After the meeting ended, I said I wanted to see the corpse. Just as Captain Liao was about to respond, Bai Yidao suddenly said, "Captain, let me take these distinguished guests."
"All right!" Captain Liao whispered, "Don't cause trouble!" Though his voice was low, I caught every word.
Bai Yidao, Luo Weiwei, and a few cops led us out of the Criminal Investigation Department. I asked, "Isn't the morgue here?"
"You'll see when you come with me," Bai Yidao replied with a smirk.
We arrived at the parking lot. I thought to myself, there's no way the corpse would be left out in the open, right? Obviously, Bai Yidao was trying to fool us. I wanted to see what game he was playing.
Sure enough, Bai Yidao stopped, turned around arrogantly, and lifted his chin. "I've seen your profiles. I heard one of you was once a top instructor in the Armed Police. I happen to have trained for a few days too. How about a little sparring?"
I sneered. Bai Yidao, a second-generation official brat, was clearly trying to assert dominance. Wang Yuanchao smirked coldly, "Sure."
"Good! Let's warm up a bit. Please go easy on me, Coach Wang." Bai Yidao cracked his neck and wrists with a loud pop, then took a few steps forward and assumed a fighting stance. "After you!"
…
Wang Yuanchao stepped out but made no stance. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Huang Xiaotao warned, "Wang Yuanchao, don't hurt him too badly."
Laughter broke out. A cop said, "Him? Break Bai Ge? Bai's been the sanda champion for three years running."
"Heroes don't boast about past glories," Bai Yidao chuckled, "Coach Wang, prepare to witness a show!"
Like a tiger, Bai Yidao lunged, throwing a punch straight at Wang's face. Wang was still looking down lighting his cigarette — a sneak attack? That was sneaky.
Wang Dali shouted, "Watch out!"
Wang Yuanchao didn't even raise his head, easily dodging the punch and shoulder-checking Bai Yidao. Bai staggered back several steps, nearly falling if not for support. He looked utterly embarrassed.
Cheers erupted from our side. Wang Yuanchao's fighting skills were on a whole different level — he was utterly dominating Bai Yidao.
"Yidao!" Luo Weiwei shouted worriedly. Suddenly I realized—they were a pair. No wonder they shared the same arrogant temperament.
I know nothing about martial arts, but having read wuxia novels, Wang Yuanchao's move was clearly an "Iron Mountain Lean." After knocking Bai down, he leisurely took a drag from his cigarette, acting as if nothing happened.
Bai Yidao angrily threw off his jacket, revealing a muscular body, and unleashed a whip-like kick aimed at Wang's head. That move was vicious—a killer technique right from the start.
Wang stepped back casually, letting the kick pass by.
Bai Yidao's front foot landed, the back followed swiftly, driving a strike at Wang's chest. Wang sidestepped again, inhaled deeply, flicked away the cigarette, and got into stance.
The fight turned fast and furious. Though I'm no expert, I could tell Bai's punches were always blocked or countered by Wang striking his arms and legs, rendering his attacks useless.
One leapt and struck, the other stayed calm and precise—like a master teaching a student.
Even the cops stopped their noisy cheering, realizing Bai was utterly overwhelmed and had no chance to fight back.
Only our side continued to cheer.
Later Wang told me he was using Jeet Kune Do, Bruce Lee's martial art. The name sounds cool but many don't know its meaning: "Jeet" means interception—hitting the opponent's joints before they can even throw a punch. It's an offense that serves as defense.
Bai Yidao used military-style combat, but Wang Yuanchao, a top Armed Police instructor, was more than familiar with it. Bai was just showing off in front of a master.
Whenever Bai moved, Wang instantly knew his next move and effortlessly countered.
Wang deliberately used Jeet Kune Do to teach Bai a lesson after Bai bullied me.
Jeet Kune Do's superiority over military combat led to its predecessor, Wing Chun, being banned in the '70s and '80s.
By the end, Bai was gasping for breath, exhausted. Wang remained calm and composed.
Suddenly, their fists collided mid-air with a resounding crack!
Bai shrank back, desperately shaking his wrist, covered in shoe prints. Wang hadn't even had his clothes touched once.
"Damn, this is insane!" Wang Dali exclaimed. "Uncle Wang is like the Leopard Head Lin Chong!"
Wang smiled and turned to leave, but Bai suddenly charged from behind—sneaky again!
"Watch behind you!" I shouted.
Bai's eyes turned red as he jumped to strangle Wang from behind.
Wang delivered a spinning kick, sending Bai flying over a meter, landing hard on his backside. I swear I heard it crack.
Cops rushed over. Bai sat on the ground, unable to get up, shouting, "You all hurt me! I'll tell my dad! You'll regret this!"
Wang Yuanchao shrugged lazily and lit a cigarette.
"Are you a kindergartener?" Wang Dali said mockingly. "Getting beaten then calling your dad? Your dad isn't here, want me to be your stand-in? I can do it."
"You little brat, I'll kill you!" Bai shouted, standing up and gesturing to the others. "You saw them hit me, Weiwei, right?"
The cops hesitated but nodded. I thought these guys were really pushing it.
Feeling triumphant, Bai straightened his collar and said smugly, "Wait and see. I don't care if you're sent by the bureau chief or the minister—you'll pay!"
I sneered, "You're a cop, but witness testimony can't be trusted. Evidence is what really counts."
I pulled out my phone and played back Bai's taunts word for word. A lesson I learned from Forensic Qin: when dealing with scoundrels like this, solid evidence beats everything.