Chapter 81: Interrogating the Pipe (II)
With a single word—“done”—the atmosphere in the room froze, leaving the other two utterly dumbfounded.
In the interrogation chamber, the air seemed to solidify.
Su Qingzhu’s cold, beautiful eyes were filled with confusion and irritation.
Across from her, the man known as Pipe for the first time showed a grave expression.
Chen Yu paid no mind to their sharply contrasting reactions. With his head lowered, he tapped the screen again, as if sending a message to some secret paramour.
“Ding-dong!”
The crisp notification sound rang out in the silent interrogation room.
This time, it was Su Qingzhu’s phone.
She instinctively glanced down, and the screen lit up with a new message from Chen Yu.
A location address.
Following the address was a terse yet audacious line: “Go to this spot, dig three feet down for a surprise.”
Su Qingzhu’s brows knit together.
What was this?
An order?
A tease?
She lifted her gaze, questioning Chen Yu with her eyes.
Chen Yu dared not meet her look, merely mouthing two words into the air.
Trust me.
That insufferably cocky demeanor made Su Qingzhu’s molars ache with frustration.
She genuinely wanted to drive her stiletto heel hard into his foot.
But...
Her mind flashed through his string of uncanny maneuvers since his ‘resurrection,’ and the meaningful glance her mentor Yan Zheng had given her.
Su Qingzhu drew a deep breath to suppress the turbulent emotions swirling within, and finally picked up her phone, dialing a number.
“Hello, send a team to a location—I’ll text you the address. Yes, search thoroughly, report any findings immediately.”
She hung up and placed her phone gently on the table with a soft click.
Then her sharp gaze locked onto Chen Yu again, her voice edged with ice.
“Now, will you talk?”
“What’s all this mystery—what exactly have you ‘done’?”
“No need to rush, Officer Su,”
Chen Yu finally lifted his eyes from the phone, flashing her a radiant, infuriating smile.
Then he turned to Pipe.
“Pipe—real name Shen Tao, thirty-nine, born and raised in River City.”
Chen Yu spoke unhurriedly, as if introducing an old friend.
“Currently, he’s a senior second-year teacher at River City’s First High School…”
He deliberately drew out the words.
“…chemistry teacher!”
The last four words were pronounced with slow, deliberate emphasis, as if unveiling a secret.
“Hmph!”
Shen Tao snorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Playing tricks.”
He spoke, still composed.
“All that information is in your system—probably any intern could easily pull it up. Isn’t that a bit childish for Consultant Chen to open with?”
“Mmm, yes, you’re quite right,”
Chen Yu nodded solemnly, then shifted gears, the smile on his lips turning chilly.
“Well then, Teacher Shen, as a seasoned chemistry educator, I’d like to ask you a professional question.”
He picked up his phone again, squinting at the screen as if deciphering an obscure character, and stammered out:
“Isopropyl… methyl… phosphonate… fluoride?”
He stumbled awkwardly over the chemical name.
Yet, that fragmented term struck Pipe like a heavy blow, smashing into his chest.
He froze.
Utterly unprepared, he froze.
---
His face drained of color in less than a second, and for the first time, his deep-set eyes revealed shock and menace he couldn’t conceal.
He stared at Chen Yu as though confronting a sworn enemy.
Su Qingzhu, though unfamiliar with the convoluted term, was no fool.
Just by observing Shen Tao’s fierce reaction, she knew Chen Yu had played a trump card!
A card that could kill.
Sharp as ever, she quickly glanced at Chen Yu’s phone screen out of the corner of her eye.
On the green chat interface, the sender’s nickname was clear: Bubble Girl.
Her?
A strange feeling flickered in Su Qingzhu’s heart—so fleeting she didn’t even notice it herself.
Chen Yu did not press further; he seemed to savor the moment.
He even had the leisure to send a “mua” emoji to Bubble Girl.
He leaned back in his chair, arms folded, watching with satisfaction as the elite teacher’s psychological defenses crumbled before him.
All that remained in the interrogation room was Shen Tao’s increasingly ragged breathing.
After half a minute, he forced out a word through clenched teeth.
“Sarin… gas!”
“Wow!”
Chen Yu clapped exaggeratedly, his face alight with admiration.
“Teacher Shen, you truly are a professional! Impressive! I can barely pronounce that name myself.”
“Back in high school, if my chemistry grades had been half as good as yours, I could…”
He suddenly stopped mid-sentence. His smile, warm as spring a moment ago, turned into a Siberian chill.
