Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 122

Little Tong clutched her milk bottle, clinking it playfully with the baby’s before gripping the crib railing and gulping down the milk in big mouthfuls. By the time she finished the entire bottle, the chubby toddler handed the empty bottle to her mother, wobbled a few steps like a tipsy little drunk, and promptly face-planted onto the sofa.

When Qiu Sheng went to check on her, the child was already fast asleep, tiny fists clenched and cheeks flushed pink.

The postpartum nanny chuckled. "The baby’s 'milk-drunk.' Newborns often doze off while feeding, but this is the first time I’ve seen an older toddler get milk-drunk like this."

Helpless, Qiu Sheng adjusted Little Tong on the sofa, tucking a blanket over her for a nap.

After lingering a while at the postpartum center and noticing Du Xin stifling yawns, Qiu Sheng decided not to disturb her further. She moved to pick up the sleeping child, but Qiu Chen stood abruptly. "She looks heavy. Let me carry her out for you."

As Qiu Chen cradled Little Tong, Qiu Sheng followed behind, pushing the empty stroller. "We could just put her in the stroller," she suggested.

"No need. I’ll take her straight to the car—no point disturbing her." Qiu Chen supported the child’s head with one hand, carrying her steadily forward.

People bustled around the postpartum center, so Qiu Chen held back his questions until they stepped outside, where the surroundings grew quiet. Only then did he resume their earlier conversation.

"What’s really going on with this child?"

Qiu Sheng met his gaze calmly. "She’s my child from a past life."

For a moment, Qiu Chen seemed not to comprehend. He halted, the sleeping child still in his arms, and stared at Qiu Sheng in confusion.

She repeated, "She’s mine and Zhong Jin’s child from another lifetime. She crossed over from another world."

"I don’t understand," Qiu Chen murmured, his bewilderment deepening.

Years of navigating the business world had honed his composed demeanor, but Qiu Sheng hadn’t seen him this visibly lost in ages.

Standing by the fountain outside the postpartum center, Qiu Sheng explained her dreams and Little Tong’s origins. She trusted her family implicitly and saw no reason to hide the truth.

Qiu Chen already knew about her recurring dreams—she’d even sketched them on a digital tablet and shown him. Those dreams had been drenched in dark, opulent hues, steeped in an eerie, gothic-Chinese horror aesthetic. For someone who avoided horror films, the imagery had unsettled him so much he could barely look.

Now, something even stranger had happened: the child from those nightmares had crossed into reality and was currently napping in his arms.

Once the logic finally clicked, Qiu Chen swiftly deposited Little Tong back into the stroller, draped a blanket over her, and took two large steps back, putting a safe distance between himself and this uncanny child.

Qiu Sheng nearly laughed at his skittishness. Over forty, married to a forensic examiner, and still this jumpy? Pathetic.

Having dropped her bombshell, she left Qiu Chen to process it alone, wheeling the stroller away without another glance.

Aunt Liang had weekends off—she spent them attending guitar lessons, catching movies, or browsing shops.

So weekends meant just Qiu Sheng and Little Tong at home.

The toddler sprawled on the floor watching cartoons. A 30-minute hourglass sat beside the TV; on weekdays, she got one flip’s worth of screen time, but weekends granted her two.

At first, the little troublemaker had tried outsmarting Qiu Sheng, secretly flipping the hourglass when her back was turned. But Qiu Sheng noticed the sand never seemed to deplete and caught on to the trick.

Now, the hourglass lived on the highest shelf, far beyond Little Tong’s reach, leaving her to pout as the sand trickled down.

After her two allotted hourglasses of cartoons, Little Tong scrambled up from the rug and trotted into the kitchen to find Qiu Sheng.

To maintain her figure, Qiu Sheng used Aunt Liang’s days off for intermittent fasting, sticking to salads and fresh juices.

Even with a child now, she kept the habit—though while she ate low-calorie greens, she’d order takeout for Little Tong, indulging her with kid favorites like fried chicken or pizza on weekends.

