Eating Melons in the Police Station

Zhong Jin looked at the cucumbers and carrots scattered haphazardly on the floor, then at the unlucky child kneeling with her hands behind her back, rolling her eyes and glaring at him. He could pretty much guess what she meant by "[Mom taught me]."

"Did Mom teach you not to play with the drawer, or else your hand would get squished like this?" Zhong Jin pointed at a cucumber broken in two.

Little Tong stared at him with her big, dark eyes and answered loudly, "Yes!"

Zhong Jin frowned at her sternly. "Then if you knew playing with the drawer was dangerous, why did you still do it?"

"Because it's fun," the child declared shamelessly, puffing up with confidence.

Zhong Jin: "......"

He stood there for a moment, hands hanging at his sides, then crouched down. He took Little Tong’s hand and placed it in the gap of the drawer. Then, with a quick push, he slid the drawer forward. Just as it was about to close, he yanked her hand out and stuck his own left index finger in instead.

When Zhong Jin pulled his hand back out, a small blood blister had already formed on the pad of his finger.

Little Tong was stunned. Her body stiffened, her tiny hands splayed helplessly at her sides.

Zhong Jin showed her his injured hand. "See? If your hand gets caught in the drawer, this is what happens."

"Does it hurt?" Little Tong asked.

Zhong Jin exaggerated his pain, clutching his hand and collapsing onto the floor. "It hurts so much I might die."

Little Tong rushed over, grabbed his hand, and blew on it gently. After a few puffs, tears welled up in her eyes, and a big drop landed right in Zhong Jin’s palm.

Zhong Jin asked her, "Will you play with the drawer again?"

Little Tong shook her head, tears still in her eyes. "Never again."

Zhong Jin sat up, pulled Little Tong onto his lap, and cleared the maimed vegetables from the floor. Then, he showed her how to use the drawer properly.

He pulled it open and closed it again. "See? When you use the drawer, your hands should never leave the handle. That way, they won’t get crushed."

"I see," Little Tong replied earnestly, twisting her hands together.

Zhong Jin closed the drawer and encouraged her, "Now you try."

Little Tong climbed off his lap, took two steps forward, then knelt down. With both hands gripping the drawer handle reverently, she pulled it open and muttered,

"I’ll put the panda inside. Then I’ll put the strawberries, bananas, and cheese sticks in too."

Then, holding the handle steady, she carefully pushed the drawer back until it clicked shut.

"Good job." Zhong Jin patted her head.

He picked up the vegetables from the floor and stood to leave. Little Tong trailed behind him like a shadow, tilting her head up to ask,

"Daddy, can we still eat this cucumber guy and carrot guy?"

"We can," Zhong Jin answered.

"But they’re squished, just like your hand."

Zhong ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍Jin replied calmly, "It’s fine. We’ll just make smashed cucumber salad."

After dinner, Zhong Jin cleaned up the kitchen and went to fetch Little Tong for her bath.

She was sitting on the couch, engrossed in a game on her tablet—a simple shop simulation where she played the vendor. When customers’ speech bubbles displayed food items, she had to tap the matching food to serve them and earn coins.

At first, when the tasks were easy, Little Tong managed just fine. But as the orders grew more complicated, she became flustered. Eventually, she gave up and started randomly tapping any food to hand to the customers.

The customers protested with loud "NOs," but Little Tong just raised a finger and lectured them seriously:

"You shouldn’t be picky."

Zhong Jin watched for a while, amused, before walking over and shutting off the game. Then he scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom.

"Can you bathe by yourself?" Zhong Jin asked.

Little Tong answered loudly, "Yes!"

Just as Zhong Jin turned to leave, she added, "Daddy, I want the pandas to bathe with me."

Since plush toys couldn’t get wet, Zhong Jin gathered a bunch of plastic and rubber toys instead—ducks, elephants, chubby sheep, and the like.

He also reminded her, "While you’re bathing, sing loudly so I can hear you from outside, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Little Tong said impatiently, shoving him out of the bathroom.

Zhong Jin stood outside the door for a moment, listening to her off-key singing. When he stepped further away and could no longer hear her, he dragged a chair over and sat right outside the bathroom to wait.

At first, Little Tong’s song seemed to be about a duck eating rice. Then it shifted to a little lamb, followed by something about balloons filled with water and soap.

Zhong Jin thought to himself, This kid’s got quite the imagination.

As he listened to her singing, he pulled out his phone and opened a financial report sent by the accounting department, reviewing the company’s performance last quarter.

Suddenly, a loud "POP!" came from the bathroom, cutting off Little Tong’s song mid-verse.

Zhong Jin immediately set his phone aside and pushed open the bathroom door.

The sight inside stunned him. The floor was flooded with soapy water, the air thick with fragrance. Dozens of shampoo and body wash bottles lay scattered around, even his own expensive shower gel among the casualties.

