Zhang Er Che only sobered up from his drunkenness the next day.
Throughout yesterday, he had been in an exceptionally agitated mood, splashing water around in the police station before directly passing out in the sobering up room.
Looking at the snow-white ceiling and the simple elongated energy-saving lamp, he was slow to respond.
The back of his head throbbed dully, as if someone had slapped him hard several times, his arms and shoulders ached, and the bed was uncomfortable, leaving his back sore and distressed.
"Zhang Er Che."
The door opened, and an authoritative and unapologetic voice sounded.
"Are you sober now?"
As the Zhang family's only heir, Zhang Er Che was accustomed to being adulated, and the tone of the voice made him want to erupt in anger, but just as he turned around, his gaze met the uniform.
He froze completely.
***
Interrogation room.
With his head lowered, the man was questioned again by the police.