His gaze sharpened, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone.
“…I could have killed someone, quietly and without a trace!”
“What are you implying?” Shen Tao snapped, sternly.
“Nothing at all,”
Chen Yu resumed his nonchalant air, shrugging lazily.
“It’s just that a friend of mine happened to hack into the backend of a chemical reagent sales site—and quite by accident, found a recent purchase list.”
“Even more unfortunate, the recipient was you, Teacher Shen.”
“And on that list was the very compound we mentioned… So, Teacher Shen, what was your purpose in buying it?”
He asked with a cheerful smile.
“Are you teaching your students how to make weapons of mass destruction?”
“Nonsense!”
Shen Tao responded instantly, finding an apparently airtight excuse.
“The school lab’s equipment and chemical supplies are always my responsibility! If there are legitimate channels, I follow proper procedures to buy them—what’s the problem? Ask our principal if you don’t believe me!”
“Hmm! Makes sense!”
Chen Yu nodded, looking as though he’d seen the light.
Then, without warning, he threw out another bizarre question.
“Well, let’s leave that aside. Teacher Shen, may I ask a personal question? How is your wife’s health lately?”
That sudden, unrelated query shattered Shen Tao’s composure once more.
“What are you trying to do—asking random questions? Does this relate to Brother Lei’s case?”
He nearly growled, veins bulging on his forehead.
Chen Yu smiled at him.
He knew the fish was completely off balance.
The time was right.
“Teacher Shen, don’t get agitated—you’re so quick to lose patience.”
Chen Yu slowly stood, towering over Shen Tao, his smile replaced by a cruel, cat-and-mouse intensity.
“Since you don’t want to circle around, I won’t play games either.”
“I had some free time and asked that friend to check something else. For example, the obstetrics records at River City Central Hospital, fifteen years ago.”
“I found a rather interesting prenatal exam report.”
His voice was light, but piercing.
“The report shows your wife was ten weeks pregnant at the time.”
---
“But strangely, I searched every hospital record in River City and found no further prenatal exams for her.”
He paused, tilting his head and asking innocently,
“Why is that?”
Shen Tao’s lips trembled, his eyes darting away. “…She didn’t get checked again.”
“Oh?”
Chen Yu drew out the syllable, pressing the attack.
“What about birth records? There’s no child registered in your household file. Did she miscarry? Where’s the miscarriage record? There should be one, shouldn’t there?”
“These are my private matters! None of your business! None of the case’s business!” Shen Tao roared like a wild beast.
“How could it be irrelevant?”
Chen Yu sneered.
“This is your motive!”
He leaned in, whispering so that only the two could hear:
“Fifteen years…”
“Teacher Shen, tell me…”
“Your wife…”
“Is she truly…”
“…still ‘alive’?”
A sharp metallic crash exploded in the room!
Shen Tao’s knee slammed hard into the metal table leg.
He jerked his head up, eyes bloodshot.
“You’re talking nonsense! My wife is alive and well!”
“That’s right!”
Su Qingzhu, who had been silent, finally interjected, “According to the records, Shen Tao’s wife has no report of disappearance or death!”
Chen Yu turned to look at her.
The usually sharp-minded beauty now seemed somewhat innocent and naive.
He found it a bit amusing.
Then he looked back at the frenzied Shen Tao and delivered a line that made the room’s temperature plummet to freezing.
“A top chemistry teacher, wanting to keep someone who’s been dead for fifteen years ‘alive’—at least in the records…”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”
“Chen—Yu—!”
Shen Tao finally snapped.
He sprang up from his chair, but the handcuffs held him fast. All he could do was glare venomously, shrieking:
“This is slander! I’ll sue you! I’ll sue you till you rot in jail!”
“Haha…hahahaha!”
Chen Yu only laughed.
“Evidence? Of course I have it.”
“The simplest way to prove someone is alive is to have them show up in person.”
“But you’d claim she’s traveling, on a business trip, visiting her family… I’ve heard enough of those lies today!”
His laughter abruptly stopped, his gaze sharp as a blade.
“So, I’ll give you evidence you can never refute!”
Just as the tension reached its peak—
“Ring-ring-ring—”
Su Qingzhu’s phone rang again.
This time, she didn’t immediately answer, but looked up at Chen Yu.
He gave her a confident smile.
Then, raising his voice, he commanded:
“Answer it!”
“Put it on speaker!”