Chapter 2: Alone in the Silence
Lin Mian sat alone in the interrogation room, her wrists still marked with the red impressions left by the handcuffs. The interrogation had ended two hours ago, but she remained locked in the dim, cramped space, waiting for the results. The faint ticking of the wall clock was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room, each tick tightening the pressure in her chest like a vice.
She was alone, and the silence around her was oppressive, as though the room itself was holding its breath. The faint smell of disinfectant still lingered in the air, but there was no more sharp, bitter scent to disturb her senses. The walls felt cold and unyielding, and yet she had no idea what was coming next.
Suddenly, there was a soft metallic sound as the lock on the door clicked open. Lin Mian tensed, her body instinctively bracing for whatever might come. The door creaked open, and a tall figure stepped into the room—Qin Zhao'an, the man who had been interrogating her earlier.
He closed the door behind him without making a sound, and without turning on the main lights, he walked toward her, the dim overhead light casting long shadows on the floor. His figure loomed over her like a towering wall of cold authority. He didn't sit. Instead, he stood by the table, his eyes scanning her with a cold precision.
Lin Mian didn't move. Her body felt stiff, and she could feel the weariness creeping into her bones, but she fought it off. She couldn't let him see any sign of weakness.
Qin Zhao'an broke the silence first. His voice was low and clipped, as if every word were carefully chosen. "You've had some time to think, Lin Mian. I trust you understand the gravity of your situation."
She remained silent, her gaze fixed on him. She could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her, but she wasn't ready to break yet. She hadn't said anything in the interrogation, and she wouldn't start now. Her silence was her only shield, the only thing she had left to cling to.
After a long pause, Qin Zhao'an walked around the table and stopped just in front of her. He loomed over her, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity in his gaze made her feel as though he could see right through her, as if there was no part of her that could remain hidden.
"Do you know why you're still here, Lin Mian?" His voice was low but firm. "You're not just some random suspect. You've been caught in something far larger than yourself. This isn't just about your identity anymore. It's about everything you've been involved with. Everything you know."
Lin Mian's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. She knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to unsettle her, to get her to speak, to reveal something—anything that could give him leverage. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Qin Zhao'an took a step closer, his presence almost suffocating. "You have information, Lin Mian. Information that could change the course of everything. And I know you know that. You've been playing this game, pretending you're just another innocent victim. But you're not. You never were."
The words hit her like a slap to the face. Lin Mian could feel the blood draining from her face, her hands beginning to tremble ever so slightly. But she forced herself to remain calm. She had to. She couldn't let him see her falter.
"Who are you really working for, Lin Mian?" Qin Zhao'an pressed, his voice colder now, the words coming faster. "Who's behind all this? Who gave you those IDs? Who's pulling your strings?"
Lin Mian's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the panic rising, but she suppressed it. She couldn't show fear. Not now. Not in front of him. She met his gaze, her voice steady but low. "I told you before. I don't know what you're talking about."
Qin Zhao'an let out a bitter laugh, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—a flash of doubt, or maybe just frustration. But he quickly masked it, his expression once again cold and calculating.
"You think I believe that?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "You're not just some innocent bystander, Lin Mian. You've been involved in things far beyond what you've told me. The evidence is right in front of me. The satellite phone, the fake IDs, the documents we found in your bag. And now, you expect me to believe that you're just some poor soul who got caught up in all of this by accident?"
Lin Mian remained silent, refusing to let him provoke her. The walls seemed to close in around her, but she held herself still, her back straight, her mind focused. She couldn't let him see her crack. Not yet.
Qin Zhao'an leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but cutting. "You know what I think? I think you're too smart for your own good. I think you know exactly what's going on. And I think you've been hiding things from me. But that's okay. Because you're not the only one who knows how to play this game."
He straightened up again, his eyes piercing into hers. "I'm giving you one last chance, Lin Mian. Tell me the truth. Everything. Or this is going to get much worse for you."
Lin Mian's heart raced, but she held her ground. She could feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on her, but she refused to break. She had made it this far without giving him anything, and she wasn't about to let him force her hand now.
"I've told you everything I know," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not going to say anything else."
Qin Zhao'an stared at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched, his eyes unreadable. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he paused, his hand resting on the doorknob.
"Remember, Lin Mian," he said without looking back. "You're not as innocent as you think. And I will find out everything. No one is untouchable. Not even you."
He left, slamming the door behind him, leaving Lin Mian alone in the cold silence of the interrogation room.
The door locked with a click, and the air in the room felt colder, heavier. Lin Mian sat there for a long time, her mind racing, her thoughts a tangled mess of confusion, fear, and frustration. She knew she had to escape, to find a way out of this mess. But how? She couldn't see any clear path forward. The weight of everything pressing down on her was suffocating, and for the first time in a long while, she felt truly alone.
This translation maintains a high literary quality, ensuring that the intensity of the original scene is preserved while also making it accessible to English-speaking audiences. If you need adjustments or further chapters translated, feel free to let me know!