers sat. A row of chairs lined the other side of the table. Behind the officers' seats, the words "Mediation According to Law" were written in large characters. Next to them hung some relatively lighthearted slogans, such as "Think broadly and look at things from a higher perspective," and "What seems infuriating today will seem laughable tomorrow," giving the impression of the government saying, "Let it go."

We each found a seat and registered our names, phone numbers, and ID cards. The auxiliary police officer typed away, while Zhang Biao kept talking and shouting that he wanted to go to the hospital. A market manager also came with him this time.

The third-level police superintendent said to the market management, "Tell me what you know first."

"I was called over later, and I don't know anything about it." After saying that, the market manager looked down at his phone.

The third-level superintendent then asked the auxiliary police officer, "There are no security cameras at the scene, right?"

"No."

The third-level superintendent pointed at us and said, “Now it’s your turn to speak—” he emphasized, “one by one, don’t exaggerate or hide anything, who wants to go first?”

Zhang Biao slammed his fist on the table and said, "What else is there to say?" He pointed at me and Lao Wang and said, "Look at how badly they beat me up. I demand a medical examination!" His face was covered in blood. On the way to the police station, he had taken a whole roll of toilet paper from a fruit stand and was now sticking it all over his face in patches. He had also torn off a large wad and piled it on his chin. In terms of appearance, he had certainly achieved the goal of striking first.

I said, "Don't pull me, I didn't touch you."

The third-level superintendent asked, "Then what is your connection to this matter?"

Old Wang said, "He's my boss."

Zhang Biao said, "Anyway, it's not a good thing."

The third-level superintendent said with a headache, "Tell us one by one, who made the first move?"

Zhang Biao pointed at Lao Wang, while Lao Wang pointed at himself.

"he!"

"I!"

I cursed him under my breath as a brute. Old Wang was shrewd in business, but he had a naive and simple sense of justice. He must have thought that it was an honorable thing to strike first in that situation. But this was the police station! If you strike first, you have no right to do anything.

I quickly said, "At that time—"

The third-level superintendent said, "It's your turn to speak!" He then said to Zhang Biao, "You go first."

Zhang Biao stood up, his voice menacing: "I was patrolling the market this morning when he came up and started hitting me!"

The third-level superintendent asked, "Why?"

"How would I know?" Old Wang finally found an opportunity to speak, saying, "That kid, relying on his power, always bullies us. If the truck arrives at the gate, he won't let you in unless you buy him a pack of good cigarettes. If you put fruit out there normally, he says you're breaking the rules. When his relatives and friends come, they can take whatever they want from whose stall, without ever paying him. I've disliked him for a long time!"

I got anxious and thought, "Why are you bringing this up? Doesn't this confirm that you're seeking personal revenge?"

I held Lao Wang down and said to the policeman, "Comrade, we didn't start it. He bullied the idiot first."

"What idiot?"

"There's a mother and son in the market. The son is mentally challenged, named Hao Hao, and we all call his mother Aunt Xu—"

The two policemen were completely bewildered: "What is all this about?"

Just then, the door to the mediation room opened, and a pleasant voice rang out: "You're not very eloquent either, so let me do it."

It was that girl in the pink down jacket. She stepped in, tossed her hoodie back, and casually took off her aviator sunglasses, revealing a delicate oval face, a neat haircut, and a pair of bright, dark eyes with thick, long eyelashes. Her appearance exuded a sharp aura, and everyone in the mediation room was stunned.

The third-level superintendent asked, "Who are you?"

The girl said, "I witnessed the whole thing."

The auxiliary police officer asked, "Where were you just now?"

"I went to park my car."

I always felt that this statement was both reasonable and unreasonable, and unreasonable yet reasonable. It just felt strange, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

The third-level superintendent said, "Then tell me."

"Okay." The girl said, put her phone on the table, used her sunglasses as a phone stand, and started playing a video for us. It was a video of Lao Wang and Zhang Biao fighting. From the moment they each threw their first punch, it was a real, unfiltered fight.

The auxiliary police officer asked the girl, "Did you take this picture?"

"Correct."

The phone was positioned so that everyone in the room could see it. Zhang Biao immediately shouted, "See? He started it!"

Both policemen gave Old Wang a deep, penetrating look.

"Fengzi, don't worry about it, you'll be responsible for getting me out later." That's what Lao Wang shouted to me.

The two policemen looked even more serious. This was malicious intent. If everyone had this kind of "awareness," wouldn't the police be exhausted?

I stammered, "Look, I really didn't do anything." I could only try to make amends from another angle.

Then the video camera panned, and a mop appeared on the screen, smoothly handed to Old Wang from behind; the mop was even shown in close-up...

The third-level superintendent said, "Wait, who handed this to me?"

The girl looked down and said naturally, "I didn't see it."

"Do you know?" the policeman asked Old Wang.

Old Wang may be reckless, but he's not stupid: "I don't have eyes in the back of my head."

I glanced guiltily at the girl, but she wasn't even looking at me. No wonder she was showing a close-up of the mop; if she had taken a wide shot, I would have been exposed! But what I admired most was the girl's acting skills; she made her lie sound like the truth…

　Thanks to "Liu Fengyan" for becoming the patron of this book. He is a reader and also a friend of Xiaohua in real life, a hardcore person who runs five kilometers every day.

　　Thank you to everyone who voted for and tipped for the electronic Nezha.

　　Love you all.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)