HTCYH Ch 39

Chapter 39: Face-Slapping (Part One)

After Tu Si handed over his phone, the middle-aged officer began interrogating him as if he were a criminal. The questioning ranged from whether there were any improprieties in Wuming’s behavior, to Wuming’s anomalies inside the game, and finally shifted heavily toward probing the supposed romantic relationship between Tu Si and Wuming.

Tu Si answered each question one by one, recounting his experiences and what he had seen with complete objectivity. He merely described the events as they happened, along with Wuming’s methods of resolution, never adding any personal judgments or conjectures.

During this series of answers, Tu Si could clearly sense the officer’s perfunctory attitude and lack of concern. It was only when the officer brought up rumors about his and Wuming’s romance that Tu Si couldn’t help but frown.

Officer: “What is your relationship with Wuming?”

Tu Si: “An employment partnership.”

Officer: “Do you share a romantic relationship?”

Tu Si: “No.”

Officer: “XXX reported seeing you and Wuming behaving intimately at XXX time. How do you explain this?”

Tu Si: “If Wuming pulled me aside out of the crowd, is that “intimate behavior”?”

Officer: “XX reported that you refused to eat at the Bureau cafeteria and that Wuming personally cooked meals for you. Is this true?”

Tu Si: “…Is refusing to eat in the cafeteria something that warrants disciplinary punishment?”

Officer: “Do not dodge the question! I asked you if this is true.”

Tu Si: “It is not true that I refuse Bureau food. I just ate at the cafeteria this afternoon. As for Wuming cooking, that is also untrue. He simply brought his own food, and, on occasion, prepared an extra portion for me. That doesn’t qualify as running a private kitchen exclusively for me.”

Officer: “Why only for you?”

Tu Si: “Because I wanted to eat.”

Officer: “Wuming has never cooked or brought food for anyone else, but he did for you. And you still claim there’s no romance between you two?”

Tu Si: “Does the Bureau now regulate when colleagues bring each other food? Or is it forbidden for coworkers to have good relations?”

Officer: “Comrade Tu Si! Adjust your attitude! Do not divert the conversation! Answer my question! This is your formal warning! Wuming treats you differently—why?”

Tu Si: “I complimented his cooking; he was pleased and shared with me. What’s the problem with that?”

Officer: “Comrade Tu Si! I demand a straightforward answer! I said Wuming treats you as an exception—why? Why does he only share meals with you? He’s been in the Bureau for years, yet he only brings food for you! Why? Why is it only you who’s tied to rumors of a romance with him? Why?”

Tu Si: “I don’t know. He has treated me this way since I joined the Bureau. If you want to know why he sees me as an exception, perhaps you should ask him. His mouth is his own. And those so-called ‘romance rumors’ weren’t spread by me. Shouldn’t you question the rumor-mongers instead, to see why they thought that way? Between Wuming and me, nothing improper exists. Officer, with this kind of leading question and coercion, what exactly is it you want? Do you require me to fabricate a false testimony?”

The officer sneered: “Heh. Looks like there are a lot of details you’ve yet to recall, Comrade Tu Si. Stay here and think things over carefully. When you remember, you can tell me.”

With that, the middle-aged officer waved his hand, taking the two others with him as they walked out of the office. They left Tu Si inside, under the pretense of letting him “quietly reflect,” but in truth placed two police guards at the door, forbidding Tu Si to leave. It was nothing less than coercive imprisonment disguised as questioning.

His phone confiscated, left unable to call for help, Tu Si sprawled idly on the sofa where the officer had been sitting and began braiding his hair while thinking.

Tu Si had refrained from telling that idiotic officer anything about specifics inside the game. And that idiot officer hadn’t actually tried to investigate events within the game either. Instead, he fixated solely on pressuring Tu Si with fabricated romantic gossip about Wuming. Since the officer’s initial accusation was that Wuming had abused authority to recruit Tu Si, he now seemed intent on proving that Wuming had done so because of a romantic relationship—thus indicting him for abuse of power. Was Wuming blocking someone’s promotion? Or did someone covet Wuming’s resources? From the looks of it, Wuming must be remarkably clean; these bureaucratic parasites had rummaged endlessly yet only managed to dredge up an alleged romance as his “black mark.” And even that required them to coerce Tu Si into willingly producing a false confession.

Tu Si lay there quietly, staring at the ceiling. The confined and silent room was part of the most basic stage of psychological interrogation—used against ordinary civilians. In such an oppressive, sealed environment, people became anxious, restless, and felt time drag endlessly, leading them to want to escape. Without special training, many would quickly try to appease by saying exactly what the interrogators wanted to hear, thus producing a confession. Since no explicit threats nor physical harm were involved, the resulting evidence could be admissible. A few hours in such confinement was enough to extract a testimony, though technically it did not qualify as torture.

Unfortunately for them, such tactics were child’s play to Tu Si. He was a plant, after all—one that could bury itself underground for months, dormant, waiting patiently for the right climate to grow. Even if locked inside a sealed bag, Tu Si could rest peacefully for ten years or more.

He didn’t believe that this blustering officer had either the authority or the guts to imprison him long-term. So, he simply lay back on the sofa and leisurely closed his eyes.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, Tu Si again saw Wuming’s eyes. This time the scene was far clearer: a sea of corpses, severed limbs piled into a ghastly mountain. At the very top of this corpse-mound, Tu Si faced a black cat. Immobilized, he stared into its golden pupils—and reflected within those eyes were none other than Wuming’s own. Eyes only, nothing else. Tu Si felt himself being watched, monitored. And yet, rather than offended, he found himself looking forward to seeing the expression of their owner, silently hoping for rescue.

