After sending off the two cops from the municipal bureau, Zheng Dazhi's face darkened, "Chief, what's going on here?"
Cheng Gong's expression turned sour as he glanced at the sky and sighed, "Looks like a storm is brewing."
...
Leaving the police station, the two officers from the municipal bureau didn't actually go to visit any old leaders or tidy up the case. Instead, they drove straight to Erwanzi Street. Judging by their familiarity, it seemed they already knew where He Biandan lived.
The black Volkswagen came to a smooth stop at the entrance. The dilapidated wooden door had several holes exposed by the rotting wood, and two faded Door Gods fluttered in the cold wind, tattered and torn.
"Do you believe a murderer could come from such an environment?" asked the old cop.
"I'm not a cop; I don't understand these things," the young officer replied with a stern face. Judging by his expression, he seemed to be the boss, while the old cop beside him seemed like a lackey.
