Eating Melons in the Police Station

Qiu Sheng took Zhong Jin's cup and refilled it with warm water.

Seeing Zhong Jin take a sip and wince slightly as he swallowed, Qiu Sheng knew his throat must be in serious pain.

Zhong Jin was someone who could endure pain well. As a police officer, injuries were a common occurrence. Qiu Sheng often winced just looking at his wounds, but he always acted as if they were nothing.

If something made him frown, it must have been truly excruciating.

Qiu Sheng had once seen someone online describe a sore throat as "swallowing razor blades." She figured Zhong Jin must have reached that stage by now.

After watching him drink half the cup, Qiu Sheng said, "I’ll go out and get you some breakfast. You should eat something before taking your medicine. What would you like?"

Zhong Jin, perhaps feeling a bit embarrassed after his earlier coughing fit, refused to speak. Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent Qiu Sheng a message:

【Something light, like plain congee. I can’t handle anything else.】

"Alright," Qiu Sheng replied after reading the message. "I’ll take Little Tong with me. You rest well."

The little girl, worried about her sick father, followed Qiu Sheng on her scooter, chattering away with instructions.

"Get some steamed buns, and fry them. That’s all we need."

Qiu Sheng had the time and patience today, so she engaged in a long conversation with the child, though she couldn’t quite figure out what "frying steamed buns" meant.

Eventually, Little Tong took charge, driving her scooter to the bus stop where an old man sold steamed buns.

The old man had a heavy accent. Zhong Jin, being a police officer, was used to dealing with people from all over the country and could understand him, but Qiu Sheng struggled.

With the help of a few kind-hearted women nearby, Qiu Sheng finally managed to piece together what he was saying.

Slicing and frying steamed buns was a remedy for indigestion.

Qiu Sheng guessed that Little Tong must have had indigestion before, and Zhong Jin had prepared fried buns for her. Now, the child assumed that fried buns were the cure for all illnesses.

But with Zhong Jin’s current "razor blade throat," feeding him dry, crispy fried buns would be torture.

This kid was truly her father’s little angel—bound to be the death of him one day.

Qiu Sheng bought a few steamed buns, hung them on Little Tong’s scooter handle, and continued on their way to a porridge shop.

Little Tong, still on her scooter, fretted that her dad wouldn’t get better without his fried buns.

The area was a bit crowded, so Qiu Sheng held onto the scooter handle as she patiently explained to the child that her dad’s illness was different from hers, and fried buns wouldn’t help.

After a moment of silence, Little Tong had an epiphany. "Does he need to drink more water?"

"Yes, he needs to drink plenty of water," Qiu Sheng confirmed as they entered the porridge shop.

Zhong Jin had said he could only stomach plain congee, but Qiu Sheng briefly considered whether pork congee might be more nutritious. She quickly dismissed the thought, though.

She ordered the plain congee Zhong Jin had requested, while she chose a crab roe porridge loaded with shrimp.

Qiu Sheng’s parents had been strict with her, controlling every aspect of her life, from studies to daily routines. This had led her to believe that loving someone meant giving them what she thought was best.

It took Zhong Jin a long time to teach her that respect was more important than love.

For example, she disliked cooking and household chores, and Zhong Jin never complained or pressured her about it.

During their marriage, she had become a carefree girl, receiving the unconditional love she had never gotten from her parents.

But life took a sudden turn, and both of them faced terrible hardships. Qiu Sheng knew Zhong Jin had fallen into a deep abyss, and she herself was lost in the darkness.

And so, they drifted apart.

Yet, many of the habits from those days remained.

Like today’s plain congee—a lesson in respect that Zhong Jin had taught her.

The shop owner handed over the packed porridge, and Qiu Sheng hung it on Little Tong’s scooter handle before guiding her out.

Just as they stepped outside, someone called out, "Little Tong!"

Qiu Sheng turned to see a middle-aged woman with a gentle, kind demeanor.

The woman smiled warmly and called again, "Little Tong!"

The child on the scooter suddenly recognized her and exclaimed, "Aunt Liang!" before jumping off her scooter and running over to hug the woman’s legs.

"Where have you been? Why haven’t you come to see me?" Little Tong asked, looking up with a barrage of questions.

Aunt Liang placed her hands on Little Tong’s shoulders and smiled at Qiu Sheng. "Hello, I’m Aunt Liang. I used to take care of Little Tong."

Qiu Sheng was slightly surprised. Zhong Jin had hired a nanny? He had always been reluctant to have outsiders in the house.

"Hello, I’m Little Tong’s mother, Qiu Sheng," she replied with a friendly smile.

"Are you heading back to the neighborhood? I’m going that way too. I’ll walk with you," Aunt Liang offered, holding Little Tong’s hand. The child seemed very attached to her, even nuzzling her face against Aunt Liang’s hand.

As they walked, the conversation naturally turned to a key question.

Qiu Sheng asked, "Aunt Liang, why did you stop taking care of Little Tong?"

Aunt Liang’s smile faded, but she didn’t hold back. She explained what had happened during the typhoon and even apologized sincerely to Qiu Sheng.

"Every time I think about it, my heart burns with regret. How could I have let such a thing happen?"

"How is your mother now?" Qiu Sheng inquired.

"She’s fine now. Since my mom’s health isn’t great, I’ve learned some first aid. When I got home, the ambulance hadn’t arrived yet, so I performed CPR and rescue breathing. By the time the paramedics came, they said our quick actions had made all the difference."

