Chapter 13#

Chapter 13#

Climbing into that beat-up black Santana, I looked up and saw that Li Yi in the driver’s seat was actually wearing a suit. A brownish-gray jacket, and he’d even put on a chestnut-colored tie.

“Not bad, Detective Li, looking sharp,” I teased deliberately, reaching over to pull the seatbelt and buckle up.

But Li Yi didn’t start the car right away. He kept staring at me, frowning as he looked me up and down.

I felt a chill run down my spine. “What are you looking at?”

“Bro, we’re cops, at least. We’re about to head into rich people’s territory, and you’re dressed like this?” Li Yi tugged at my jacket, flapping it open and closed, looking like a teacher disappointed in a slow student. “This old-man style—only geezers wear this. Did you snag it from a clearance sale again?”

“The style is a bit dated,” I hedged. That day I’d been too slow—the most suitable tracksuit had been grabbed by an old lady next to me, so I settled for this light beige jacket. I bought it one size too big; I had to cinch it tight whenever I went out, otherwise the wind would fill it up and make me look like a fat lantern. Li Yi had always looked down on my taste; he thought I was way too frugal. I could never argue him down, so I just fell back on the same old spiel. “But hey, at least it’s durable. We’re cops—if we dress too well and accidentally rip or stain something, that’s money down the drain.”

“Fine, fine, then Detective Yu, you go ahead and get kicked out by security. I’ll walk in alone and get myself killed,” Li Yi said, barely holding back an eye roll. He turned the key, and the engine sputtered and roared to life, the whole seat vibrating with it. An old car, sluggish and clunky—took forever to start. He added, “Hold tight!”

Li Yi always drove like he was in a police chase. The harbor district was windy at night; I rolled the window halfway down, and the slightly salty, damp sea wind immediately flooded the car.

His hair had grown longer, slicked back with mousse to reveal a full forehead. His eyes were lighter than most people’s too. Occasionally, headlights from oncoming cars flashed past, and from the side, I could see golden-orange glints reflected in his pupils. And today, with his suave outfit—effortlessly cool and lazy at the same time—he could go toe-to-toe with any of those rich young masters on TV.

Li Yi yelled, “Hey, open the window that wide, and you’ll be full of wind!”

I grinned and teased him, “Yes, sir, whatever the young master says. Closing it now.”

Li Yi was never one to get embarrassed. He raised an eyebrow smugly, the corners of his mouth curling up. We were both in a good mood.

We had braced ourselves mentally for the rich and powerful to make things difficult for us, but we never expected we wouldn’t even get into the banquet hall.

Li Yi was right—if you’re not dressed in formal wear, even if the superintendent himself showed up, they wouldn’t let him in.

The greeter at the door had a pair of smiling eyes, a black bow tie at his collar, white silk gloves, hands folded in front of him. He seemed to know everyone’s name. Backlit by the brilliant lights inside the banquet hall, he looked very approachable. We stood in the flow of people, surrounded by impeccably dressed, glittering upper-class attendees. When we pulled out our badges, our hands were even trembling a bit.

The greeter gave our IDs a quick glance and said with a smile, “Both officers’ names are indeed on the list.”

Li Yi and I let out a simultaneous breath. Our superiors had finally come through for once, managing to notify the party host in advance.

Just as the stone in our hearts had settled, the greeter picked it back up with a single deft move. He shifted his tone: “But whether you’re officers or not isn’t the issue. What matters is dressing properly.”

He looked at me, a faint trace of disdain in his smile.

And so, the two of us stood sheepishly off to the side, watching the crowd flow by, looking less imposing than the black-suited bodyguards. A full ten minutes passed, and then Li Yi suddenly patted my arm. He’d been staring at the greeter the whole time. He leaned in and whispered, “Look at that guy—he’s been smiling the whole time, never any other expression, like a robot.”

I lowered my voice and said, “No way. He rolled his eyes at us just now.”

Li Yi gave me a look of utter speechlessness.

Guilty, I didn’t dare meet his eyes. “Alright, alright, let’s get out of here. Let’s go get some braised pork rice. I thought we’d have a big meal tonight, so I purposely didn’t eat.”

“Even if we can’t find anything definite tonight,” Li Yi said, not taking the bait, “if we could get in, just to see the people and familiarize ourselves with their faces, that would still be worthwhile. This opportunity is rare.”

I knew Li Yi had ambition. The harbor city had seemed peaceful and stable these past years, but it was gold on the outside, rotten within—like a skyscraper towering high, its glass gleaming like diamonds, grandly piercing the clouds, while underneath, it had been corroded by termites into a steel skeleton. Li Yi wasn’t foolish enough to want to save the world, but he did have a hero’s dream. He wanted to be like a sharp sword, plunging into the heart of this beautiful corpse.

I had no reason not to help him. I looked at him and noticed he was already a bit taller than me. “If you go in alone, be careful.”