While waiting for the McDonald’s delivery, Little Tong toddled to the kitchen island, hoisting herself onto tiptoes to peer over the edge and spy on her mother.

Spotting Qiu Sheng chopping cucumbers and discarding the ends, the little thief stealthily snatched one and gnawed on it.

Qiu Sheng caught her and sliced off a crisp, juicy middle portion for her instead.

The chubby-cheeked glutton stood by, munching through her cucumber prize, then clambered back up the island to forage for more snacks.

Seeing Qiu Sheng take out the cherry tomatoes and cut them in half with a knife, Little Tong picked up a whole one and popped it into her mouth.

Qiu Sheng immediately selected the plumpest, sweetest-looking tomato from the pile and handed it to her.

While Qiu Sheng was cutting bell peppers, the little foodie sneaked over to steal a piece.

She took a bite of the yellow bell pepper, chewed for a moment, then scrunched up her face and dashed to the trash bin to spit it out.

Holding the half-eaten pepper, the child hesitated—wasting food felt wrong—so she toddled over to Qiu Sheng, tugged at her pants, and offered it up:

"Mommy, here."

Qiu Sheng, absorbed in chopping vegetables, hadn’t noticed the earlier antics. She bent down, took the bitten pepper with her mouth, chewed it calmly, and swallowed without a flicker of expression.

Little Tong watched the whole scene with a wrinkled nose, heaving a sigh of relief when Qiu Sheng didn’t spit it out.

Undeterred, the little mischief-maker went for another snack. This time, Qiu Sheng was slicing boiled okra. Spotting the child’s approach, she handed her a star-shaped okra slice.

The kid leaned against the counter, mouth open to accept it—but before even chewing, she scurried back to the trash bin and spat it out.

Qiu Sheng asked, "What’s wrong? Don’t like it?"

Little Tong straightened up, staring at her mother in disbelief. After a long pause, she raised a tiny finger and declared solemnly:

"Mommy, next time you cook, don’t put boogers in the food."

Qiu Sheng blinked. "What boogers?"

Little Tong waddled closer, pointing at the okra’s slimy strands. "Eww," she gagged.

Qiu Sheng laughed. "Sweetheart, that’s not boogers. It’s the vegetable’s natural mucus."

Little Tong shook her head, finger still raised. "I have boogers too. I know what they look like. And I don’t eat them."

Later, as Little Tong munched on her fried chicken leg, she watched in horror as Qiu Sheng ate the "booger-covered" vegetables without flinching. The chubby toddler clutched her head in despair—clearly, Mommy had lost her mind.

That afternoon, Qiu Chen dropped by.

Though past forty, he wore his age well—tailored suits, broad shoulders, a trim waistline, and taut muscles. But today, the handsome CEO looked weary, his face pale with faint shadows under his eyes.

After hearing the child’s backstory, he fell silent for a beat before sighing softly.

"Let’s get a paternity test first."

Qiu Sheng, hugging a pillow on the couch, replied evenly, "Unnecessary. I’m certain she’s mine."

Qiu Chen insisted. "The test is non-negotiable. If she’s to inherit shares in the group, I need confirmation she’s truly a Qiu."

Outvoted, Qiu Sheng relented, sealing her and Little Tong’s toothbrushes in a bag for him.

Qiu Chen left promptly, but instead of heading to the hospital, he directed his driver to "Wood & Tale" headquarters.

Wood & Tale—the rebranded name of Zhong Jin’s company after he took over the family business.

Originally focused on traditional rosewood furniture, Zhong Jin had expanded into solid wood home decor, pivoting to a modernized Chinese aesthetic that resonated with the market.

Though Zhong Jin had questionable taste, he’d recruited a brilliant designer, delegating creative control while excelling in management. The company had thrived under his leadership.

When Qiu Chen arrived, Zhong Jin was in a meeting. His secretary whispered to him before escorting Qiu Chen to the office.