Noises of a dispute outside jarred him awake. After shaking off the daze, he listened carefully and realized the argument outside was between Xu Jinyan and the middle-aged officer.

Xu Jinyan: “Hah! Sent down from above, were you? Then tell me—who sent you? Who? And now you want to carry out coercive interrogation? Did you file a report? Do you have proper interrogation documents? You harp on regulations—when it suits you! Double standards, is it? You sit in your offices pulling rank all day, and now you dare meddle with the front lines? You even want to forcibly cut game access? Amazing! Oh sure, cut the artery, sever it completely, and see how long your job lasts!”

Officer: “Xu Jinyan! As a public servant, how dare you use such vulgar speech! Is this how your captain educates you? I am handling this according to regulations. Received a report—thus conducting a standard investigation! Your interference is itself misconduct. I can file disciplinary charges against you right now.”

Xu Jinyan: “Fine! Do it—file away! Write me up! Expel the entirety of our Team One while you’re at it! We put our lives on the line collecting intelligence at the front, and we perform our duties faithfully. And yet our captain is subjected to your inhumane round-robin interrogations. Now even an outside consultant has to suffer outright detention and coercion? So this is the ‘privilege’ of being a public officer, huh?”

As Xu Jinyan grew increasingly agitated, verging on reckless wording, Tu Si quickly pushed open the shut office door. Ignoring the token resistance of the two guards outside, he interrupted—half stopping, half questioning: “Hey! What happened? Xu Jinyan? Weren’t you supposed to be out on assignment? Back so soon?”

Seeing Tu Si’s messy cowlick sticking up and the marks of the sofa cushion still imprinted on his face, Xu Jinyan was momentarily at a loss. The sight made exaggerating impossible—he couldn’t, in good conscience, claim this ordinary Tu Si had been grievously mistreated. He glared at him instead, then scolded reproachfully: “Tu Si! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you realize your importance to the Bureau? You’re the only one capable of purifying pollutants! And you—you handed your phone over to this idiot and let them cut your game access?!”

Tu Si caught the subtle signal Xu Jinyan gave him, then beamed with a bright smile and said cheerfully: “Oh! My game access is cut? Great! Now I don’t have to worry about Wuming coercing me into cheap labor anymore. Those games are so dangerous, who’d want to keep playing? Officer, thank you so much! Without you, I’d never have escaped Wuming’s clutches!”

Xu Jinyan, catching on, threw himself into the act as well, pointing at Tu Si and barking: “You! You! You! With such a powerful ability, and you won’t serve the people? Do you even comprehend the lives destroyed by pollutants? Do you understand? With your abilities, why won’t you think of benefiting the public?”

After his outburst, Tu Si lifted his eyes—just in time to see Wuming enter the scene, leading five or six senior officers. Judging by their insignia, even the lowest among them held rank as lieutenant colonel (two stripes, three stars), while the arrogant middle-aged officer bore only a single stripe. Tu Si recognized immediately—this was the perfect time to deliver a face-slapping counterattack.

With a pout, a shrug of his shoulders, and a voice tinged with a sob, he aired his grievances:

“What can I do? What do you want from me? Serve the people? I’ve done that already! I worked as an unpaid consultant for you, never asked for compensation or reward! Even the requests from the player organization I firmly refused!

And now, instead of benefits, I’ve barely scraped through each game—facing death at every turn. When I finally survive, I don’t even get so much as a verbal commendation! Instead, you throw me in detention for four hours of interrogation confinement! This officer comes in accusing me of breaking rules, saying if I refuse to cut game access, I’d be treated as an unlawful member of a player organization. And because I participated in games, I’d be classed as a ‘serious offender’—seven years or even life imprisonment, with fines or confiscation of assets!

I serve the people, but that doesn’t mean I want to go to jail! I handed over my phone! You cut my access! All I did was eat meals Wuming cooked twice—how is that unforgivable? Must I admit to being in a romance before I’m allowed to go home? Fine! I’ll admit it! I like Captain Wuming! I pursued him! I harassed him! I was wrong, okay? I’ll quit being a consultant! I don’t like Wuming anymore! I won’t play the games again! I just want to return to my university and graduate! Please—let me leave, okay?”

At this point, the middle-aged officer—whether from rage or loss of authority—failed to even notice the group of senior commanders standing nearby. He roared at Tu Si:

“Nonsense! What do you mean coercion and threats? We are showing zero tolerance to abuse of power! You being in the game unlawfully is proof of Wuming’s dereliction! And I am simply asking questions—why does Wuming treat you differently? It’s you who refuses to cooperate! And now you dare slander us! I’ll tell you this: your slander of the police will give us grounds to detain you right here!”

A slightly aged yet powerful voice cut through from behind him:

“‘Detain’? And on whose behalf? Yourself? Or us ‘old relics’? Detain who, exactly? I think you are the one who deserves some detention and questioning.”

Wuming, with an easy smile, had entered along with a group of directors and higher-ranking officials. They had quietly watched the farce unfold. When the middle-aged officer blundered into saying “we can detain,” Wuming delivered a killing blow.

Player organization: Within this story, this term refers to underground or unofficial groups who oppose or rival the Game Bureau, often seen by authorities as dangerous or unlawful.