"That’s good. As long as everyone’s okay, that’s what matters most."

By the time they reached the neighborhood gate, Aunt Liang stopped. "I won’t go in."

She let go of Little Tong’s hand. "Goodbye, Little Tong."

But the child clung to her. "Come home with us. My dad’s sick. You should see him."

"What’s wrong with Mr. Zhong?"

Qiu Sheng explained, "He’s been overworking himself. He had a fever and a sore throat yesterday, but it’s nothing serious."

Aunt Liang glanced at the porridge Qiu Sheng was carrying.

"A fever and sore throat mean there’s internal heat. Just congee won’t be enough. You should make some pear soup—simmer duck pears, snow fungus, dried tangerine peel, red dates, preserved plums, and goji berries for about 40 minutes until the snow fungus turns gelatinous. Oh, and add the goji berries last, or they’ll overcook."

Qiu Sheng looked utterly lost.

For someone who had never set foot in a kitchen, the list of ingredients was overwhelming.

Aunt Liang noticed her confusion. "You’ve never cooked, have you? I’ll go home and make a batch. I’ll bring it over when it’s ready."

Qiu Sheng didn’t hesitate, as if afraid Aunt Liang might change her mind. She quickly thanked her and added her on WeChat to transfer money for the ingredients.

Aunt Liang declined the payment, saying she already had everything at home. She waved at Little Tong. "Bye, Little Tong."

The child, still on her scooter, shouted, "I want some too!"

Aunt Liang turned back, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "You little glutton."

*

Zhong Jin grimaced as he finished half a bowl of plain congee, took his medicine, and went back to bed.

It was Saturday, so Little Tong didn’t have school. Qiu Sheng let her sit on the living room carpet and watch cartoons for half an hour while she worked on doll clothing designs at the dining table.

When the timer went off, Little Tong turned off the TV herself.

The child, with her little hands tucked in, lay on the carpet for a while. Feeling bored, she rolled over, her back pressed against the carpet, her little belly exposed as she giggled and rolled around.

"Mom, look at me, I'm so funny!"

At first, Qiu Sheng would play along, saying things like, "You're so cute," or "Haha," but after a few rounds, her train of thought was completely derailed.

She went to the wardrobe and found a doll. She assembled the doll's head and body, dressed it in a dress and wig sent by the company, and handed the little doll to Little Tong.

"This is your baby. You need to take good care of her today, okay?"

Little Tong took the doll in both hands and hugged it to her chest, immediately slipping into her role. "My baby says she's hungry."

"Okay, then you need to prepare some food for her," Qiu Sheng said, patting her head before returning to her computer to continue working.

Little Tong carried the doll to the sofa, laid it down, and covered it with her own little blanket. Then she grabbed a bottle of yogurt from the coffee table and ran back to Qiu Sheng.

"Open it for me."

Once again, Qiu Sheng's thoughts were interrupted, but she patiently helped insert the straw into the yogurt bottle.

Little Tong went back to the sofa, held the straw to the doll's mouth, and said, "Here's your milk, drink up."

Of course, the doll couldn't drink the yogurt.

She ran back to her mom. "Mom, she won't drink the yogurt."

Qiu Sheng's eyes stayed fixed on the computer screen. "Well, if she won't drink it, you can."

When Little Tong came running over for the Nth time, leaning on the edge of the dining table, looking up at her and talking about the doll, Qiu Sheng was on the verge of losing it.

So she did something rather unkind. She said, "Sweetie, the doll might be sleepy. Why don't you take her to sleep with Daddy?"

Little Tong carried the doll into the bedroom and, with a dramatic flourish, tossed it onto the bed, where it landed squarely on Zhong Jin's head. He let out a startled "Gah!"

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‍child didn't seem to care. She grabbed the blanket with both hands, swung one leg onto the bed, and used the other foot to push off the floor, successfully climbing onto the bed.

She hugged her doll, leaned against the pillow, and lay on top of the blanket.

When Zhong Jin tried to turn over, he found the blanket pinned down by the solid weight of the little human. He tugged a few times but couldn't free the blanket, so he gave up and stayed lying flat.

Little Tong lay on the blanket for a while but couldn't fall asleep. Soon, she was bored again.

She rolled over, lying on Zhong Jin's chest, and lifted his eyelids to peek inside. Then she pinched the tip of his nose and ran her little fingers over the stubble on his chin, murmuring softly,

"It's biting my hand."

Probably referring to the prickly stubble.

The way children talk is just so adorable.

Zhong Jin almost laughed, but if he did, the child would know he was awake, and that would be the end of it. So he held it in.

Little Tong then rubbed her face against Zhong Jin's chin, the softness of her cheek meeting the roughness of his stubble, making her giggle uncontrollably.

After playing with the stubble for a while, she suddenly grabbed Zhong Jin's nose and tried to pull it down, as if to make it touch his own chin.

But how could a living person possibly do that?

The father, who had been pretending to sleep, immediately let out a series of "Gah gah gah" sounds.

Qiu Sheng put down her laptop again and walked in. "What are you gah-ing about now? Do you need water? If you need water, gah once."

Zhong Jin replied, "Gah gah gah gah gah gah gah."

The mischievous child sat on Zhong Jin's stomach, her head lowered as she leaned against his chest, quietly laughing.

"He says, 'Get this little rascal out of here.'"