Chapter 19

Chapter 19

It was past eleven by the time Fang Bingxue finished setting up the external camera and downloading the communication software.

"Ms. Qin?"

He leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the blurry figure. "Can you hear me?"

There was a signal delay. After several seconds, Qin Sumei’s voice finally came through: "Yes, I can see you."

Fang Bingxue rested his chin on one hand, the other draped over the edge of the monitor, tilting his head with a grin. He looked nothing like a twenty-six-year-old adult, but rather like a little cub nuzzling into his mother’s embrace.

He said, "Mom, I miss you too."

Qin Sumei’s tears welled up instantly.

Separated by the internet and the screen, her shoulders trembled as she wept. In nearly thirty years of marriage to Fang Jun, Qin Sumei had never once set foot in her husband’s workplace, except for the occasional New Year’s Eve when Dr. Fang was on duty and she brought him holiday food. She was soft-hearted; after spending so much time with children, she couldn't bear to witness scenes of life and death.

Originally, Qin Sumei had hoped Fang Bingxue would pursue academia, becoming a researcher or a university professor. But her son chose the police academy instead. There was nothing she could do—she knew Fang Bingxue might seem obedient, but he had a strong will of his own. From then on, she began keeping vegetarian fasts on the first and fifteenth of every lunar month.

But the Bodhisattva didn’t protect every child.

No words could console such an irrevocable loss; any words felt feeble and hollow. Qin Sumei choked up as she spoke of that child, his name, and the little joys from his school days. Fang Bingxue listened quietly, occasionally asking a question or two.

They say that forgetting is the true death.

So Teacher Qin made an effort to remember.

But the tears still fell, and the sorrow remained.

"When the May Day holiday comes," Fang Bingxue said softly, "I’ll come home. I’ll bring you beef jerky and sweet fermented rice."

Qin Sumei’s voice was thick with emotion. "No need, it’s such a hassle for you to travel back and forth... Do you have work tomorrow? Where are you right now?"

Fang Bingxue stood up, showing the surroundings behind him. "An internet café. Don’t worry, it’s near my place—just a short walk back."

It was past midnight, and Qin Sumei urged her son to go to bed. After a few more reminders, she called out again, "...Xiao Bao."

Fang Bingxue responded, "Yeah, Mom."

"Don’t take this as nagging, but if you get the chance, find someone and settle down. At least have someone who cares about you," Qin Sumei sniffled. "But if you really haven’t met the right person, I won’t push you. Just stay safe and well."

The words weighed heavily on Fang Bingxue. After ending the call, he sat staring blankly for a long while.

He really wanted a cigarette.

He didn’t know what brand Zhou Xu had given him earlier, but the taste was harsh—perfect for his current mood. Forget cigarettes—Fang Bingxue even felt like drinking. A bottle of Hongchuan Tequ would do, something strong enough to burn away the sadness and tears.

With that thought, he shut down the computer and prepared to walk back. As he stood up, he noticed Zhou Xu’s jacket still draped over the sofa—thick and windproof.

Fang Bingxue picked it up and put it on.

Small towns could be inconvenient like that. The distances were just awkward—too short to justify driving, which would only lead to traffic, but long enough to tire out your legs. Fang Bingxue estimated it’d take about twenty minutes to walk back to the dorm.

A motorcycle would’ve been perfect—way easier.

Fang Bingxue wasn’t about to make life harder for himself. Though he’d only be here for a year, he decided to ask Ma Rui at work tomorrow where he could buy a used one. He could always sell it before leaving.

As he unlatched the door, it suddenly occurred to him—Zhou Xu had mentioned owning a garage. He’d definitely know!

The booth was different from the main hall. Whatever soundproofing they’d used made it dead quiet during the call, undisturbed by outside noise. But now, stepping out, he was immediately hit by the racket of video games—gunfire, explosions, and angry shouts.

Amid the chaos, a young man with dyed blond hair slammed his keyboard in frustration. "Fuck! Bunch of amateurs!"

Beside him, a buzz-cut guy with a cigarette dangling from his lips didn’t even glance at the stranger.

The blond guy grumbled, "Got headshot the second I spawned. Annoying as hell. Gonna get some instant noodles."

He stretched lazily, popping his knuckles before slouching toward the stairs. Just as he reached the landing, someone tapped his shoulder.

"The hell—?" The blond guy turned impatiently. "You’ve got the wrong guy."

