Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 104

The pile of bugs Little Tong brought back from the wetland park weren’t too bad—except for that frog. It was particularly hard to catch, leaping fast and far, always darting into the tightest corners.

Qiu Sheng retreated behind the glass door in fright, leaving Zhong Jin and Little Tong to deal with the frog on the balcony. In the end, it was Little Tong’s small size that saved the day—she squeezed into the narrow gap between the washing machine and the wall to finally grab the frog.

Clutching the tiny frog, Little Tong crawled backward out of the space, her face lit with excitement. But when she turned her head, she was met with Zhong Jin’s furious glare.

“Heh heh,” Little Tong grinned slyly, pulling out her “get-out-of-spanking-free card” from her collar and hanging it prominently on her clothes. She tilted her head up and grinned again at Zhong Jin: “Heh heh.”

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Zhong Jin had no way to deal with this mischievous child. That night, he found a cardboard box to house all the little creatures she had collected.

The next day, Zhong Jin went to the flower and bird market and returned with a large terrarium, placing it on the balcony. Together with Little Tong, he carefully set up the habitat, transferring the bugs and the frog inside so she could observe how insects ate leaves and how frogs ate insects.

After the terrarium became a fixture at home, Little Tong’s small satchel started carrying mysterious objects daily. Sometimes it was a few pebbles and a patch of moss, other times fallen flowers or leaves—but most of the time, it was an assortment of tiny bugs.

Qiu Sheng gradually grew immune to the bugs, though she still hoped Little Tong wouldn’t bring back snakes or lizards—she was terrified of cold-blooded, slithering creatures.

But when Little Tong later caught a small gecko, Qiu Sheng mustered her courage and touched it. It wasn’t as horrifying as she’d imagined.

The frog in the terrarium grew bigger day by day, and in less than a month, it had transformed into a plump, full-grown amphibian.

One day, Little Tong had a sudden idea—she wanted to throw Sang Biao into the terrarium to fight the frog. Qiu Sheng caught her just in time and stopped her, though Zhong Jin later scolded Little Tong so severely she nearly earned herself a “complete childhood.”

The great chicken-frog battle never came to pass.

Life with the mischievous child was a constant battle of wits, but it was always lively. Time flew by, and before they knew it, Qingming Festival arrived.

After handling his family’s funeral arrangements, Zhong Jin had never visited their graves—not even during Qingming. Before, he couldn’t believe they were really gone. He was afraid, unwilling to face it, so he kept running away.

This year, though, Zhong Jin suggested going back to Beijing to pay respects.

With only three days for the holiday, they decided to take a late-night flight to save time.

At security, they ran into Ming Yan again. Zhong Jin spotted him first, nudging Qiu Sheng and pointing ahead: “Brother Talent.”

Ming Yan turned at the same moment and waved at them.

Little Tong, nestled in Zhong Jin’s arms, waved energetically and called out in her clear voice: “Hello, Brother Talent!”

Hearing the new nickname, Ming Yan shot Zhong Jin a meaningful look.

Zhong Jin, unshaken even after being caught giving someone a nickname, greeted him calmly: “Old Ming, heading back to Beijing?”

Ming Yan replied with a dark expression: “Yeah, going to visit my grandfather’s grave.”

Since they were all heading to Beijing at the same time, they ended up on the same flight—and in the same VIP lounge.

Ming Yan, dressed in a vintage suit, pulled out an e-reader from his LV briefcase and began elegantly reading an English book.

Meanwhile, Zhong Jin’s side was pure domestic chaos.

Little Tong was either hungry or thirsty, snacking while leaning against Zhong Jin’s knee as he wiped her face and hands with wet wipes. Qiu Sheng busied herself opening packages, peeling fruit, and cleaning up the mess.

They weren’t being particularly loud, but Ming Yan kept getting distracted, his gaze drifting toward them.

Little Tong noticed him staring and assumed he wanted food. Hugging a giant bag of chips, she toddled over and plopped it onto Ming Yan’s lap.

Ming Yan: “...I don’t want any, thanks.”

“Open ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍it for me.”

Ming Yan obliged, peeling open the bag. Little Tong pulled out a single chip and handed it to him: “Thank you. Let’s share.”

“Thanks.” Ming Yan took the chip and ate it with refined grace.

Little Tong happily trotted back with the rest of the chips.

Ming Yan: “...” So much for sharing—you gave me one?

After finishing a whole bottle of yogurt, Little Tong announced she needed to pee. Qiu Sheng got up to take her to the restroom.

With the VIP lounge nearly empty, their corner was now just Zhong Jin and Ming Yan—and the atmosphere turned subtly awkward.

Zhong Jin, holding Little Tong’s silk toy dog, closed his eyes to rest.

Ming Yan glanced toward where Qiu Sheng had left, then murmured, his voice low—as if speaking to Zhong Jin, or maybe just to himself:

“As a partner in the firm, I knew about Qiu Sheng’s marital status. When I first heard she was divorced, I did have… thoughts.”

Zhong Jin opened his eyes: “Are you talking to me?”

Ming Yan continued: “But then I realized you two still love each other. You get obviously jealous, and Qiu Sheng—the way she talks to you is different from how she talks to anyone else.”

