SFTD -Chapter 362 White Spots Reappear (Part 3)

Zhou Hai placed the shattered mobile phone into the evidence bag handed over by Fengzi. The phone was already beyond repair and wouldn’t power on; its data would need to be extracted by specialists.

“Send this to Xiao Hu,” he said.

He then knelt on one knee and examined the deceased’s face. Xu Biao rushed over with a camera in hand.

After Zhou Hai finished his inspection, Xu Biao quickly took photos, wearing a flattering smile.

“I was afraid my photos might affect your judgment earlier, so I didn’t dare lift anything for a proper shot. Now it’s good—we can try to trace the victim’s identity.”

Zhou Hai stopped him. “Show the photos to the factory gate guard. I think he might recognize him.”

Xu Biao immediately nodded. Zhou Hai was right—this outfit clearly belonged to someone who worked here.

“I’ll go right now. You guys stay put and wait for me!”

He ran off.

Zhou Hai began searching the deceased’s jacket pockets. In the chest pocket, he found a palm-sized folded piece of paper, wrinkled as if it had been kept there for a long time.

In the lower pockets, one contained a pack of Huanghelou cigarettes and a lighter. The other held a black leather wallet.

Inside were an ID card, bank cards, and cash. Fengzi chuckled from the side.

“Xu Biao’s run was pointless. This info is much more complete.”

Zhou Hai pulled out the ID card. It read:

Dong Bin, male, born April 6, 1982.
His home address was near the factory.

The issuing date was nine months ago. The number was slightly blurred and stained with blood, but the prefix 650107 could still be seen. The rest would need Xu Biao to process later. Clearly, it was an out-of-province number.

Inside the wallet were two credit cards, seven or eight bank cards, and only a little over 200 yuan in cash.

Just then, Xu Biao came running back, out of breath. He had clearly run hard both ways, looking quite proud.

“I found out! The deceased is Dong Bin, 34 years old, living nearby. He was a technician at the factory—apparently very skilled with patents and even won awards.”

He paused.

Because both Fengzi and Zhou Hai were looking at him with calm expressions.

Following their gaze, he saw the wallet and ID in Zhou Hai’s hands. Instantly, his mood collapsed.

He squatted down, gasping for breath, tossing the camera to Zhang Wenqi with a resentful expression.

“You two are really something! If you already found the identity, why didn’t you shout? Do you know how hard it is for a 200-jin guy to run like this?”

Zhou Hai glanced at him and waved at Fengzi.

“Pack it up. We’re heading back.”

Fengzi shot Xu Biao a warning look, telling him not to act stupid. Xu Biao rubbed his nose awkwardly—he had only been trying to shift attention and had acted quite diligently.

He then helped pack up the documents. When he noticed the folded lump of paper, curiosity got the better of him. He opened it.

Immediately, he let out a startled cry.

Hearing the sound, Zhou Hai turned back quickly. Fengzi also moved over. Xu Biao spread the paper flat on the box.

“Zhou Hai… what is this drawing?”

All three looked at it.

Although it was a professional technical blueprint with data annotations, the outline of the object was immediately recognizable.

It was the design drawing of the iron-tube dagger.

Zhou Hai leaned in. In the lower-right corner of the paper was a handwritten date:

January 12, 2014

Next to it were the words “Second Revision.” The edges of the paper were yellowed, and the folds were worn almost to tearing.

Xu Biao rubbed the paper lightly and looked up.

“There are two layers here!”

Indeed, where his fingers pressed, two sheets of paper could be seen separating. But due to moisture damage, they had stuck together tightly, and peeling them apart risked tearing them.

Zhou Hai immediately pressed down on his shoulder.

“Don’t rush to peel it. You’ll damage it. Let’s take it back first and perform the autopsy. We’ll humidify it in the lab—I can separate them.”

Everyone quickly packed up and stood.

Xu Biao instructed the staff to place the body into a body bag, keeping it in its prone position to preserve its original state as much as possible.

Huang Zhongsheng walked over. In the distance, a man in a wheelchair was being pushed toward them.

Zhou Hai paused.

Was this the only remaining factory leader?

He glanced at the thick plaster on the man’s legs—he had clearly been injured recently.

Huang Zhongsheng introduced him:

“This is Fang Jianguo, one of the factory’s shareholders.”

Xu Biao, who had just finished loading the body, ran over.

Zhou Hai asked him to pull up the deceased’s facial photo and handed it to Fang Jianguo.

“Do you recognize him?”

Fang Jianguo leaned in and looked. Although prepared, he was still startled and quickly pushed the camera away, nodding vigorously.

The officer pushing his wheelchair shook it forcefully and barked: “Speak! What are you nodding for?”

Fang Jianguo looked around. Seeing no one stopping the officer, he instantly deflated.

“I recognize him. He’s Dong Bin, a technician in our factory. But he’s a bookworm—quiet, didn’t talk much. He made money off patents. That’s all I know.”

Zhou Hai narrowed his eyes slightly.

Fang Jianguo clearly looked like an old hand—his behavior seemed more like someone trying to reduce suspicion.

“When did you get injured?” Zhou Hai asked.

“August 20th. I was taking my kid to summer classes, missed a step downstairs and fell from the second floor to the first. The doctor said I had severe osteoporosis, so both tibia and fibula were fractured.”

Zhou Hai stepped closer and examined the edge of the plaster. He could sense signs of muscle atrophy through the gap.

He continued, “When did the others go on the trip?”

“Originally August 22nd, but due to the travel agency, it was changed to August 29th.”

Xu Biao interjected, “Such a big factory and you’re all going off on vacation instead of working? Is this because you already heard it’s about to be demolished?”

Fang Jianguo looked awkward. Though embarrassed, he nodded.

“Our boss said the planning officials hinted this area will be finalized this year—possibly by National Day.”

Huang Zhongsheng narrowed his eyes. This man seemed cooperative, but was actually slippery—deflecting everything.

“Was Dong Bin paid by your factory, or did he earn money independently through patents? How was the profit split?”

Fang Jianguo was about to explain vaguely, but Huang Zhongsheng raised his hand to stop him.

“I think you can’t remember clearly here. Xiao Zhan, take him back. Let Da Mao handle him.”

Fang Jianguo panicked immediately, waving his hands.

“That’s not what I meant! Dong Gong did negotiate with our boss, but we do know some details…”

“He was only affiliated with our factory. He provided his own materials. We supplied equipment and electricity free of charge. In return, we took 20% of his patent application and transfer fees.”

“To put it simply, he was renting our factory qualifications.”

Huang Zhongsheng didn’t pause. “Where did Dong Bin work on his prototypes or research?”

Fang Jianguo pointed at the office building.

“The blue-roof workshop behind the office building was his. He even brought two apprentices before, but they seemed to have left to start their own operation. He had a rough time.”

Huang Zhongsheng nodded at Xiao Zhan, who then pushed Fang Jianguo away.

Xu Biao finally relaxed and almost laughed—he thought Fang Jianguo had gotten away with it, but he’d still be interrogated later by Da Mao.

Zhou Hai tapped the laughing Xu Biao.

“You stay. Follow Captain Huang to Dong Bin’s workshop. Don’t miss any drawings or prototypes. And carefully search for any powder residue. Understood?”

Xu Biao immediately became serious.

“Got it. I’ll stay with Zhang Wenqi. Don’t worry—we’ll turn this place upside down.”