Fang Bingxue casually rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling. "Come with me."

The guy froze, instinctively trying to bolt. But Fang Bingxue was faster—his left arm hooked around the guy’s throat while his right wrenched the blond’s arm backward, slamming him against the wall—

BANG!

A screwdriver clattered to the floor.

"Murder! Murder!" The blond guy shrank instantly, forced down by an unyielding pressure, his forehead pressed against the grimy stairwell wall. "Help!"

Hurried footsteps echoed from below as a staff member rushed up, broom in hand, only to see the blond guy writhing with his arms pinned behind his back, screaming like a stuck pig. Fang Bingxue kicked the screwdriver aside, knee planted in the guy’s back. "Move! Try moving again!"

He’d sensed something off about this guy.

Sure enough, while waiting for the police, Fang Bingxue found five phones, two IDs, and a pair of nylon gloves in the blond’s pockets.

The blond crouched, hands on his head, as a middle-aged man came upstairs, smiling broadly as he shook Fang’s hand. "Hello, we’ll fully cooperate with the police."

Fang Bingxue hesitated. "Uh, well..."

"Our boss isn’t in these days," the man said smoothly. "We’ve got surveillance—mainly covering the cashier and hallways. The footage’s decent quality, ready for copying if needed."

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Fang Bingxue smiled. "Just a concerned citizen here. You can tell the police all that later."

The man gave him a skeptical look but didn’t get a chance to respond before officers entered. Fang Bingxue stepped forward, whispering briefly to the lead officer, who nodded and turned his gaze to the blond guy in the corner.

Amid the gaming noise, Fang Bingxue slipped away unnoticed.

His steps paused at the front desk.

A girl with a ponytail looked up. "Yes?"

Fang Bingxue cleared his throat. "I’m... with Zhou Xu."

"Oh!" She brightened with recognition. "So it’s you."

Fang Bingxue blinked. "Huh?"

She smiled warmly. "No problem, follow me."

Leading him out of the internet café’s entrance, she gestured to a black car parked across the street.

"The boss said," she said, handing him a key. "It’s yours."

Fang Bingxue was stunned.

Wait—seriously? They just gave him a car?

This was way too thoughtful, almost... inappropriate.

He knew Zhou Xu might appear rough on the outside but was actually quite kind-hearted. Still, he wasn't usually this thoughtful. Besides, borrowing a car meant having to return it, which would require them to meet again at some point. Fang Bingxue felt oddly uncomfortable, though he couldn't explain why.

The girl added helpfully, "Oh, right. The boss also said you just need to pay fifty yuan for the ride. Call him tomorrow when you’re free, and he’ll send someone to pick it up."

Fang Bingxue was speechless.

He wanted to roll his eyes. Fifty yuan for a twenty-minute walk?

The girl still held out her hand, looking at him expectantly. Fang Bingxue had been busy all night and was genuinely tired, so he took the car key, sighed, and handed over fifty yuan.

In the dim light, the girl grinned. "Remember to call the boss, okay?"

"Sure," Fang Bingxue was about to turn away when he suddenly remembered, "What’s Zhou Xu’s number?"

He gripped the car key in his palm. "Go ahead, I’ll jot it down."

But the next day, Fang Bingxue didn’t call Zhou Xu.

The recurring theft cases at the train station were being discussed again, and this time, the case was more complicated. The criminals were disguising themselves as disabled individuals, acting as lookouts while pressuring people for donations. Investigations revealed that this was an organized gang with multiple members, operating in multiple areas for a long time—already qualifying as a major criminal operation.

There might even be violent coercion and unlawful confinement involved.

He didn’t contact Zhou Xu, and Zhou Xu didn’t call him either. Occasionally, during short breaks from work, Fang Bingxue reminded himself to call after clocking out. But something so simple ended up slipping his mind completely—quietly, unnoticed.

It wasn’t that he was lazy or procrastinating. The truth was, Fang Bingxue had been crashing at the office these past two days.

During the investigation phase, to prevent information leaks and confirm the core members of the gang, Fang Bingxue had the fingerprints sent to his original unit for cross-referencing at the tech center. At the same time, he had to lead training sessions—one of his objectives for this assignment was to leave behind three "permanent" technical experts before his departure.

During dinner, Ma Rui returned with a bag of treats and respectfully handed it over. "Teacher Fang, try these honey cakes."

