"I'll say it again, I don't know what you're talking about,"
Qin Guan's face paled, but he remained stubborn. His deep confusion kept churning within him. "What 'thing' are you talking about?"
He needed to know. In this game of wits, he was currently at a disadvantage, under pressure. He had to turn the tables. If He Zhi Sheng couldn't name the specific "thing" he was referring to, then it had to be a bluff! That would mean all of this was He Zhi Sheng's scheme!
If he could expose He Zhi Sheng's trick, he could break this deadlock.
Old He stared at Qin Guan, a cold snort escaping his nose. "You stole it from the school chemistry lab. Do I really need to spell it out?"
He still hadn't answered directly.
So, did he truly get the specifics from that ugly girl, or was it just speculation?
Qin Guan swallowed. He could be more forceful. He could righteously strike back.
But, facing Old He's calmness, steadiness, and the frank confidence in his eyes, Qin Guan's own eloquence, the words he could have used to counterattack, seemed to shrink back at the base of his tongue, unable to emerge.
In short, he didn't know this man's real purpose.
Just like the standoff with Xu Ruyi before—being lost in a fog was the most unnerving thing. Because he couldn't see clearly, he couldn't stay calm in this state.
Under the light, a fine layer of sweat had broken out on Qin Guan's forehead.
Old He stared at the sweat, his gaze turning even colder. "I don't just know what you did, I know why you did it,"
"If it was to escape your father's domestic violence, I could understand your actions. Or, taking a step back, if it was for your studies, for your own future, that might be grudgingly accepted. But—"
He suddenly slammed the table hard with his palm. Qin Guan opposite him flinched violently. "That's not why!"
Qin Guan indeed was not.
That year, he was nearly fourteen. Thanks to the nutrition provided by his kind long-term sponsor, he had shot up in height. Though still thin as a rail, at fourteen, he was already taller than his drunkard father.
The drunkard father still drank, and he still flew into rages, but he no longer dared to hit him.
On the contrary, Qin Guan would grab the reeking, drunken man and warn him fiercely: "Go ahead, try hitting me. See if I don't kill you!"
The drunkard father didn't dare try. He was cowed. He was scared.
Perhaps because of the sponsor, or perhaps because he was getting older and realized he might need to rely on this promising son for his old age, his attitude towards Qin Guan had softened considerably.
Seeing his son studying diligently under the lamp, he would pretend to pat his head: "Son, good, good. Study hard!"
When his son did well on exams, he would grin broadly: "Good! Promising! Worthy of being my good son!"
The clothes, supplies, and food sent by the sponsor, he no longer picked through and kept the best for himself like before. Instead, he "generously" sent it all to his son's room.
Even when going out drinking, he sometimes, unprecedentedly, brought home a little packet of peanuts for Qin Guan as a late-night snack.
But no matter how much this man changed, he absolutely was not the "father" Qin Guan wanted.
The father figure Qin Guan admired was someone he saw only twice a semester—a man dressed in fine clothes, wearing scholarly gold-rimmed glasses, a watch on his wrist signifying status, speaking with the cultured elegance that spoke of a privileged background.
That was the person Qin Guan longed to be close to.
Qin Guan dreamed of swapping that man and his drunkard father.
But he knew it was impossible in reality and could only bury this unrealistic hope deep inside.
Until that time.
The sponsor couple came to the school to see him together. As they were leaving, he overheard the elegantly dressed wife whisper to her husband: "Old Xu, don't come so often. We're just sponsors. Coming too much puts pressure on the child. He has a father; he's not an orphan!"
Yes, he wasn't an orphan.
If only he were an orphan… The lady said casually, "If he were an orphan? We could just send him to a boarding school. Then visit him often. No pressure for anyone. The boarding school tuition is expensive, but if there are no parents at home, that's what we'd have to do anyway…"
That day, Qin Guan leaned against the wall, hidden in an unnoticed shadow, and realized clearly for the first time that his hidden wish might actually be achievable.
Only, that useless drunk was the sole obstacle on that path.
"After your father Qin Shigui died, you became an orphan. Naturally, the Xu couple sent you to the best private middle school in the county town—a boarding school. You went home on weekends, but on holidays, long vacations, you were brought here by them!"
"Here! That was your ultimate goal!" Old He's index finger stabbed hard at the table surface, his teeth clenched. "You did it to come here! To step into a better 'home'! You swept away your own biological father like garbage! You! It was all you!"
Sweat beaded more densely on Qin Guan's forehead. His Adam's apple bobbed, his fists clenched, his breathing grew more rapid. But he still gritted his teeth. "Impossible."
"You still think it's impossible because you've spent all these years safely finishing your studies, never caught, never even questioned or investigated. So you've always believed no one discovered what you did!"
Old He sneered. "The fact is, the only reason you escaped accountability back then was because that old officer pitied you! He sympathized with you!"
"He thought you were just a child. What would prosecuting achieve? You were a minor. Rather than ruining your life under public pressure, he chose to guide you to reform and walk the right path! That old policeman, he went to see you quite a few times afterward, didn't he?"
Qin Guan's taut face twitched slightly. Beneath that skin, tension and terror were swelling like air, expanding, seeming ready to burst from his pores.
"Of course, the most important thing was he knew the evidence wasn't sufficient,"
"The residue in the liquor bottle alone wasn't enough. Besides, thefts from your school's chemistry lab weren't a one-time thing, and you weren't the only one,"
"So, this case couldn't touch you then, and it can't touch you now,"
"But," Old He picked up the water cup on the table and took a sip, "if this case were to be made public, the consequences… you understand them better than anyone. And you fear them more than anyone."
Qin Guan swallowed with difficulty.
Yes. He was a professional lawyer. He knew exactly the consequences of this being exposed at this moment—it couldn't convict him legally, but it would ignite a massive public uproar in a very short time.
That storm, for him, for him at this very moment—still entangled in the Qi Min case, desperately needing public support—would be fatal.