He was overjoyed. He gave me a big hug, didn’t say another word, and strode back over to the greeter in two or three steps, one hand in his pocket, the other holding out his ID. The greeter’s smile remained perfectly intact. He gave a slight bow and let Li Yi in.

Li Yi turned back as he reached the top step. I waved at him. He gave a small nod and then walked briskly into the light.

Only after his figure disappeared did I look down at my own outfit. My pants were dress slacks, and I had a shirt on, but this jacket—it was a mismatched, shabby mess. No wonder Li Yi made fun of me. I twirled the car keys in my hand and thought, looks like tonight it’s just me and that Santana.

I was about to leave when I suddenly heard someone loudly reading my name.

“Yu, Fu, Chao, Police Officer.”

I turned around and saw a few young men in suits gathered around the greeter, looking at the guest list. They were clearly rich playboys. A couple of them even looked vaguely familiar—probably those second-generation rich kids who always showed up in the evening paper gossip columns. They were laughing and joking, clamoring to ask the greeter, “Hey, Ah Wai, how come there are cops on the list? Two of them? Did the police station run out of food and want the Zhang family to do charity?”

The greeter, named Ah Wai, lowered his head slightly. “They were arranged at the last minute. I’m not too clear.”

“Did they get in?”

“One of them did.”

“Only one? What about the other?”

When I heard that, I knew trouble was coming. I turned to bolt, but human legs can’t outrun human eyes. Ah Wai must have pointed me out, because the group of rich brats suddenly burst into laughter. They must have spotted me. I’d been mocked too many times in my life, from childhood to adulthood—I knew well the fickleness of the world. I shouldn’t have let it bother me, but the sound of footsteps closing in behind me sent a chill down my spine. Laughter was getting closer, and so were they. These overgrown babies, their greatest hobby in life was eating, drinking, and having fun. Born with silver spoons in their mouths, every single one of them came from families you didn’t want to mess with. What they ate, drank, and played with was beyond ordinary imagination. If they caught me, there was no telling what would happen.

I was about to run when a hand landed on my back, trying to forcefully turn me around. By now I was in a corner, far from the crowd. In my head, I was calculating: if I fought back now, which parts of their bodies should I hit so their doting parents wouldn’t come to the police station to complain about me?

I took a deep breath, turned around, and sure enough, saw the faces of those young men. I took the initiative: “Everyone—”

Before I could finish, a lazy call came from a distance: “What’s going on?”

The rich brats turned their heads in unison. When they saw who it was, they immediately let go of my collar and turned to greet him. One of them asked in surprise, “Hey, Brother Mingsheng, we thought you weren’t coming.”

I followed their gaze and saw only a tall man. In police academy, I’d seen countless outstanding-looking men, but I’d never seen anyone as extraordinarily handsome as him. He wore a sharply tailored, elegant yet understated black suit with a dark red tie. Aside from a watch on his left wrist and a diamond-studded “Z” brooch on his chest, he had no other adornments. He seemed to be well-liked by this group of rich brats; they surrounded him, and even the banquet guests kept glancing over.

He smiled, but his voice carried a hint of resignation. “My aunt asked me to deliver a gift, so I had no choice but to come.”

“It’s good that you’re here. Mr. Zhang will be delighted to see you,” said a boy in a cobalt blue suit.

But the man didn’t take the bait. He just smiled and didn’t continue the topic. Instead, he asked, “What are you up to? Bullying someone?”

One of the playboys grinned roguishly. “On such a fine day, we wouldn’t dare cause trouble. We just saw that this officer was invited but didn’t have proper attire, and we wanted to see if he needed our help.”

I had been staring at the man, lost in thought, and missed another chance to slip away. I had no choice but to stand there stiffly, letting them look me over. Let them look—it’s not like I’d lose a chunk of flesh.

But to my surprise, it seemed like he was just going to take a look and leave. Instead, he walked toward me, his eyes on me as he said, “You all go on in.”

Somehow, after he spoke, those little rascals actually obeyed, turned around, and left, leaving him alone striding toward me. I didn’t dare move, so I just stood there. But unexpectedly, he walked right past me.

In that moment as we brushed past each other, I caught a pleasant scent that reminded me of temples and forests. Before I could react, I felt my hand seized firmly by this man. His large hand gripped my wrist and, without explanation, dragged me forward. I stumbled and nearly fell. He walked fast, with long, confident strides, as gracefully and steadily as if he were on a runway. I yelled at him, “What do you think you’re doing? I’m a police officer.”

“Yeah, I know. I found out just now—you’re Officer Yu.”

“This is assaulting a police officer.”

“Officer, did I hit you? If you make a move now, I’ll be the one filing a complaint for assaulting a civilian.”

