"Xiao Li, prepare an interrogation room, quickly," Li Weiguo ordered. The clerk called Xiao Li, who had been dozing off, immediately sprang into action. Her eyes popped open at the sight of the young man who walked in after him, her mouth agape in astonishment, almost drooling. Heavens, was she dreaming? How could there be a man this handsome? Snapping back to reality under Li Weiguo’s increasingly icy stare, she hurried off to prepare. Yan Song’s gaze swept around the hall before finding a row of chairs to sit down. He pulled up the fallen clothing to perfectly cover Yun Ya’s head. Yun Ya didn’t plan on showing her face tonight; snuggled in Brother Yan’s embrace made her feel incredibly happy, as if he could shield her from any storm that came their way. "Tired?" Yan Song asked in a low voice. Yun Ya sniffled, "A little." As she spoke, she rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, lazy and coquettish like a kitten. "Then sleep for a while, don’t worry, I’ll handle everything." Yun Ya pouted, "Brother Yan, aren’t you tired?" Tired, of course he was tired, several days and nights without sleep, rushing back non-stop, not resting for a day, now his brain felt foggy, but he couldn’t sleep, he had to resolve this matter. Yan Song smiled with a curl of his lips, "Not tired." "Alright, I really can’t keep my eyes open; Brother Yan, I’ll take a nap." Her voice faded, followed by the sound of her shallow breathing. Yan Song looked down at Yun Ya, who was sleeping in his arms like a little kitten, and shook his head with a smile. Soon, two police officers entered the hall, leading both Jin Hu, who operated the stand, and a group of hooligans, crowding the place suddenly. A few police officers were taking statements from a group and Jin Hu in another corner of the hall—an overwhelming number of people, one could imagine how noisy it was. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novelFɪre.net Yan Song took out a pair of earphones and put them in Yun Ya’s ears to block out the noise; Yun Ya shifted slightly and smacked her lips, falling into an even deeper sleep. Perhaps the embrace was too warm, too comforting; even amidst the noisy surroundings, Yun Ya slept more sweetly than ever before. Jin Hu’s cold gaze swept over, wishing he could pounce on Yan Song and tear him apart. Yan Song didn’t even glance at him, as if the man was no different from the air in his eyes. This blatant disregard made Jin Hu grit his teeth with rage, ’You’ll see what’s coming to you soon.’ The old man trembled with a sorrowful look and a sense of disillusionment with society. Soon, Li Weiguo walked out and said to two junior officers, "Bring the person in." The young police officers approached Yan Song with trepidation. The young man seemed very young, yet inexplicably, he carried an aura that made him seem even more daunting than the usually domineering Li Weiguo. No, Li Weiguo was not on the same level as him. Yan Song curled his lip slightly, reclined calmly in his chair, and said indifferently, "Call your chief out." Li Weiguo let out a cold laugh, "Quite the attitude. Our chief is busy, has no time to personally interrogate a criminal. Stop with the tricks now or I’ll let you taste the methods our police station uses on criminals." "Oh? Does your police station have its own torture chamber? That’s breaking the law knowingly," Yan Song raised his eyebrows and asked. Li Weiguo was sure the young man was just feigning calm, and snorted coldly, "Here, I am the law. You’re suspected of provoking trouble, assaulting a police officer, and insulting the people’s police. These charges are enough for you. Since you refuse to drink a toast, don’t blame me for being unkind." "I’m not acknowledging any charges you’ve pinned on me," Yan Song said sarcastically, lifting his chin towards the female officer, "What’s your chief’s number?" The female officer, on the spot, nearly screamed out, then Li Weiguo gave her a chilling look, and she swallowed hard. As much as she was faced with a handsome man, nothing was more important than her livelihood. "I’d advise you to stop playing games, or I will make your death a very ugly one." "Are you threatening me?" Yan Song asked while pulling out his phone, exiting the recording app, opening the contacts, and dialing Su Jun’s number. In the middle of the night, Su Jun’s voice was groggy and laced with annoyance from being woken up: "Damn it, which bastard is disturbing my sleep at this hour..." Who would expect the usually gentile and elegant Su Jun to curse like that. "It’s me," Yan Song spoke in a deep voice. "Who?" Su Jun’s sleepiness vanished in an instant; he flipped out of bed, checked the caller ID, and it wasn’t a dream—it was Yan Song’s number. "Damn, where have you been hiding, boy? Even remembering to call me."