"Mr. Qiu, Mr. Zhong asks you to wait in his office."

The space was minimalist—glass walls, sparse furnishings, just a sleek white desk and a taupe leather sofa set from Wood & Tale’s premium "Reminiscence" line.

Qiu Chen had barely settled when Zhong Jin appeared down the hallway—crisp shirt, tailored trousers, strides purposeful.

He pushed open the glass door, his cool voice preceding him: "You needed something?"

"Come. Sit." Qiu Chen gestured.

Zhong Jin approached. Qiu Chen patted the spot beside him. "Here."

"......?" Zhong Jin raised a skeptical eyebrow, wondering when his relationship with Qiu Chen had become so intimate that they needed to sit side by side, pressed close together?

He kept his hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers, not moving forward, instead standing in a guarded posture about a meter away from Qiu Chen.

Seeing that he wasn’t coming closer, Qiu Chen took the initiative to stand up and walk over, extending an arm to drape over Zhong Jin’s shoulders. "Haven’t seen you in a while. Just came to check on you."

As he spoke, Qiu Chen’s gaze swept over Zhong Jin’s shoulders.

Zhong Jin was wearing a light gray shirt today—if there were any stray hairs on it, they would be quite noticeable.

Qiu Chen had sharp eyes. A quick glance revealed no fallen strands.

He then reached out, ruffling Zhong Jin’s hair like an old friend who hadn’t seen him in ages. When he pulled his hand back, his palm was completely clean—not a single hair had come loose.

Qiu Chen stared at Zhong Jin’s head in disbelief. This guy was already 35—how was his hair still so indestructible?

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, employees occasionally passed by, pretending not to look while sneaking glances inside. Seeing the CEO of the Qiu Corporation getting handsy with their boss, the staff couldn’t help but sense gossip in the air. Whether they had business there or not, they found excuses to walk by and peek.

Annoyed, Zhong Jin swatted Qiu Chen’s hand away and strode to the door, pressing the electric button. The blinds slowly descended, blocking the prying eyes of the onlookers outside.

But with the blinds down, the dim lighting in the room only made things seem more suspicious.

This only irritated Zhong Jin further.

He glared impatiently at Qiu Chen. "What the hell do you want?"

Qiu Chen glanced around casually. "Nothing, just catching up."

Zhong Jin scoffed. "From the moment you walked in, you’ve been deliberately getting close to me. First, you stared at my shoulders, then you went for my hair. What kind of ‘catching up’ is this? Are you trying to pluck my hair? What do you want it for?"

Qiu Chen: "......" He sighed inwardly. This guy would’ve made a great detective.

"Never mind. I’m leaving." Qiu Chen patted Zhong Jin’s shoulder.

When he reached the door and pulled it open, the eavesdropping employees, caught off guard, found themselves face-to-face with him. They scrambled away, suddenly very busy.

Zhong Jin was speechless. What kind of nonsense was Qiu Chen pulling? If it weren’t for the fact that he was Qiu Sheng’s older brother, Zhong Jin would’ve cursed him out.

What did he want with his hair?

Hair… The first thing that came to Zhong Jin’s mind was a paternity test.

But why would Qiu Chen want a paternity test with him? Could they have been switched at birth? Impossible—Qiu Chen looked too much like Qiu Zhengrui.

Was it about Qiu Sheng?

Had Qiu Sheng had his child?

But Zhong Jin quickly dismissed that thought. If Qiu Sheng had his child, the kid would be at least nine by now. Qiu Chen wouldn’t be coming to him only now.

Unable to make sense of it, Zhong Jin decided to set the matter aside for the time being.

After the paternity test results came out, Du Xin and Tao Siyuan also learned about Little Tong’s origins. Their reactions, however, were nowhere near as dramatic as Qiu Chen’s.

