The Republic of China: I, Xiangzi, a Hero in a Chaotic Era

The sour, putrid smell of vomit instantly filled the air, only to be dispersed by the biting cold wind.

He was breathing heavily, making a hoarse, bellowing sound in his throat, his consciousness becoming increasingly blurred under the influence of intense physiological reactions and the numbing effect of alcohol.

Just as his entire body leaned forward from vomiting, exposed defenselessly outside the bridge railing, a dark figure emerged silently from the shadows at the bridgehead like a ghost.

The shadowy figure moved swiftly and precisely, without the slightest hesitation, like a hunting owl.

He darted behind Erqiangzi in a few steps, and taking advantage of the moment when Erqiangzi bent over to vomit and shifted his center of gravity forward, he grabbed Erqiangzi's leg, which was supporting him on the bridge railing and was trembling slightly from vomiting, and lifted it upward with all his might, while simultaneously thrusting his shoulder forward!

Erqiangzi felt his supporting leg suddenly lose its footing, and an irresistible force came from his lower body, causing his entire body to lose balance instantly and fall forward lightly.

He didn't even have time to utter a complete gasp; a short "uh" escaped his throat before being completely choked by cold, vomit-filled filth.

Erqiangzi, like a heavy bag of garbage, plunged headfirst into the dark, icy river below the bridge.

Pfft!

The heavy sound of the water hitting the water was particularly clear in the silent night, but it was quickly swallowed up by the howling cold wind.

The icy river water instantly enveloped Erqiangzi's entire body, jolting him awake from his slumber.

He instinctively tried to struggle and shout, but the icy river water immediately choked him.

Even more fatally, the viscous vomit that he had not yet expelled from his throat now became a deadly embolism.

Erqiangzi opened his mouth wide in vain, but could only make a few muffled "woo-woo" sounds, like a chicken being strangled.

The river water rushed wildly into his trachea and lungs, bringing excruciating pain and suffocating despair.

He flailed and scratched wildly in the water, creating a chaotic splash, but his body sank uncontrollably like a weight.

The icy river water greedily devoured his body heat and strength, while darkness and a suffocating feeling tightened around his consciousness like an iron clamp.

On the shore, the dark figure stood silently by the bridge railing, like a sculpture blending into the night.

He leaned forward slightly, his cold gaze piercing through the darkness, firmly locking onto the foamy waters of the river, churning from the struggle of the drowning person.

He watched the chaotic spray of water go from intense to weak, and watched the futile scratching movements gradually become sluggish and powerless, until they finally disappeared completely.

The water gradually returned to calm, leaving only a few ripples spreading silently in the cold wind before finally fading into silence, as if nothing had ever happened. Only a faint, lingering stench of foul odor remained in the frigid air.

After confirming that the target had no chance of survival, the shadowy figure did not linger for a moment.

He quickly straightened up and glanced warily at the empty bridge and the streets at both ends.

A cold wind swept up a few withered leaves from the ground, swirling them as they drifted by.

Once he was sure no one was watching, the shadowy figure immediately turned around, moving as nimbly as a cat, his footsteps barely making a sound on the cold stone pavement.

He quickly left the bridgehead, his figure flashing into a narrow, dark alleyway filled with clutter, disappearing completely into the vast darkness in a few leaps.

The night in Maojiawan was once again dominated by a deep silence and a biting cold. Only the water in the moat's irrigation canal flowed slowly beneath the bridge piers, emitting a monotonous and icy murmur, carrying away all traces.

The following morning, inside the Xisi North Police Station, Liu Jiaxiang sat behind his desk, a pencil between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the open training plan booklet.

Sunlight streamed through the windowpane covered with Korean paper, casting long, slanted patches of light between the still-wet ink lines.

The pencil tip scratched across the paper, making a soft rustling sound, outlining the schedule of patrol team drills and hand-to-hand combat.

The room was silent, save for the faint sound of writing and the distant, indistinct shouts of patrol officers counting off.

Knock knock knock.

The quiet knocking broke the silence inside.

"Come in."

Liu Jiaxiang didn't even raise his head, his voice steady.

The door hinges creaked slightly as patrol officer Zhang Kui pushed the door open and entered.

He closed the door behind him, walked quickly to the desk and stood about three steps away, straightening his back. His brand-new black police uniform accentuated his sharp figure.

His face held the usual respect, his head slightly bowed, his gaze fixed on Liu Jiaxiang's hand holding the pencil.

"Chief,"

Zhang Kui's voice was not loud, but it reached Liu Jiaxiang's ears clearly.

"This morning, a fisherman found a floating body in the moat's irrigation canal within our jurisdiction. The body has been brought back to the station and is currently in the morgue in the backyard. Would you... like to go and take a look?"

Liu Jiaxiang stopped writing with his pencil. He slowly raised his eyelids, his gaze shifting from the paper to Zhang Kui's face, his eyes calm and still, like a deep pool.

Have the deceased's identity and cause of death been confirmed?

His questions were concise and straightforward.

Zhang Kui answered immediately, speaking at a steady pace:

"Chief, his identity has been confirmed. It's that driver, Erqiangzi, who was arrested for gambling a couple of days ago."

"The coroner just finished examining the body. It was determined that the person had fallen into the water while intoxicated, and vomit blocked their throat and trachea, ultimately causing them to suffocate and drown."

"There were no other external injuries or signs of a struggle. The conclusion is accidental death."

After listening, Liu Jiaxiang did not speak immediately.

He put down his pencil, leaned back in the wide chair, and gently placed his hands, fingers interlaced, on his abdomen. His gaze lingered for a moment on Zhang Kui's respectful face, which was tinged with a barely perceptible tension. The corners of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly, forming a very faint, almost imperceptible curve.

"Your efficiency,"

Liu Jiaxiang spoke slowly, his voice low but clear.

"It's very high."

Zhang Kui's heart skipped a beat.

On the surface, the director's words were an apology for the speed of confirming the identity and performing the autopsy, but he understood the deeper meaning beneath that calm tone—it meant that his efficiency in "dealing with" Erqiangzi had exceeded expectations.

A surge of triumph mixed with chill ran down his spine.

He quickly put on a humble smile that also seemed to say "it's only right," and bent his waist even lower.

"Working under your supervision, I dare not slack off; how can I not be efficient?"

Zhang Kui's tone was perfectly flattering and matter-of-fact.

"Chief, do you think... we should go over and take a look? Even just going through the motions would be fine."

Liu Jiaxiang waved his hand decisively, as if shooing away an insignificant fly.

His gaze returned to the training plan booklet on the table.

"What's so interesting about a drowned ghost?"