DF Chapter 8

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

“What counts as suspicious?” Song Yi asked.

“Someone in a hurry.”

“Well, the restroom is over there. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone to rush,” she replied, skilfully deflecting the question.

Officer Lin, realising he was being sidetracked, pressed directly, “Describe anything you saw.”

“The hallway was dimly lit. I glanced over but couldn’t be certain.”

“So, you did see someone?”

“I saw a shadow.” Song Yi had seen a person, but she also noticed their shadow on the wall. Zhen Yi’s advice was clear: downplay and deflect.

“Did you see the person’s face?”

“I don’t think I had any distinct impression of that shadow,” she replied, following Zhen Yi’s coaching on how to deny without outright lying.

The officer didn’t pick up on her subtle evasion.

After a series of questions, Song Yi had revealed nothing of value. She succeeded in leaving the impression Zhen Yi had carefully crafted: detached, morally indifferent, cautious, and unwilling to stir trouble. This made her initial reluctance to cooperate, followed by her appearance with a lawyer, seem reasonable.

But just before concluding, the officer threw in a curveball: “Miss Song, I understand you were intoxicated and your memory is hazy. But perhaps your subconscious retained more than you realise.”

This unexpected question had no pre-prepared answer. Song Yi looked to Zhen Yi for help. Zhen Yi asked, “So?”

“Would Miss Song be willing to cooperate in recovering her subconscious memories?”

Song Yi looked confused. “What does that mean?” As the officer was about to explain, Zhen Yi shot up from her seat. “Absolutely not.”

She hadn’t anticipated that the real challenge today would be Yan Ge.

“Absolutely not,” Zhen Yi repeated firmly.

Officer Lin clarified, “It’s just a conversation with one of our specialists to help strengthen her memory and—”

“You mean hypnosis?” Zhen Yi cut him off sharply. “Using such an unreliable method in a case involving a human life? Who’s to say what emerges from the subconscious is even factual? If you insist on this nonsense, I’ll file a lawsuit.”

Song Yi froze, shocked by the idea of suing the police. She didn’t want to cause more trouble, but Officer Lin dropped the issue.

Hypnosis could sometimes be useful in recovering witness memories, but it wasn’t standardized and had no procedural safeguards. Song Yi’s indifferent attitude made it impossible to convince her voluntarily, and there was no guarantee her subconscious had registered anything useful. The officer had no choice but to back down.

As they left the interrogation room, Si Gui emerged from the observation room next door. Both she and Zhen Yi maintained neutral expressions, giving nothing away. Song Yi, however, relaxed after the intense questioning and greeted her, “Hello.”

Si Gui’s response was cold: “Miss Song, we’d like you to answer those same questions again, but this time with a polygraph.”

“What?” Song Yi’s mood shifted dramatically, and she turned to Zhen Yi, full of resistance.

This time, Zhen Yi didn’t immediately reject the idea. “Why?”

Officer Lin explained, “The surveillance at Ecstasy has blind spots. We conducted a simulation, and it’s true that the footage shows Miss Song heading toward the restroom, but if she had turned into the hallway, the cameras wouldn’t have caught it.”

Song Yi was speechless. After thinking for a moment, Zhen Yi calmly said, “Let me discuss this with my client.”

She pulled Song Yi aside, but this time, Song Yi angrily shook her hand off, dropping her usual polite demeanor. In a low voice, she snapped, “How much am I paying you, Zhen Yi? Don’t forget it’s your job to protect my interests! You were bold enough to argue with the officer earlier. But now, with your friend around, you’re backing off? If you can’t handle this, just say so, and I’ll find another lawyer!”

Zhen Yi remained composed. “Miss Song, do you really have a choice here? This is a criminal case, and you’re a suspect. We’re not in some legal drama where you get to control everything. Whether you like it or not, they’ll do everything in their power to pressure you. You should be thankful they aren’t forcing hypnosis on you simply because it’s difficult to enforce.”

Song Yi, fuming, pulled out her phone. “I’ll use my connections.”

Zhen Yi snorted, “The victim is Lin Ziyi.”

How strong could her connections really be? Song Yi paused, gritting her teeth. “So, the police can’t find the killer and are trying to pin it on me? Where’s their evidence? Shouldn’t you at least see it before treating me like this?”

“Lawyers can only access evidence once formal charges are filed,” Zhen Yi explained. “In the eyes of the law, we’re at a disadvantage.”

“If the polygraph catches something wrong, am I done for?”

“No, the polygraph is just an auxiliary tool. It can’t be used as definitive evidence. Don’t worry. I designed your answers to avoid lies, so the test shouldn’t detect anything.”

“But what if…?”

“Even if the test detects dishonesty, it would only suggest that you’re refusing to describe the suspect’s appearance. The worst that could happen is the police continuing to badger you, and you’ll lose your peace of mind. And remember,” Zhen Yi looked her straight in the eye, “you didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

Song Yi was gradually reassured, taking a deep breath and nodding.

Zhen Yi returned to Si Gui and agreed to the polygraph. Si Gui then turned to the observation room and said, “Professor Yan, we’re ready.”

The title “Professor Yan” caught Zhen Yi off guard. Curious, she peered through the door and caught a glimpse of a tall figure in white. That silhouette was all too familiar. She softly asked Si Gui, “Is that the polygraph examiner?” Si Gui remained silent.

“I’m not asking as a lawyer, and I know he’s probably not,” Zhen Yi continued.

“He’s a research doctor, specialising in physiological data for polygraph tests. Don’t worry, his work is well-supported and very professional. He’s also studied polygraph testing himself. He’s quite talented—someone like you could be a good cop or lawyer, and so could he.”

Zhen Yi’s attention was drawn to the machine in the room—a polygraph device, with a rectangular screen about the size of a microwave displaying bright lines, and blinking indicator lights.

As she got lost in thought, that familiar white figure appeared in her line of sight again.

The door opened, and Yan Ge stood before her. He looked exactly as he had in her memories—his handsome face calm and composed, his aura deep and serene, like a still autumn night.

The difference now was that he wore a thin pair of frameless glasses, giving him a scholarly air, refined and elegant.

The glasses softened his aloof demeanour, making him seem more approachable, though Zhen Yi found it a bit unfamiliar.

When Song Yi saw him, all her nervousness evaporated. Hearing that he was in charge of the polygraph, she immediately became polite and deferential. “Sorry to trouble you,” she said before gracefully walking into the observation room. Zhen Yi was speechless. Of course, it helps to have a good face—makes everything easier. She couldn’t believe how much time she had wasted earlier trying to calm Song Yi down.

As she passed by Yan Ge, she asked, “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

He was flipping through some documents. Hearing her, he turned his head slightly. Behind his thin glasses, his dark eyes were calm as water. He glanced at her for half a second but didn’t respond.

Zhen Yi let out a soft huff. He had already turned back to focus on his papers. There was a natural charm about a man absorbed in his work. Song Yi leaned closer, her eyes full of anxiety. “I’m really nervous. Will my anxiety be seen as lying?” she asked in a sheepish voice.