Chapter Forty-One: Sensation

“What are you doing, are you assaulting an officer?” The slightly overweight policeman beside him changed expression, reaching for his gun and ordering Zhang Ye to let go.

“Don’t touch the gun. I hate having guns pointed at me.” Zhang Ye smiled, then looked at Li Tao, who was kneeling on the ground, released his grip, and said in a calm voice, “I already told you—some things, when you cross the line, will end up hurting you. Next time you try something against me, I can’t promise you’ll still be able to use that hand.”

With that, Zhang Ye ignored the shocked policeman and the still wailing Li Tao, walking straight into the interrogation room.

The room was dimly lit. A single table, three chairs—one slightly lower, made of iron and bolted to the floor, stained white from frequent use on suspects. The other two were simple-backed chairs on the opposite side of the table.

When Zhang Ye was framed by Guan Haiyang, he’d spent plenty of time in the station and knew the interrogation tricks. He sat alone in the iron chair, crossed his legs, and waited quietly.

After a while, the overweight policeman didn’t come in. Instead, Li Tao and a short, battered young man entered. The door slammed with a bang, and the young man flashed a sinister smile.

Zhang Ye sat motionless, legs crossed, eyes slanted toward them. This young man was clearly the so-called son of Director Du—Young Master Du.

“Well, well, isn’t this the guy we just met? One against four—you were really impressive just now!” The familiar and unpleasant voice made Zhang Ye sneer softly. As expected, it was that fellow; he hadn’t expected him to be the son of a bureau director, swaggering even here in the police station.

Du Feng strutted over, looked at Zhang Ye, then noticed his crossed legs and his face changed. He snorted, “You’re pretty relaxed, aren’t you?”

His expression hardened. Without warning, he kicked toward Zhang Ye’s right leg.

Zhang Ye raised an eyebrow, his lips curling in derision. He lifted his right leg gently—swift as lightning—then settled it back atop his left leg, still looking relaxed.

On the other side, Du Feng cried out miserably, clutching his leg and hopping in place with urgent groans.

When it came to hand-to-hand skills, Zhang Ye might not be much, but his legs—trained over eight years in his previous life—were astonishingly fast and artful. He’d inherited his master’s true teachings; though it was external kung fu, its power was formidable.

What made that kick so effective was that Zhang Ye’s toe had struck precisely at Du Feng’s acupoint. Everyone knows that when you accidentally hit your elbow or heel, you feel numbness that lasts a while. Zhang Ye’s kick landed exactly on the acupoint at Du Feng’s heel.

This was one of the essentials of leg technique: strength and speed are only part of it; achieving maximum effect with minimal force is what years of Zhang-style leg training teach.

“Still arrogant here, do you really think the police station is your playground?” On the other side, Li Tao, holding a baton, saw Du Feng get kicked and, eager to curry favor, ignored Zhang Ye’s previous warning and swung the baton straight for Zhang Ye’s head.

As Li Tao had come in already injured, adding another wound or two wouldn’t matter.

Crack!

The baton struck loudly—landing on Zhang Ye’s hand. Ignoring the pain, Zhang Ye followed the baton up, grasped Li Tao’s wrist, and twisted sharply.

A sickening crunch. This time, Li Tao’s hand was completely broken.

Li Tao’s face changed dramatically, and a scream burst from him. His already swollen face twisted in agony, his body shaking from the pain.

Zhang Ye slowly released his hand, coldly snorting, “I told you not to try anything against me. Now I can say—your hand is useless.”

Li Tao whimpered, fear overwhelming him. What had started as an ordinary brawl escalated because he wanted to ingratiate himself with Director Du’s son, Du Tao. He’d handled such cases many times before—usually the other party ended up unlucky, paying damages or getting beaten and locked up. It used to be Chief Zhao’s job, but since Zhao’s promotion, Li Tao thought it was his chance. He hadn’t expected his first attempt at currying favor would cross paths with someone as tough as Zhang Ye. Now, with his hand ruined, his heart was filled with sorrow.

The commotion in the interrogation room drew attention. A round-bellied, greasy-faced middle-aged man strode in, kicking the door open with a bang. He straightened up, glanced around, and his expression changed. He pointed at Zhang Ye and shouted, “What are you doing? How dare you assault someone?”

“Chief Zhao, get the electric dog on him—damn it, he nearly killed me!” Du Feng, having recovered, saw his old fixer Chief Zhao and wasted no time giving orders.

“Electric dog?” Chief Zhao’s fat face quivered, but recalling Du Feng’s status, he quickly agreed.

“Auntie, I’ve been brought to the police station!” As soon as the call connected, Guo Xiangqing’s tearful voice came through. Yuan Yuqing’s expression changed instantly, eyes wide, ignoring the ongoing meeting as she asked, “What happened?”

In just two or three minutes, she understood the situation: Zhang Ye and his neighbor had been arrested, Guo Xiangqing had been slapped, and Zhang Ye might face unfair treatment. The gentle expression vanished from Yuan Yuqing’s face, replaced by fury. She said angrily, “Fine, very good. Xiangqing, don’t worry. I want to see who gave them the power to abuse their authority.”

She hung up and, without a word, rushed out of the meeting room toward the police station.

On the way, she flagged down a taxi and pulled out her phone again, dialing directly to the county party secretary, Guo Haijun. “Your daughter’s been brought to the public security bureau and slapped. Handle it.” With that, she hung up and urged the driver to hurry.

Guo Haijun’s stern face grew dark. He’d never laid a hand on his daughter—how could someone else have slapped her? And now she’d been taken to the station? Thinking of the injustice she might suffer, Guo Haijun immediately called the police chief, Ye Qidong. “This is Guo Haijun. I have something to ask…”

After hanging up, Guo Haijun didn’t bother telling his wife anything, grabbed his bag, and hurried out, brows furrowed in worry.

A single phone call mobilized three heavyweight leaders in Lihua County. The incident caused an uproar.