Tao Siyuan assumed the child must have been born to Qiu Sheng and some man. For whatever reason, Qiu Sheng had decided to keep the child but cut the father out of the picture, fabricating this bizarre story to hide the man’s identity.

In Tao Siyuan’s mind, Qiu Sheng was still the little girl who used to spin tall tales—like claiming aliens had stolen her candy—just to get more sweets.

But regardless of the truth, now that Qiu Sheng had a daughter, and she herself had become a grandmother, it was still something to celebrate.

Du Xin, on the other hand, remained utterly composed. She simply nodded and said, "Hmm."

Qiu Chen pressed her. "Don’t you think this is bizarre?"

Du Xin replied flatly, "I’ve encountered stranger things in my line of work. Want to hear about them?"

"No, thanks." Qiu Chen immediately backed off.

Now that Little Tong’s identity no longer needed to be hidden from the family, Qiu Sheng decided to take her back to the villa for a few days.

Upon arriving, she was both amused and exasperated by the welcome the family had prepared. With a new child in the house, they had gone all out—adding cribs, baby toys, play mats, and more.

After learning she had another granddaughter, Tao Siyuan had stocked up on even more toys and snacks for toddlers.

Worried about the child getting hurt, they had covered every floor and staircase with rugs. To keep things cheerful, they’d chosen rainbow-colored ones. Every sharp corner on furniture was padded with cartoon-themed bumpers.

In short, the entire villa now resembled a children’s playground. While it was perfect for a kid, the original adult residents found it utterly surreal to live in.

Tao Siyuan told Little Tong that the villa was also her home, and she could eat or play whatever she wanted.

So Little Tong unceremoniously dragged her cream-colored little cart around the house, picking up anything she liked and tossing it into the cart.

Before long, the cart—now even larger than her tiny frame—was filled with all sorts of things: a few small toys, but mostly snacks and drinks.

After her grand scavenging mission, Little Tong hauled her loot back to the living room. Qiu Sheng, seeing how out of breath she was, scooped her up onto the sofa to rest.

Qiu Sheng asked the housekeeper to prepare warm milk for Little Tong, and soon, a perfectly temperatured bottle of children's milk was handed to her.

Leaning against the sofa, Little Tong sipped eagerly from the bottle while chatting with her grandmother, whom she’d just met.

She raised a finger and said very seriously, "Grandma, I had a fight with the parrot."

Tao Siyuan played along, feigning surprise. "Oh really? Did you win?"

Little Tong lifted her head from the bottle and replied calmly, "I won."

Just as Qiu Sheng was about to scold her for fibbing, Little Tong added, raising another finger, "But the parrot won more."

Tao Siyuan chuckled fondly. "Our little one already understands the concept of a win-win."

Qiu Sheng facepalmed. "Mom, is that really what ‘win-win’ means?"

After finishing her milk and chatting a while longer, Little Tong slid off the sofa and climbed onto a small green rocking horse, swaying back and forth.

Tao Siyuan watched her adoringly. "Sweetheart, are you having fun?"

Little Tong gripped the horse and shook her head. "Grandma, I don’t really like this kind."

"Then what do you like? Tell Grandma, and I’ll get it for you."

Still rocking, Little Tong began humming and bobbing her head to a tune: "Dad’s dad is called grandpa, dad’s dad is called grandpa..."

It was the jingle from those coin-operated rocking rides at supermarkets—the ones Little Tong always insisted on riding twice whenever Qiu Sheng took her out in the city.

"We don’t have that kind of ride at home. You can only play on those at the supermarket," Qiu Sheng explained.

But before she could finish, Tao Siyuan was already on the phone with Qiu Chen, instructing him:

"Get one of those singing rocking rides—the kind that plays music. Hurry up and have it delivered."

"What song? The one that goes ‘Dad’s dad is grandpa.’"

"It’ll ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‍arrive today, right?"

By dinnertime, Little Tong was happily rocking away on the ride right outside their villa. The cheerful music soon drew a crowd of neighborhood kids.

