The crackdown on organized crime began with the arrest of the mother-in-law.

Chapter 1240 Escorting Zhou Zhiqiang to Identify the Scene

“I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lied to Li Baoren, and I shouldn’t have killed him.” After signing the papers, Zhou Zhiqiang suddenly bowed deeply to the interrogation table. “I’m sorry to him and his family. I’m willing to accept the punishment of the law. I just ask for a chance to atone for my sins.”

As he stepped out of the interrogation room, dawn was breaking, and the morning light streamed through the corridor windows, casting a golden glow on the cold walls. Looking at the interrogation transcript in his hand, every page marked "consistent with evidence," Xiao Zhou knew that this interrogation had not only revealed the complete truth of the case but also irrefutably proven Zhou Zhiqiang's crimes. He took out his phone and sent a message to Li Ming: "Zhou Zhiqiang has fully confessed to the entire process of murder, burying the body, and fleeing. The chain of evidence is complete; the case can be transferred to the procuratorate for prosecution."

Soon, Li Ming replied: "Thank you for your hard work. Justice will not be absent. I will arrange for someone to inform Li Baoren's family of the situation so that they can rest assured."

At the end of the corridor, technicians were organizing and filing Zhou Zhiqiang's confession along with other evidence. The crimes that had once been hidden in the cornfield had now become witnesses to justice. Xiao Zhou recalled Wang Shufen's anxious gaze during his visit to Lijiazhuang, and her weeping when the DNA comparison results came back. He finally breathed a sigh of relief—this tragedy, triggered by a mere 3000 yuan in wages, had finally come to an end with the murderer's confession, and Li Baoren's spirit could finally rest in peace.

In the courtyard of the Criminal Investigation Division, the police lights were off, and the chirping of early birds could be heard in the distance. Xiao Zhou stretched, looking at the gradually brightening sky, understanding that solving every case was a consolation to the deceased and a testament to the upholding of the law. And Zhou Zhiqiang would ultimately pay the price for his greed and impulsiveness, spending the rest of his life in prison to atone for his crimes.

At 8 a.m. on August 30, the autumn sun, having shed its summer heat, shone on the cornfields of Lijiazhuang, gilding the verdant corn leaves with a golden edge. Three police cars pulled up beside the field ridges. After the flashing lights went out, two officers helped Zhou Zhiqiang, who was handcuffed and shackled, out of the cars. He wore a gray prison uniform, his hair simply combed, yet the weariness and fear in his eyes were still undeniable. From the moment he was escorted out of the detention center, he kept his head down, his gaze fixed on the ground, as if he couldn't bear to face the land where Li Baoren's body was buried.

"Identification begins, the entire process will be recorded." Xiao Zhou, holding a body camera, stood beside the yellow police tape; his voice was exceptionally clear in the open field. The officer released Zhou Zhiqiang's restraints, leaving only the handcuffs on, and guided him a meter in front of him. Zhou Zhiqiang's legs trembled slightly; with each step, the clatter of the shackles against the ground was particularly jarring. He was forced to stop only when led to a furrow in the middle of the cornfield, his eyes darting away, unable to look at the soil where the body had been buried.

"Around 8 PM on August 12th, you met Li Baoren here?" Xiao Zhou pointed to the open space east of the ridge, the body camera lens locked onto Zhou Zhiqiang's movements. His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse and almost inaudible: "Yes... I drove my tricycle over from that side road, parked it by the cornfield, and waited for him here." He raised his hand and pointed to the country road west of the field ridge, the location where the longitudinal treads of the tricycle tires had been found during the initial investigation.

Technicians immediately began verifying the location Zhou Zhiqiang had indicated as the "parking spot." A beam of light from a footprint lamp swept across the ground and quickly discovered half a size 43 leather shoe print in the soil. "The stride length is 85 centimeters, the stride width is 20 centimeters, and the stride angle is 5 degrees outward, perfectly matching the characteristics of the shoe prints previously extracted near the burial site," the technicians measured with a ruler close to the ground. "The cornfield soil clinging to the edge of the shoe print matches the composition of the soil at the burial site, confirming that it was left by Zhou Zhiqiang while he was waiting."

"What happened after Li Baoren arrived?" Xiao Zhou continued to press, the camera panning to the open space north of the ditch—the very place the forensic doctor had identified as the primary crime scene. Zhou Zhiqiang's breathing quickened, his hands clenching involuntarily, his knuckles turning white from the force, as if he were back in that chaotic night: "He arrived around 8:10, riding a bicycle. When he saw me, he asked, 'Where's the construction site?' I didn't dare tell the truth, so I just played along. When he saw I wasn't answering, he got impatient and said, 'You have to pay back the 3000 yuan you owe me today, or I'll go to your house and ask your mother for it.'"

He pointed to a mark on the ground, his voice trembling: "I was afraid he would really go to my mother, so I argued with him. He pushed me, and I got angry too, so I grabbed a shovel from the back of the tricycle and hit him on the head. He fell right there, bleeding from his head. I squatted down to look, thinking he had just passed out." Zhou Zhiqiang's description perfectly matched the autopsy results of forensic doctor Zhang Lin—Li Baoren had a 2x2cm subcutaneous hematoma on his right forehead and a slight depression in his skull, which were injuries sustained before his death from a blunt force shovel strike.

Technicians sprayed luminol on the ground at the "hit site" identified by Zhou Zhiqiang, and the pale blue bloodstains clearly showed up: "The bloodstains are dripping, which is consistent with the characteristics of bleeding from a head injury. The DNA of the bloodstains matches Li Baoren's DNA perfectly, confirming this as the primary crime scene."

"What did you do with him after that?" Xiao Zhou's voice remained calm, yet carried an undeniable force. Zhou Zhiqiang's head drooped even lower, his voice choked with emotion: "I was afraid of being discovered, so I wanted to drag him deep into the cornfield and bury him. I grabbed his arm and dragged him from here to there, into the furrow—his coat was torn by the corn stalks, and there was a hole in his left breast pocket, with black fibers scattered along the way." He pointed to the drag marks in the furrow, which perfectly matched the "black fibers" and "crushing marks" that Xiao Yang had found on the corn plant leaves earlier.

Technicians extracted black cotton fibers again along the towing route: "The fiber composition is completely consistent with the fibers in Li Baoren's jacket and the fibers in Zhou Zhiqiang's tricycle bed, and the soil on the fibers is consistent with the composition of the soil in the cornfield, confirming that it was shed during the towing process."

"Was this the shovel you used when you sold the body?" Xiao Zhou took out a photo of the shovel found in Zhou Zhiqiang's house and handed it to him. Zhou Zhiqiang's body visibly trembled when he saw the photo, and tears instantly welled up in his eyes: "Yes... this is it. I dug a half-meter-deep hole in the furrow, buried him face down in it, then filled the hole with soil and stomped on it several times, thinking no one would find it." He pointed to the soil where the body was buried, "I even smoked a cigarette next to it at the time, and threw the cigarette butt in the grass over there, the 'Hongtashan' cigarette butt you found."