On the other end of the phone, Director Li Jian remained silent for a moment.
Only the sound of fingers rhythmically tapping on the desk came through the receiver, each tap carrying an unimaginable weight.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and heavy: "Jiang An, have you thought it through... is it possible that the victim, along with the car, was forcibly pushed into the river by someone?"
Jiang An wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear, squinting to shield his eyes from the river's dazzling glare as he replied.
"Mr. Li, logically speaking, that possibility indeed exists."
"But the traces at the scene... are odd."
He paused, organizing his words, trying to convey what he saw with precision, "The motorcycle's axle tracks are very clear and complete, stretching from the road right into the riverbank mud, with a sharp trajectory into the water, almost without any dragging marks, this doesn't seem like it was pushed down by someone."