Before long, messages flooded the residents’ group chat, all tagging Qiu Chen:

["Where did you buy that rocking ride?"]

["You’re letting your kid play with it at home? That’s just cruel! My grandson’s been throwing a tantrum for hours—he won’t get up unless we buy one."]

["Mind if my son comes over to try it?"]

Exhausted from the day’s adventures, Little Tong asked to take a bath after dinner, already yawning and ready for bed.

The villa had a dedicated spa room with a massive jacuzzi. As Little Tong sat on the steps inside, tiny bubbles suddenly fizzled around her. The little girl immediately stood up, pinching her nose.

"Eww, the bathtub guy is farting!"

Qiu Sheng switched modes, and water jets shot out from the sides.

Little Tong waddled out of the tub, thoroughly unimpressed.

From then on, she refused to set foot in that jacuzzi again, declaring that Grandma’s bathtub "farted and peed" and she wouldn’t bathe in it. Qiu Sheng ended up washing her in the shower instead.

The tired child dozed off mid-hair-drying, forcing Qiu Sheng to cradle her head while calling the housekeeper to finish the job.

Even Qiu Sheng’s bedroom hadn’t escaped the child-friendly makeover. The once-elegant European-style bed now sported Disney-themed sheets, the piano was draped in plush covers, and stuffed animals littered every corner.

She’d never had such luxuries as a kid. No wonder people said love skipped a generation.

Having gulped down two glasses of juice at dinner, Little Tong woke up in the middle of the night needing to pee. She clambered out of bed backward, her short legs kicking until she touched the floor.

She toddled to the bathroom, perched on the child-sized toilet seat, and did her business. Afterward, she stood there pensively for a moment before padding back to the bed.

She reached out and poked Qiu Sheng’s cheek.

Blinking sleepily, Qiu Sheng murmured, "What’s wrong, sweetie?"

Little Tong whispered, "Mommy, I peed."

"Mm, did you wet yourself?" Qiu Sheng asked gently, sitting up to fetch fresh pajamas.

Little Tong held her small belly and shook her head: "No, I was afraid flushing the toilet would wake you up, so I wanted to let you know—I didn’t flush."

Qiu Sheng: "......"

"Alright, sweetheart, thank you. You’re so thoughtful." Qiu Sheng hugged her considerate daughter and drifted back to sleep.

Qiu Sheng’s breathing gradually steadied, but Little Tong’s large, dark eyes remained wide open in the darkness.

She could smell Daddy’s scent.

Silently, Little Tong slipped out of bed. The wooden door of the villa was heavy and too big for her to pull open, so she simply vanished from sight and followed the trace of Daddy’s scent, reappearing in another villa not far away.

This villa wasn’t as warm and cozy as Grandma’s place. It was empty, cold, and lifeless. Little Tong, dressed in thin pajamas and barefoot, wandered through the rooms on her short legs.

Soon, she found Daddy in a bedroom with the door slightly ajar. He was curled up on his side, his head buried in the crook of his arm.

Little Tong didn’t wake him. Instead, she quietly retreated from the bedroom and continued exploring.

The house wasn’t just empty—it also lacked the comforting aroma of food, which made Little Tong uneasy.

Had Daddy fought with Mommy?

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Had he been kicked out?

Was he starving?

Standing in the dark, chilly kitchen, Little Tong felt a pang in her chest. She couldn’t quite put the feeling into words, but it made her unbearably sad.

She wanted to cry, just a little.

Closing the fridge door, she sighed and whispered to herself, "I should figure out how to get Daddy some food first."

The little chubby girl vanished from the spot and reappeared in another space—back at Grandma’s villa.

She found her small wagon and stood in front of it, stuffing snacks into her belly until her pajamas bulged and she couldn’t fit any more. Then, she returned to Daddy’s place.

She carefully arranged the snacks right outside Daddy’s bedroom door, so he’d see them as soon as he woke up the next morning.