I Turned Filthy Rich Just By Sleeping With Women?!
Chapter 72: A New Lead On Madam He Case

Chapter 72: A New Lead On Madam He Case

By morning, Zhao Yiming had already slipped out of Lihua’s apartment. He didn’t call, didn’t text—he just left a handwritten note:

"I need to go somewhere. Don’t wait for me."

Of course, he had her number. But for the next three days, he planned to vanish like a damn ghost. Why?

Because of that one line, he’d said the night before.

"You seem to be in heat whenever you meet me, Madam Ruan."

That not so innocent-sounding command had turned into a living curse. Every time Lihua laid eyes on him now, she’d cling to him like a starving beast—and it always ended in sex.

Panicked, Zhao Yiming had already asked the system how to undo it.

[System Answer:]

You can activate the skill again to overwrite the command and return her to normal behavior.

’The problem is—THE FUCKING SKILL IS ON COOLDOWN FOR THREE DAYS!!!’ he screamed internally, slamming his palm on the car horn as if the honk could vent his frustration.

Now, he was driving straight to the Wen Sisters’ noodle shop. Not for food—but to meet Han Queying and deliver the video proof from the thugs’ confession.

Apparently, she’d found a new lead as well, and since they couldn’t meet at the precinct (as Luo Yanyu and Zhao Yiming both wanted to be anonymous), the noodle shop was the perfect low-key spot.

Zhao Yiming sighed, gripping the steering wheel.

"She wouldn’t go full psycho over something like that, right? I mean... she’s classy. Refined. Definitely wouldn’t order her men to track me down..."

He paused. Swallowed.

"...Right? I’m just a fling to her. A damn good one, but still."

Trying to calm himself, he parked a few blocks away and made his way to the shop.

From the window, he spotted Luo Yanyu already chatting with Han Queying and Mr. Wu.

As he stepped inside, the bell chimed, and Wen Qiao greeted him from behind the counter with her usual soft smile.

"Morning, Madam Wen," Zhao nodded. "Dan Dan noodles, please. Light on the spice also no coriander."

Wen Qiao raised an eyebrow. "If you don’t like spice, you don’t have to order it."

Zhao chuckled. "Oh, I love it—I just can’t handle it, no matter how much I try."

She blinked at him, something flickering in her eyes like recognition—but she only nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Zhao! Over here!" Luo Yanyu waved, patting the seat next to her.

Sliding into the chair beside her, Zhao immediately got to business. "So, which one do you want first—my video or the lead you found, Detective Han?"

Han Queying sat straighter. "Let’s see your video first. But... you mentioned wanting the recorder to stay anonymous?"

"Yeah. If possible."

Han sighed. "That’ll be tricky. Any submitted evidence must have a traceable source and already goes through evidence verification. Otherwise, the court will rip it apart."

"Why do you want it anonymous anyway?" she pressed.

Before Zhao could answer, Mr. Wu slammed the table.

"Isn’t it obvious, Officer? These people are gangsters! You think we want them knocking on our door because they recognize the one who caught them?!"

He looked dead serious. "Just follow what these good kids want. I’m already thankful enough that they helped me and my wife!"

Zhao smiled. "Easy there, Mr. Wu. We’re just being careful. Let’s look at the video first, yeah?"

Everyone nodded. Zhao tapped the play button on his phone and let the video roll.

The footage showed the two thugs clearly confessing—stating their names and the reason they pushed Madam He.

The problem?

They looked like they’d been run over by a train.

Bruised faces. Swollen cheeks. One guy even had a broken nose. It was less "casual confession" and more "hostage situation."

Han Queying slowly turned her eyes to Zhao Yiming, her gaze narrowing with disbelief.

He immediately looked away, whistling innocently.

Meanwhile, Mr. Wu roared with laughter. "Good job, young man! You beat the bastards before I could! If I had gotten to them first, I might’ve killed them!"

Luo Yanyu grinned. "See? That’s why you’re the best, Zhao! I forgive you for making me wait three hours!"

She gave him a thumbs-up with a bright smile.

Zhao relaxed, chuckling under his breath.

"This..." Han Queying sighed, rubbing her temples. "You do realize those two men could sue you for assault, right?"

She glanced at Zhao Yiming with a sharp look. "And with the condition they’re in—bruised, beaten—it’s very likely the court will interpret that video as coercion. Or worse... a forced confession."

"Courts are messy," she continued. "Especially when the defense has a lawyer. They’ll spin the whole thing like they’re the victims, and you’re some thug who made them confess to a crime they didn’t commit."

Zhao Yiming swallowed. "So... we can’t use the footage?"

"If possible, no," she replied firmly. "But—at the very least—we now have their faces. That’s enough to match against my lead."

She pulled out her phone and played a video for them.

In it, Madam He could be seen taking her usual stroll through the shopping street—nothing out of the ordinary.

But behind her, just barely keeping distance, was a man in a black jacket, a beanie pulled low to obscure his face.

"Not only this, I have a lot of footage that him following Madam He for about a week."

"That bastard..." Mr. Wu clenched his fists and slammed the table again, though this time his voice cracked. There wasn’t just anger anymore—there was pain, deep and raw.

Han nodded. "We just need a solid facial recognition hit. And his alibi during the time of the incident. If we’re lucky, we can find a witness who saw him putting that rock on the overpass."

She frowned. "But this case is tricky. We don’t have enough direct evidence or witnesses. Just circumstantial pieces... not enough to pin him down legally."

"But you can arrest him, right, Ms. Officer?!" Mr. Wu’s voice trembled. "You have to! After all the things they’ve done, after what they did to my wife... You can’t let him walk free."

"Mr. Wu..." Luo Yanyu reached out gently, her voice calm, reassuring. "It’ll be alright."

But the old man shook his head. "It’s not alright, young lady."

His shoulders sagged, the fight in his voice reduced to regret. "That man’s been following my wife around... and I didn’t even realize it."

His fists clenched tighter. "It’s my fault. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve protected her."

The table fell into a heavy silence.

They all watched the old man—his body frail, hunched not just with age, and crushed by the weight of guilt.

But Han Queying stood up straight, her eyes blazing with fire.

She wasn’t going to let this go.

"Don’t worry, Mr. Wu," she said with conviction.

"I will find him. I’ll gather the evidence, I’ll chase the bastard down to the ends of the city—and I’ll make sure he rots in jail for what he did."

Her voice didn’t waver. "I swear it."