Fang Bingxue looked up blankly. Ma Rui quickly added, "They’re good! Just bought them from the store—no water, no sugar, pure honey!"

Without another word, Fang Bingxue picked one up and ate it. It was a classic sponge cake, lightly sweetened, not greasy, with a sprinkle of black sesame seeds—though a bit dry. As soon as he pulled out a tissue to wipe his hands, a glass of water was promptly handed to him.

Ma Rui grinned eagerly, like an eager puppy. It was no wonder he was trying so hard to please—Fang Bingxue had been particularly stern these past few days.

Unlike Li Wenbin, who would yell and slam tables, Fang Bingxue would calmly scan the team after finishing his instructions and ask, "Any questions?"

The seated members would exchange hesitant glances.

Fang Bingxue put down his pen. "Alright, if there are no questions, I’ll have each of you go over the plan again."

He was so meticulous with the details that Ma Rui felt like he was back in high school, nervously standing at the blackboard while the teacher graded his work on the spot—then immediately assigned a similar problem for further testing.

"Teacher Fang," Ma Rui slouched onto the table, resting his chin on its surface. "When are we closing this case?"

He knew Fang Bingxue wasn’t in charge of operational planning, but he couldn’t help muttering. To his surprise, Fang Bingxue sipped his water leisurely and replied, "In the next couple of days."

Ma Rui’s eyes lit up. "Really?"

He had been overworked lately, and the gang was too cunning. Director Li had targeted them before but couldn’t gather enough evidence. Now that they were close to taking them all down, Ma Rui couldn’t wait.

Fang Bingxue screwed the cap back on his bottle and gave him a look. "Stay focused."

Ma Rui scratched his head and chuckled. "Let’s just finish this job already. I’m... a little afraid of you now."

"Want to switch?"

Xiao Li barged in energetically and dropped a stack of files onto the table. "You go stake out with my mentor, and I’ll work with Xuebing—wait, is my mentor not here?"

Fang Bingxue nodded toward him. "Over there, sitting on the couch behind you."

Xiao Li jumped. "Whoa!"

He whipped his head around so fast his glasses nearly flew off. Holding his chest, he turned back. "Teacher Fang, you scared me!"

Fang Bingxue just chuckled.

The playful banter eased the tension. After all, they were all young—a quick wash-up was enough to recharge them. Once Xiao Li finished discussing work, he casually remarked, "That jacket looks nice. Where’d you get it?"

After working together for over a month, Fang Bingxue had realized Xiao Li had the typical engineer's taste when it came to fashion—aside from his uniform, his wardrobe consisted of identical plaid shirts, plain white tees, and the occasional solid-colored workwear. So... Fang Bingxue followed Xiao Li’s gaze to his own lap.

There lay a black denim jacket—loose-fit, no patterns, sturdy fabric, decent quality.

Fang Bingxue winced slightly.

He had completely forgotten how he'd gotten it. There were two hooks on the wall where everyone hung their coats, but this one was slightly too big for him. Not that Fang Bingxue was slender—he was a top police academy graduate with toned but not bulky muscles, a trim waist, and long legs. It was just that Zhou Xu had a much broader frame, so any officer passing by could instantly tell this wasn’t Fang Bingxue’s jacket.

There was another reason, though—when napping in the office at night, using it as a pillow was just the right height.

Fang Bingxue planned to wash it and return it to Zhou Xu in a couple of days.

And since it was already dirty, using it to protect his pants from crumbs while eating the sponge cake wasn’t too bad, right?

Tasty as it was, the cake was crumbly.

He had already shaken it out over the trash can.

Feeling guilty, Fang Bingxue grunted noncommittally and tried to brush off the topic, deciding to wash the jacket and fill the gas tank tonight—no more forgetting.

But Xiao Li, apparently with some free time now, leaned against the table and chatted with Ma Rui. "Remember how Xuebing rarely wears black? I always thought pale people look better in lighter colors."

Ma Rui nodded. "Dust and sand stain light clothes too easily. My white sneakers get filthy after two days. Bet you anything he’ll switch styles if he stays here long enough."

"True," Xiao Li agreed. "But black looks good too—kinda cool."

Fang Bingxue propped his chin on his hand. "Nah, I wear all colors, haha."

Ma Rui raised an eyebrow. "Even pink?"

"Sure, I’ve got a few pink shirts."