Little Tong stood there clutching a torn balloon fragment, while deflated balloons littered the floor. A stack of unused balloons sat on the small stool nearby.

Zhong Jin was baffled. "Where did you even get balloons?"

She had been in the bathroom for nearly half an hour—yet she hadn’t even undressed. Her oversized T-shirt was soaked through, clinging to her as she blinked at him with innocent eyes.

"Where did these come from?" Zhong Jin repeated.

Little Tong crouched down, picked up the rubber sheep, and pried open its belly. She pulled out a handful of balloons and offered them to him.

"Daddy, let’s play."

Zhong Jin: "......"

When he didn’t move, she added, "Daddy, I want a water balloon."

"You have to tie the balloon after filling it with water, or it’ll all leak out."

Little Tong handed him another balloon, bouncing excitedly. "Okay, okay! Then let’s play!"

Looking at her eager face, Zhong Jin sighed silently. He stepped barefoot into the shower, sat down fully clothed, and helped her fill the balloons with water, knotting the ends to make water bombs.

At first, Zhong Jin had only planned to make one balloon to satisfy her before getting her to bathe properly.

But under the barrage of her praise—"Daddy, you’re amazing!" "Daddy, I love you so much!" "Daddy, even Uncle can’t do this!"—he ended up filling the entire bathtub with water balloons.

Many of them were even loaded with body wash by Little Tong. When water was poured in, foam gushed out, covering Zhong Jin in honey-scented bubbles. Little Tong, delighted by her prank, collapsed onto the floor laughing uncontrollably.

By the time they finished playing, it was almost 11 p.m. The entire bottle of shower gel was empty, and only then did Little Tong finally tire herself out.

Zhong Jin carried her under the shower to rinse her off, dressed her in pajamas, dried her hair, and tucked her into bed. The chubby little girl, exhausted from play, hugged her pillow, wriggled into a comfortable position, and immediately fell asleep.

After finally settling the child, Zhong Jin went back to clean up the bathroom. Every balloon had to be popped to drain the water inside. He tossed the deflated balloons and the empty shower gel bottle into the trash, then sprayed down the bathroom with the showerhead.

By the time he finished cleaning and had taken his own shower, even his lower back was aching faintly.

After all, he was already 35—his stamina wasn’t what it had been in his twenties. At this age, taking care of a mischievous child alone was genuinely draining.

Before returning to his bedroom, Zhong Jin peeked into Little Tong’s room across the hall.

The bed was empty. The child who had been sleeping there just moments ago, hugging her pillow, was gone.

Zhong Jin thought to himself, Did she go looking for her mom? I’ll have to remind her not to use that ability so often—if someone notices, it’ll be trouble.

He was about to grab his phone and call Qiu Sheng to check when he stepped back and saw Little Tong sprawled across his own bed, fast asleep.

She must have been too tired—she hadn’t even made it fully onto the bed before dozing off, her tiny hands clutching the blanket, her feet still dangling midair.

Zhong Jin lifted her properly onto the bed, then noticed the pillow was too high. He went back to her room to fetch her smaller one.

Cradling the back of her head in his palm, he gently slid the pillow beneath her. The movement roused Little Tong, and she blinked up at him with big, bright eyes.

"Go back to sleep," Zhong Jin murmured, pressing her head lightly onto the pillow.

Little Tong grinned. "Dad, playing with water balloons was so fun, right?"

Zhong Jin rested his hand on her head. Hearing her say that, even if it meant cleaning up until midnight with an aching back, it was all worth it.

Adults might endure a little extra work in the moment, but these happy memories would stay with the child for life. Years later, when she grew up and faced hardships, remembering these moments—knowing she had been loved so surely—would heal her.

Jing City had been drizzling for days, and the sudden chill in the air lingered. Little Tong, bundled in a little trench coat and a knit hat, walked hand-in-hand with Qiu Sheng along the pedestrian street outside a café.

The gingko leaves, still damp from the rain and not yet swept away, clung wetly to the ground. Little Tong’s shoes were speckled with rainwater, the darkened patches making them look dirty.

She glanced down at her stained shoes, then up at the overcast sky, and sighed softly.

"Mom, sometimes I really don’t like this kind of heavy weather."

Qiu Sheng laughed—sometimes her daughter spoke like a poet.

"Mom doesn’t like it either," Qiu Sheng said suddenly. "How about we go on a trip? What do you think about seeing the ocean?"

Little Tong tilted her head. "Who’s the ocean?"

Qiu Sheng pulled out her phone and showed her pictures of the sea—sunlit, crystal-clear, dazzlingly blue. Instantly enchanted, Little Tong threw her hands up. "Let’s go see the ocean!"

True to her impulsive nature, Qiu Sheng booked the earliest flight to Haishan right then, not even bothering to go home for luggage. She hailed a cab straight to the airport with Little Tong in tow.

