142: Chapter 142 Nighttime Investigation of the Coal Yard, Catching Clues

At noon, at the dining table.

Lin Ning told Wang Hui about Wang Hao being arrested.

Wang Hui didn't say anything, but Lin Ning saw her hand grip her chopsticks tightly and stiffen.

"Don't worry, it counts as an attempted crime. At most, he'll face criminal detention; he won't actually go to prison."

Wang Hui's hand relaxed slightly.

Lin Ning said, "I'm going to Erenhot for a few days to have some fun; a classmate there invited me. It's perfect—I don't want to sign a letter of forgiveness for Wang Hao, so let them worry and fume. If they harass you, just say..."

"That's enough," Wang Hui interrupted him. "Do I really need you to teach me?"

Lin Ning chuckled, trying to cheer Wang Hui up.

After eating, Lin Ning packed some things, said his goodbyes, and headed out.

The car turned off the national highway.

He drove steadily, glancing at the rearview mirror from time to time. Only after confirming there was no tail did he turn onto a dirt road between the pastures.

He took a long detour, weaving back and forth through the barrens and saline-alkali land.

Over an hour later, he parked the car next to an abandoned pump house.

This spot was less than five kilometers in a straight line from the West District of the coal yard.

Lin Ning pulled a backpack from the back seat, opened it, and took out a drone.

It was something Lin Ning had bought on an impulse back in Yanjing.

He test-flew it, checked its performance, and adjusted the parameters.

For the next few days, Lin Ning decided he would eat and sleep in the car, fighting them to the bitter end. As long as he found out what they were up to, not a single one of them would escape!

The Air 3 officially claimed a range of 20 kilometers, but Lin Ning would be satisfied as long as it didn't lose connection within six or seven kilometers.

Looking at the images on the screen, he whistled with satisfaction.

It flew toward the coal yard.

On the screen, the coal yard looked like a black scar split open, embedded in the grayish-yellow grassland.

He focused mainly on the West District.

The dispatch building, the storage yard, the dedicated railway lines, the truck transfer area...

He didn't expect to capture any evidence during the day; what he wanted was the layout.

For every corner the screen swept over, he made a mark in the notebook spread across his knees.

The lines were crooked and messy, understandable only to himself.

— Here is a door.

— There are lights here.

— Where does this road lead...

Thirteen minutes.

Lin Ning recalled the drone. The moment it landed, he realized his palms were covered in sweat.

Charging, flying, recalling.

After two rounds, it was dark.

He closed the notebook, leaned the back of his head against the headrest, and visualized the map in his mind.

Just scouting today, no rush.

He grabbed two cups of instant noodles from the passenger seat and made do with some hot water from his thermos.

After eating, he reclined the seat and set an alarm.

Midnight.

Lin Ning opened his eyes in the darkness.

Without any transition, his body switched directly from lying flat to standby mode. He drove the car three kilometers forward and parked it in a saline-alkali depression.

He changed his clothes.

A black windbreaker jacket, black cargo pants, and a sun-protection scarf wrapped around his head and face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

Tucked into his hiking boots was an old Mongolian dagger.

He stood by the car and stretched his body.

Two kilometers.

He needed these two kilometers to lower his heart rate and get into the right state of mind.

The coal yard had no walls.

On the outermost dedicated railway tracks, several coal wagons were parked, under bright lights.

Lin Ning had to circle a bit further north and crawl through the couplings of the parked train.

The smell of coal dust filled his nostrils, bitter and astringent.

Beyond the tracks were several massive coal mountains.

He moved along the shadows of the coal mountains.

Lights? Stop.

Voices? Detour.

Twenty-one minutes.

The West District dispatch building.

This was where Wang Hao worked.

He was responsible for scheduling the shifts and distribution tasks for the various fleets and storage yard staff.

The building was brightly lit, with people coming and going. Lin Ning didn't plan to go inside; he circled to the back and crouched behind a pile of discarded railway sleepers.

Since they needed Wang Hao, it must be for the convenience of the scheduling.

Lin Ning checked his watch. A quarter to one.

People from the second shift were returning to clock out.

People from the third shift began to enter.

Crouching in the shadows, he counted them one by one.

— Light red, still light red...

There was no deep red, nor did he see the people he had seen at the West Yard entrance that day, but Lin Ning wasn't disappointed.

Today was just for scouting the way.

The third shift workers received their tasks and began to disperse toward the various storage yards.

Lin Ning followed from a distance to the storage area assigned for tonight.

Looking around, he found a coal pile with a good view, climbed up, and lay flat.

Just as he took a casual glance, Lin Ning's eyes fixed.

A name so red it was almost black was reflected in his pupils—Zhao Gaoshu.

Pulling out a small pair of binoculars, sure enough, the people blocked by the truck were the rest of the group he had seen that day.

They were laughing and joking with several group leaders from the third shift, offering each other cigarettes.

Five minutes to one.

A new coal train pulled into the station, and the third shift workers quickly started the unloading equipment, which rumbled for over ten minutes.

Coal poured down, dust billowed, and the view became a blur.

The wagons were emptied and towed to the parking area by a tractor.

Lin Ning saw those seven people move.

Lin Ning quickly and quietly climbed down to follow them.

They drove five electric flatbed carts toward the parked empty wagons.

They began "cleaning."

This was an old tradition—sweeping up the residual coal cinders in the wagons to take home for fuel. Lin Ning had seen it when he was a child.

But that was twenty years ago. Lin Ning knew they definitely weren't after coal cinders; he just had to wait now.

In less than half an hour, the two people standing guard on the perimeter gathered toward the wagon.

Before long, the five flatbed carts drove out.

They were piled high, covered with a layer of fresh coal cinders. But beneath the cinders were square-pressed items, their edges showing—

They looked like wooden boards.

Lin Ning poured out his Psychic Power, penetrating that thin layer of disguise.

Neatly pressed adhesive tape.

Beneath that were colorful cartoon packages.

Peppa Pig.

Octonauts.

He had seen this before.

Lin Ning opened his eyes in shock and looked at them.

They were identical to what had been found in the homes of those three thugs before he left the capital.

So, they were drug trafficking?

The train came from Mongolia, which meant transnational drug smuggling. Putting it in a coal train was actually clever; a train couldn't just stop at the port for drug-sniffing dogs to sniff every inch, especially with the dust and pungent smell of coal tar.

Fifty grams meant the death penalty. He estimated the load and did a quick mental calculation.

How many fifty-gram portions were in these five carts?

Lin Ning hid in a small, shadowy corner and didn't move; his heart was beating so loudly it sounded like thunder in his ears.

He covered his face, and after a few seconds, he slowly lowered his hands, his eyes filled with fury.

These people all had to die!

At this moment, Lin Ning was absolutely certain that Wu Zhanmu's death was definitely intentional.

He stood there and waited for half an hour.

No one came back to investigate.

Lin Ning turned and withdrew the way he came.

It had taken twenty-one minutes to get there.

It took eleven minutes to get back.

He practically ran out of the coal yard.

The moment the car door closed, Lin Ning leaned back into his seat.

He was covered in coal dust, but he didn't care.

He gripped his phone, the screen lighting up and darkening repeatedly.

Call 110?

Don't be ridiculous; He Changcheng was part of this operation.

Call Officer Li Feng?

A low-ranking officer? By the time he transferred the case across provinces, it would be far too late.

Call Erenhot?

He didn't even know if they had people in Erenhot.

Chen Zhi? He was with the Ministry of State Security; it wasn't his department.

Lamenting that one always lacks connections when they're needed most, Lin Ning then dialed Chen Zhi's number without hesitation.