It was true. The joke about him being a "pretty boy" started when he once wore a pink shirt on a mission. Officer Xiao Fang, dashing with slicked-back hair and sunglasses, a black tie with red floral patterns, the shirt tucked into his narrow waist, sauntered into a bar’s private room on long legs, flashing a smile that left everyone staring—a textbook pretty boy.

Of course, his colleagues teased him afterward for being "flamboyant."

Even after two nights in the office, he didn’t look disheveled—just a faint shadow under his eyes. Fang Bingxue rubbed the denim jacket and grinned. "Call it versatility."

On his way home after work, Fang Bingxue thought, *No more delays—gotta return this stuff ASAP.*

After two straight days of desk work, his whole body ached. Locking the door and kicking off his shoes, he unbuttoned his shirt while dialing Zhou Xu’s number.

Even though it was past 10 p.m., he had a feeling Zhou Xu might still be awake.

But the call rang until it disconnected automatically—no answer.

Fang Bingxue didn’t redial. Tossing his phone onto the table, he headed off. Finally able to rest tonight, all he wanted was a quick shower and sleep.

He preferred to set the water temperature a bit lower, finding it refreshing and comfortable—not scalding enough to make him lethargic. Fang Bingxue liked this sense of "being in control," which gave him a feeling of security.

Fresh out of the shower, before bothering to dry his hair, Fang Bingxue stood in front of the mirror putting on lotion. Just as he dotted the white cream onto his cheeks, his phone rang.

Grabbing it, he saw it was Zhou Xu calling.

His voice was a little raspy from the steam: "Hello?"

There was a brief silence on the other end before the reply came: "Fang Bingxue?"

"Yeah, Bro Xu," Fang Bingxue kept working the cream into his face without pause. "When’s a good time for you? I’ll return your car."

Zhou Xu had originally said he’d call when he had time and have someone swing by to get it, but Fang Bingxue didn’t want to reveal where he lived. Eyeing the wall clock, he added, "How about the day after tomorrow?"

That would be Saturday. The clothes he’d washed would be dry by then, and he could drop them off early in the morning while also asking about buying a motorcycle.

"Works for me," Zhou Xu replied, the background clatter placing him at a pool hall—the crack of colliding balls audible. "If you’re busy, I can come get it now."

Fang Bingxue said, "No, it’s too late."

"Sleeping so early." The man’s chuckle came through the phone, slightly slurred and playful, likely from drinking. The trailing tone, light and teasing, seeped into Fang Bingxue’s ear despite the distance and noise.

There were clearly quite a few friends around—Fang Bingxue could hear someone goading Zhou Xu on, asking who it was and telling him to invite the person out to join them.

But a few seconds later, the clamor faded, probably because Zhou Xu had stepped outside. A door hinge creaked faintly.

Zhou Xu said, "Alright, the day after tomorrow then."

Fang Bingxue held the phone. "Sounds good. Oh, by the way—are you still running fever?"

"Nah, it’s gone. I’m fine now."

"That’s good."

Yet even after that, neither of them hung up. Strangely, Fang Bingxue still felt like Zhou Xu’s voice carried a residual heat.

"What are you up to right now?"

"Just finished showering," Fang Bingxue said, now finished with his routine. "About to sleep."

A soft "oh" came from the other end. Zhou Xu really must’ve been drinking—his words slightly slurry—because he followed up with, "Did you shower alone?"

Fang Bingxue stiffened, momentarily thrown, when Zhou Xu immediately backtracked: "Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry, I’ve had too much to drink."

The crowd noise bled away, leaving only breathing and the faint whistle of wind in the receiver.

Zhou Xu repeated, "My bad. Wrong thing to say."

Fang Bingxue replied, "It’s fine."

But Zhou Xu seemed actually remorseful about the slip. After a pause, he added, "Really sorry. Want to curse me out or something?"

That was unnecessary. Between dudes, a little teasing was nothing—heck, this barely counted as teasing. Fang Bingxue didn’t feel offended; if anything, he found it amusing. Drunk Zhou Xu was unexpectedly earnest and easy to mess with.

He deliberately put on a stern voice: "No need. Let’s just leave it at that."

The other end fell silent.

"Alright, I gotta sleep," Fang Bingxue couldn’t suppress a snicker. "You should rest too... dumbass."

Zhou Xu said, "Yeah."