By noon, mother and daughter had been sighing over Jing City’s dreary rain. But before evening fell, they were already standing in the lavish suite of a seaside hotel in Haishan.

Qiu Sheng browsed an online store for clothes suited to the local weather. Since they hadn’t packed, she also added daily essentials from a few trusted brands to the cart.

Meanwhile, Little Tong knelt by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring in confusion at the equally gray sky outside.

After a while, she pushed herself up, toddled over to Qiu Sheng, and tugged at her knee.

"Mom, where’s the ocean?"

Qiu Sheng glanced outside at the misty rain. She hadn’t checked the forecast—of course Haishan was raining too.

But the weather app promised sunshine tomorrow. Maybe her daughter would get to see the ocean then.

Not wanting Little Tong to be too disappointed, Qiu Sheng looked up a Michelin-starred restaurant to take her to for dinner.

She hadn’t paid much attention when booking, but when the menu arrived, she realized—it was a vegetarian place.

Knowing her daughter was a full-blown carnivore, Qiu Sheng immediately suggested going somewhere else. But Little Tong, mesmerized by the colorful, artfully plated dishes, insisted on staying.

When the first course arrived—crispy yam chips—Little Tong eagerly plucked a piece from the edible flower garnish.

She expected the sweet, crunchy bite of a cookie. But after the first taste, her smile faded. Only her ingrained habit of not wasting food kept her chewing until she finished it.

The server, oblivious, leaned in. "Do you like it?"

Little Tong forced a polite grin. "Heh."

Undeterred, the server pressed, "Would you like another?"

Horrified, Little Tong waved her hands. "No, thank you!"

Next came a molecular gastronomy dish starring sea grapes. "This," the server announced, "is the taste of the ocean."

Little Tong frowned through every bite before whispering to Qiu Sheng, "Mom, I don’t think I like the ocean anymore."

Between courses, Qiu Sheng skimmed reviews and stumbled upon one that read:

After eating here, I finally understand why rich girls in novels get won over by some guy’s fried rice.

She promptly paid the bill and left, skipping the rest of the meal. Outside, she hailed a cab to a street food stall, where she and Little Tong feasted on skewers.

Little Tong gnawed on a juicy meat skewer, licking the drips from the stick. "Mom, you know when we were eating those pretty dishes earlier? It felt like it was raining in my heart."

"And now?" Qiu Sheng asked.

"Now it’s sunny!" Little Tong declared, her chubby cheeks smeared with sauce.

Qiu Sheng smiled. "Sweetheart, no matter what kind of life you want in the future, I’ll support you. Just promise me you won’t get swept away by someone’s bowl of fried rice, okay?"

Little Tong zeroed in on the key detail. "Mom, I want fried rice."

Qiu Sheng sighed. Too early for this talk—all she cares about is food.

On the second day in Haishan, the weather finally cleared. As Qiu Sheng drew back the curtains in the morning, the rising sun pierced through the mist, revealing the vast, crystalline blue of the distant sea.

Little Tong gasped, covering her mouth. "It's so beautiful—this sea!"

It was then that Qiu Sheng received a call from Zhong Jin. Seeing his name on the screen, she suddenly remembered—today was his day to take care of their daughter.

Knowing Zhong Jin as she did, Qiu Sheng was certain that if he found out they were in Haishan, he would fly over immediately. But right now, she only wanted to spend time alone with Little Tong. She had already booked a cruise for the day, planning to take her daughter fishing and enjoy fresh sashimi right on the boat.

She had no intention of letting Zhong Jin ruin the mood.

After letting the phone ring a few times, Qiu Sheng hung up and blocked his number. She then double-checked Little Tong’s wrist to ensure she hadn’t brought her child’s smartwatch—just to be certain Zhong Jin couldn’t reach her.

Little Tong blinked. "Mom, who was calling?"

"Someone unimportant," Qiu Sheng replied. "Come on, sweetheart, let’s get breakfast."

Little Tong guessed it was Zhong Jin. Gazing silently at the sea for a moment, she raised a finger and said seriously, "Mom, tell Uncle and the others to keep our secret."

"Right."

Qiu Sheng quickly sent messages to Qiu Chen and Aunt Liang, warning them not to worry or report them missing.

Zhong Jin couldn’t get through to Qiu Sheng no matter how many times he called. When he went to her place, Aunt Liang answered the door, saying only that Qiu Sheng had taken Little Tong on a trip—but refused to reveal their destination.

All day, his calls were met with the same automated message: "The number you are calling is busy."

Zhong Jin summoned Fang Weiyi to his office and demanded an explanation.

Fang Weiyi, unfazed, said, "You’ve been blocked."

"Are you sure?"