“I have no intention of being a third wheel. I just didn’t know the full situation before.” He spread his hands. “Anyway, I wish you both happiness.”

Zhong Jin had disliked this guy before, but now that things were out in the open, his irritation faded. At least Brother Talent was upfront, unlike Wen Hechang—that guy had been clingy as hell, impossible to shake off when he visited Haishan.

Still, Ming Yan’s words were a wake-up call. With rivals lurking everywhere, Zhong Jin needed to win Qiu Sheng back as soon as possible.

But his situation was a bit awkward. The one-year deadline he and Qiu Sheng had agreed on was almost up. If he confessed now, she’d definitely think he was only doing it for their child.

Putting himself in her shoes—if Qiu Sheng suddenly brought up remarriage at this point, he’d also feel suspicious, wondering if her motives were pure.

Back when they first got together, it had happened naturally. They’d never gone through this whole courtship phase, so Zhong Jin had zero experience.

He eyed Ming Yan thoughtfully. This guy seemed like a smooth operator—maybe he should ask him for advice?

He glanced over at Talent Brother and noticed he had picked up his e-reader again, though he hadn’t turned a page in a while. Zhong Jin thought it best to leave him alone—no need to rub salt in his wounds.

By the time they arrived in Jing City, it was already past midnight. Though they’d told Qiu Chen not to come pick them up, he still drove over personally to meet them.

The weather in Jing City was different from Haishan. Even in April, the nights were chilly, and the temperature dropped even lower after midnight. Little Tong had long since fallen asleep, bundled tightly in two layers of blankets as Zhong Jin carried her in his arms.

Perhaps due to the Qingming holiday, the airport was crowded, and taxis were hard to come by. As Qiu Chen drove them out of the terminal, they spotted Ming Yan still waiting by the roadside for a ride.

Qiu Chen asked, "Isn’t that the friend you just came out with? Ask where he’s staying—we can give him a lift."

And so, Ming Yan also ended up in Qiu Chen’s Maybach.

Ming Yan lived far away, in the opposite direction from Zhong Jin’s neighborhood. Feeling apologetic, Ming Yan said, "You can just drop me off up ahead. It should be easier to get a taxi here."

Qiu Chen didn’t stop. Glancing at him in the rearview mirror, he said, "Don’t worry about it. Sit tight. There’s a sandstorm these days, and it’s freezing outside—no need to go out and eat dust."

By the time they dropped Ming Yan off and returned to Zhong Jin’s place, dawn was already breaking. The neighborhood was alive with elderly residents out for their morning exercises.

Central heating in Jing City usually ended in March, but Zhong Jin’s apartment had independent heating. Someone had come by earlier to turn it on, so the place was warm and cozy, with spotless floors and a freshly cleaned space.

The scent of meat broth lingered in the air.

Little Tong, who had been sleeping soundly in Zhong Jin’s arms, twitched her nose at the smell and woke up, her big dark eyes blinking open. "I’m hungry," she announced.

Zhong Jin chuckled. "Do you have a built-in radar or something?"

Qiu Chen took Little Tong from Zhong Jin’s arms, unwrapped her from the blankets, and helped her into her slippers before leading her inside.

"Your grandma had someone come by to make black chicken soup. It’s been kept warm in the electric pot so you could have some as soon as you got home."

He turned to Zhong Jin. "Are you hungry? Should I make some noodles? The noodles and greens were delivered fresh by the housekeeper today."

Before Zhong Jin could answer, Little Tong tugged at Qiu Chen’s hand. "Please make some noodles. Thank you."

"Want a fried egg with that?" Qiu Chen asked.

Little Tong held up a finger. "One fried egg, please. Thank you, Uncle."

After cooking the noodles, Qiu Chen ate a little with them before excusing himself. He had a contract to review overnight and needed to rush back to the office.

Last night, they’d gone straight from the plane to the car, then from the garage to the elevator, so they hadn’t felt the sandstorm Qiu Chen had mentioned.

But when they stepped out for breakfast this morning, the world outside looked like it had been draped in a vintage filter. Even with masks on, fine yellow dust clung to their hair and clothes.

Qiu Sheng covered his mouth and grumbled, "I’m just going out for breakfast, and it feels like I’m tomb-raiding."

Perched on Zhong Jin’s arm, Little Tong wore a ski mask that covered everything but her big, dark eyes. She launched into one of her signature nonsensical monologues:

"Listen, there was this little sky god, and last time he ate rice, he spilled it everywhere. This time..."

She paused, staring at the swirling sand as if searching for the right words.

Zhong Jin supplied, "He dug sand pits like you, scattering dust everywhere."

Little Tong shook her head. "No. He was eating lüdagunr, and he spilled the yellow flour all over the place."

Then the chubby child wrapped her arms around Zhong Jin’s neck. "I want lüdagunr. Buy me some."

Zhong Jin laughed. "Where are we supposed to find lüdagunr in this weather? You’ll have to settle for douzhi."

Little Tong bonked her forehead against his repeatedly. "I don’t want douzhi!"

Zhong Jin held her head still, grinning, and told Qiu Sheng to check his phone for any nearby shops selling lüdagunr.