It wasn't that complicated, actually.
You just had to be ruthless. Harden your heart, grab a piece of the broken bottle on the floor, and stab. In Zhang Qin's words, it was just for a moment, and it was over quickly.
"I even looked it up back then. I found that to meet the standard for a serious injury, something like losing the function of a limb was too difficult. I couldn't pull it off, and you police would be able to tell."
"The eye was simpler. Besides, he was always hitting me and smashing things anyway."
In the monitoring room.
Hearing this, Zhang Jian broke out in a cold sweat.
He had been the one to handle this case back then. Now, it meant he'd gotten it wrong—a miscarriage of justice.
This was no small matter.
Sun Zhao noticed and patted his back, saying in a low voice, "We'll deal with this later."
Zhang Jian nodded bitterly.