"If every call goes straight to 'busy,' then yes, you’re blocked." He paused, then added dryly, "My wife blocks me all the time. I’m an expert on this."

Zhong Jin waved him off. "Get out."

After wrapping up work, Zhong Jin strode out of the office, drove straight to Qiu Corporation, and confronted Qiu Chen.

Qiu Chen had already gone home, so Zhong Jin headed to his villa instead.

"You must know where Qiu Sheng is."

Zhong Jin sat sprawled on the plush leather sofa, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on Qiu Chen and Tao Siyuan.

The couple shook their heads. "We really don’t know. She just said she was going on a trip."

"They’ll be back in a few days."

"Just three to five days. Relax and wait at home."

Zhong Jin’s expression darkened. "Why isn’t Qiu Sheng answering my calls?"

Qiu Chen sighed. "If you were this intense, I wouldn’t pick up either. They’re just traveling—perfectly safe. They check in with us daily."

Zhong Jin gave a noncommittal hum but didn’t move. He remained planted on the sofa, arms still crossed, silently declaring he wouldn’t leave without answers.

"Zhong Jin, you’re a CEO. Have some dignity—you can’t just camp out here," Qiu Chen said.

Another hum. "I don’t need dignity. I need my daughter."

Out of options, Qiu Chen glanced at Tao Siyuan, who shrugged helplessly.

When dinner was served, Zhong Jin joined without hesitation. He even called his assistant to deliver pajamas and toiletries.

Qiu Chen dug out a bottle of prized Maotai, hoping to get Zhong Jin drunk and send him home. The pressure of having him loom like a creditor was unbearable.

"Drink?" Qiu Chen shook the bottle, two small cups in hand.

Zhong Jin sipped his soup and nodded.

Qiu Chen poured him a full cup.

"A toast—if not for Little Tong, we might never have sat down like this again."

Zhong Jin clinked his cup against Qiu Chen’s and drank.

"Another one," Qiu Chen said. "How do you still avoid socializing in business? I never see you at events."

Another clink. "Don’t like them."

"One more. How do you even make money this way?"

"Plenty."

Qiu Chen kept inventing reasons to toast, and soon, he was the one drunk.

Slumped over his phone, Qiu Chen began spamming red envelopes in group chats, grinning at the flood of "Thanks, boss!" messages.

Zhong Jin poured himself another drink and downed it in one go.

Tao Siyuan watched worriedly. "Zhong Jin, slow down. Qiu Sheng and Little Tong will be back soon. Let them have their time. You can take Little Tong on a trip next—Qiu Sheng won’t stop you."

Zhong Jin drank again, then pressed a hand over his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I have no family left. After my parents and Zhong Yan passed, I spent ten years alone. She’s my only family, my only daughter. Without her, I can’t breathe."

When he lowered his hand, his eyes were damp.

Tao Siyuan, soft-hearted, wiped her own tears. "Qiu Sheng warned us you’d play the victim. Said not to fall for it."

Zhong Jin’s sorrow vanished instantly.

Qiu Chen peered over. "Want a red envelope?"

"Go away."

Despite Zhong Jin’s efforts, Qiu Chen and Tao Siyuan stayed tight-lipped.

Slumped on the sofa, Zhong Jin stared at his packed bag, wondering if he’d really have to stay. His insomnia was bad enough—he’d never sleep in a strange bed.

Just then, the nanny brought out Qiu Tianle.

The baby, freshly fed but refusing to sleep without his mother, fussed in her arms as she paced the room, humming a lullaby.

Zhong Jin reached out. "Let me hold him."

The nanny glanced at Qiu Chen and, seeing no objection, handed the baby to Zhong Jin.

Zhong Jin cradled Qiu Tianle in his arms, gently swaying as he mimicked the nanny’s manner and began singing a lullaby.

Whether it was the off-key lullaby that lulled the baby to sleep or sheer coincidence, Qiu Tianle dozed off almost instantly in Zhong Jin’s embrace.

Once the child was asleep and carried away by the nanny, both Tao Siyuan and Qiu Chen let out a sigh of relief.

Zhong Jin, however, leaned back on the sofa and started singing another song entirely, completely absorbed in his performance. He transitioned from "Kiss My Baby" to "Hope," then launched into "How Could I Possibly Fall in Love with You."

He sang each heartfelt ballad with deep emotion, utterly indifferent to the suffering of those around him, one song after another.

Qiu Chen’s face turned green from the assault on his ears. He turned to Tao Siyuan and said, "Mom, maybe we should just tell him the truth."

Tao Siyuan was still hesitating when Zhong Jin suddenly belted out an unfiltered, ear-piercing high note, startling her so badly it could’ve been mistaken for a ghost wailing in agony.

Rubbing her throbbing temples, Madam Tao made an immediate decision: "Tell him. Under these circumstances, I believe Qiu Sheng would understand."