Those words left me speechless. I had no choice but to follow him. Ahead was a dark, unlit corner; another turn led to a garden. In the distance, behind the glass walls of the magnificent building, the upper-class guests were clinking glasses. Wearing my cheap jacket from a clearance sale, I followed this handsome man into the lush, tree-shaded garden. Night had fallen, and pale blue moonlight poured down, illuminating the man’s profile.

Suddenly, I could see his features more clearly.

He wasn’t as mature as I’d thought—under thirty, with black hair and black eyes, a high straight nose, deep-set brows and eyes, and when he smiled, there was a touch of youthful, spirited innocence.

I watched him take off his suit jacket and toss it straight to me. Instantly, my nostrils were filled with the scent I’d smelled before. Still dazed, I saw him start to undo his tie. He pulled it off and tossed it to me as well.

Then, button by button, he began to unbutton his shirt. Collarbones, muscle lines, waist—he revealed himself inch by inch. I caught a glimpse of his athletic build and felt my ears burn red.

I liked men, yes, but I didn’t exactly have my sexuality written on my face. And he was indeed handsome, very much my type. But still, you can’t just start taking off your clothes all of a sudden.

I stammered, pointing at him, “You… you…”

He looked at me, but not into my eyes. He glanced down at me. “Since you’re wearing it, I’ll keep the shirt on.”

Then he buttoned it back up.

I still had no idea what he meant.

Finally, he deigned to remind me: “Officer, hurry up and put it on.”

The moonlight was cold, casting two points of light into his eyes. His gaze, just like the moonlight, fell on me faintly.

I couldn’t describe how I felt at that moment. I had never met anyone like him. It wasn’t quite a flutter, nor could I say I liked him—it was more like a slight tremor in my heart, as if a crack had been pried open in a wall that had been airtight, giving me a glimpse of a dazzling world beyond my own life.

Was he helping me? Why?

He helped me take off my jacket, and I turned around in a daze. He was half a head taller than me, with a solid build and a broader frame. His suit hung a bit loose on me. The fabric was high quality—when my fingers brushed over it, it felt thick and heavy, yet when it had been on him, it had looked so thin.

He helped me put it on and then patiently tied my tie for me. As his fingers moved, he lowered his eyelashes and asked, “Officer, you guys risk your lives every day—how much do you get paid?”

My brain short-circuited again. I only managed one word: “Huh?”

“Is it very little, not enough to eat?” He finished tying the tie and smoothed it down with his fingers. “Otherwise, why are you so skinny?”

Before I could answer, he took half a step back to look at me, then smiled slightly. “The ladies are already tired of seeing us rich brats. Having such a handsome officer here, they’ll be thrilled.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I said, my ears still burning, smiling back at him. “What about you, then?”

“I never liked coming to these kinds of occasions anyway. Everyone is so hypocritical and boring,” he said frankly, adding a touch of playfulness. “To be honest, the people I admire most are cops. I hope someday, Officer, you can arrest everyone inside.”

I knew he was joking, and I grinned even wider.

“Since Officer has taken my clothes, then this one belongs to me,” he said, picking up my jacket and putting it on. On me it was too big; on him, it fit just right.

It was clearly an out-of-season style from a fifty-percent-off clearance sale, but on him it looked classy. People were really different.

A gentle breeze blew, the air was fresh—the perfect time for honesty. But my stomach spoke before my tongue could, growling loudly, making my face turn red.

He didn’t laugh at me. He just said softly, “There are plenty of desserts inside. I don’t know if you like sweets, Officer Yu.”

“I actually don’t eat them much.”

On my birthday, I didn’t even buy a cake; I preferred longevity noodles.

He thought for a moment, then said, “If I remember correctly, the pastry chef today was invited from France. I don’t know if it’ll suit your taste, but most people inside just drink. You can take whatever you want to eat—don’t be polite.”

I didn’t dare be picky, so I just nodded lightly.

The air suddenly grew quiet. He looked at me, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

“Ah, this,” I said, glancing down at the brooch on my chest, about to take it off.

He reached out again, gently pressed it, and took the brooch into his hand. “Most people in this world have eyes but no vision. Don’t bother with them, Officer.”

“Of course not.”

“Fu Chao—‘caressing the tide’—what a beautiful name. The person who named you must have loved the sea. I used to love watching the tide come in too.” His voice was soft and gentle, almost as if he weren’t just saying my name.

He switched topics quickly and asked me, “Officer Yu, do you wear a watch?”

“Huh? No.”

When he heard I didn’t, he raised his left arm and unbuckled the watch strap with a soft click. It was clearly an expensive watch, glinting in the dark, studded with tiny sparkles, the ticking of its hands clear and precise. I figured those sparkles were probably diamonds set into the dial.

He took my wrist again, lifted it, and fastened his watch onto me. The inside of the strap still seemed to carry his warmth, not cold at all.

Once it was on, he looked into my eyes and said calmly, “There’s fireworks on the hill at eleven tonight. Now you have a watch, Officer. Don’t miss them.”