Attack and defense

The interrogation room was still the same, with a stainless steel table, cold walls, and a pale light overhead that illuminated every subtle expression on a person's face. But today, besides the stern-faced Captain Li and the recorder, there was another person sitting opposite Qin Ming.

A man around fifty years old, dressed in an ordinary jacket, with meticulously combed hair, a lean face, and unusually gentle and calm eyes, introduced himself as surnamed Chen, from the provincial government.

Without any aggressive demeanor or deliberately created sense of oppression, he simply sat there quietly, like a Scholar preparing for an in-depth conversation with his students.

However, the subtle respect that Captain Li showed him made Qin Ming realize that this person was by no means simple.

Qin Ming lowered his head, his hands resting on his knees, his fingers unconsciously twisting together. The torment of the past few days had left him emaciated, his eyes sunken, and his complexion an unhealthy sallow.

He was determined to remain silent no matter what the other party asked, or to respond with the simplest "I don't know" or "I'm not sure." He was still waiting, waiting for that signal to bring a possible turning point, or rather, waiting for an outcome that was clearer than the current interrogation.

Expert Chen did not rush to ask questions. He first slowly and methodically tidied the blank notebook in front of him, then picked up the thermos on the table, gently blew on it, and took a sip of tea. His whole movement was calm and unhurried, as if this was not a smoke-filled interrogation room, but his study.

"Doctor Qin," he finally spoke, his voice low but strangely reassuring and magnetic, yet each word clear, "You haven't been getting enough rest these past few days in the detention center, have you?"

It was a very ordinary greeting, even tinged with concern. Qin Ming's body tensed almost imperceptibly, but he didn't reply.

Expert Chen remained unperturbed, his gaze calmly fixed on Qin Ming, as if examining a precision instrument. "We've investigated your background. A graduate of a top medical university, with the title of associate chief physician, and having published several insightful papers in the field of cardiothoracic surgery. Reaching this point hasn't been easy."

He spoke as if he were having a casual conversation, his tone calm and without a trace of sarcasm.

"I heard your daughter just started junior high this year, and she's doing very well academically, even winning an award in a city-wide math competition. Your husband, to avoid affecting her, has temporarily sent her to her maternal grandparents' house." Expert Chen sighed softly, a genuine regret in his voice. "Children at this age are extremely sensitive. What happened to her father will definitely have a significant impact on her."

Qin Ming lowered his head even further, his knuckles turning white from the force of his intertwined fingers. Family had always been the softest, yet most untouchable corner of his heart.

Expert Chen's tone remained calm and non-aggressive, but he subtly shifted to the core issue. "Ankang Hospital's operating model is quite unique. We've noticed that, in departments like yours, the usage of high-value consumables and specific drugs has consistently deviated from the curve of normal medical demand. Behind this, there must be a unique... incentive mechanism."

He didn't use terms like "kickbacks" or "dirty money," but instead used the relatively neutral term "incentive mechanism."

"Zhao Cheng," Expert Chen suddenly uttered a name, his tone unchanged, as if stating a given fact, "Your brother-in-law. His account has received over 2.3 million yuan in the past three years, all from shell companies with no actual operations. Coincidentally, the timing of these funds inflows often highly overlaps with the implementation of some extremely expensive surgeries or treatments in your department."

Qin Ming's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained expressionless.

"We consulted financial experts," Expert Chen continued in his calm, narrative tone, "This method of transferring funds through related parties and shell companies, while covert, actually has many flaws when faced with tracking the flow of funds and analyzing connections. It's like a seemingly complex underground river; once you find a few key springs, the entire network becomes clear."

He didn't question "Did you take the money?" or press him on "What is your relationship with Zhao Cheng?" He was simply stating what he considered a logical chain of "facts." This certainty was more oppressive than any harsh rebuke.

"We've also had a preliminary discussion with the experts on the Medical Malpractice Appraisal Committee," said Expert Chen, taking another sip of water as if discussing a trivial matter. "They are very interested in Hou Xiaoya's case. Their preliminary assessment leans towards the conclusion that the diagnosis of lymphoma is severely lacking, and the subsequent chemotherapy and ICU intervention lack clear medical indications. Of course, this is only a preliminary opinion; a complete appraisal report is still needed."

Each of his words was like a cold, hard brick, slowly and deliberately building up around Qin Ming, constructing an impenetrable cage. Financial irregularities, professional denials, family entanglements... He avoided the professional arguments Qin Ming might have prepared regarding "diagnostic discrepancies" and "equipment errors," and silently completed the encirclement from the flanks and rear.

A long silence fell over the interrogation room. The only sounds were the scratching of the scribe's pen on paper and the occasional soft sip of water from Expert Chen.

Qin Ming kept his head down, but the defense he tried to build with silence was beginning to crumble from within. The other party didn't roar, didn't threaten, and didn't even deliberately emphasize the severity of the law. He simply laid out before him, in a calm tone, facts that Qin Ming couldn't refute, or rather, facts that would be meaningless to refute.

He recalled Zheng Qi's fists and insults, the Guard Wang's signal that signified "giving up," and the potential scorn and future his daughter might face... All his hopes and all his perseverance seemed so ridiculous and futile at this moment.

Expert Chen stopped speaking and simply looked at him quietly, his gaze calm yet seemingly able to penetrate his fragile exterior and see the intense breakdown and struggle unfolding within him.

Time passed by, second by second.

Finally, Qin Ming, who had been keeping his head down, slowly raised it.

His face was expressionless, his eyes vacant, as if all his spirit had been drained away. His chapped lips trembled slightly, emitting a barely audible sigh.

He looked at the Expert Chen across from him, who remained calm and composed, and it was as if he were looking through him at some distant, unattainable place.

Then, in an unusually hoarse tone, yet with a calmness born of utter surrender, he spoke:

"I admit it."

"... I did all of this."