Chapter 14#

With that coat, tie, and the watch on my wrist, no one gave me trouble anymore.

Thinking back now, Zhang Mingsheng giving me his clothes was probably already known to half the banquet hall in secret.

They always looked down on low-level cops like us, and many of the guests at this banquet were involved in the smuggling case.

But Zhang Mingsheng gave me a hand. His words were always half-truths, but his wish for everyone in the hall to die was probably genuine.

In the hall, the huge, dazzling crystal chandelier cast a brilliant light that made skin feel hot, illuminating every face with radiance. The jewels on their bodies were like crystalline minerals sprouting from flesh-colored silk.

There were many people, many kinds of perfume. Waiters carrying trays wove through the crowd. The long table was filled with things so exquisite I couldn’t tell if they were artworks or food.

There were also many decorations I couldn’t name but knew were expensive—which was even more painful than not recognizing them or knowing their value. I thought of my two colleagues who died in the line of duty during the smuggling case. Their pension wasn’t even a fraction of the cost of a single ivory tusk.

Walking up the steps, in a curved corner, I saw Li Yi. He had shed his usual debonair air, holding a glass of champagne, leaning against the wall in the shadows. Handsome and serious, he was quite eye-catching.

In just twenty minutes, several guests had walked over to strike up a conversation. Before they could finish introducing themselves, Li Yi pulled out his badge from his pocket and flashed it. The newcomers’ faces changed instantly, and they hurried away.

I walked up from the side and patted Li Yi on the shoulder.

Li Yi wasn’t startled. He took a sip of wine, still looking at the crowd. “I saw you a while ago. Was wondering why you didn’t come find me—turns out you wanted to scare me. Nice coat. Where’d you get it?”

I instinctively looked down at my suit jacket. The small crease from removing the brooch had disappeared, like the tide receding into the sea.

I said, “Met someone a bit strange.”

Li Yi chuckled self-deprecatingly. “We’re the strangest ones here now. Cops, and we’re worse off than a rich family’s illegitimate son.”

I laughed. “No helping it. Times like these—good men don’t take this job.”

What was said didn’t matter. As long as I smiled and said something self-deprecating or teasing, Li Yi’s mood would lift quickly. This trick had worked from when he was eighteen till he turned twenty-five.

He finally turned his head to look at me while speaking. After a casual glance, he spotted the watch on my wrist.

“Gives you a suit and a watch, but the only word you have for him is ‘strange’?” Li Yi stared at me intently, his words loaded.

I knew what he meant. I didn’t think the man was treating me as prey for a fling—we were just strangers passing by. I didn’t want to think too badly of people. But Li Yi was always protective of me, thinking I was too easily fooled. Besides, I was a cop; I really shouldn’t have been taking things from others.

I felt a belated pang of regret.

“Yu Sir, sometimes you really need some self-awareness,” Li Yi said, casually setting his glass on a passing waiter’s tray and reaching out his hand, calloused from handling guns. He was a shooting enthusiast, a member of one of Hong Kong’s most famous shooting clubs.

He grabbed my wrist, about to help me take off the watch.

“What’s his name?”

I stood still obediently, letting him remove the watch. “I don’t know. He just said his name was… Mingsheng.”

“Mingsheng?” Li Yi looked up, staring straight at me.

Li Yi didn’t ask further. He picked up the watch like it was one of his least favorite things—a bloody piece of animal entrails. He called the same waiter back. With a clatter, the watch landed on the tray.

Li Yi said, “The watch that Young Master Zhang lost. My friend found it and hopes it can be returned to him.”

“Young Master Zhang?” The waiter was surprised.

“How many young masters are there in your Zhang family?” Li Yi asked slowly, still looking indifferent.

“Of course…” The waiter’s expression changed. He lowered his head cautiously, his tone firm. “There’s only one young master—Mingsheng.”

That man was Zhang Mingsheng.

Zhang Yaonian’s only grandson, famous all over Hong Kong for his rebelliousness.

No wonder the name sounded familiar. With the surname attached, a string of news articles immediately came to mind. The Zhang family now only had these two men left. People said grandparents spoiled their grandchildren, but Zhang Mingsheng and his grandfather were on terrible terms.

What had driven this pair, who depended on each other, to become enemies?

Without realizing it, I thought of that face in the moonlight.

The ancient standing clock chimed. It must have been nearly ten o’clock.

I instinctively looked toward the sound.

Suddenly, I heard a click, accompanied by a flash brighter than a spark. My peripheral vision went white.

A boy stood about ten paces away from Li Yi and me. He wore a school uniform, knee-high socks, and leather shoes, with a sharp-chinned face hidden behind a camera.

He had just taken a photo of Li Yi and me.

Li Yi beckoned him over.

The boy showed no fear. He walked up to us calmly.

He and Li Yi were evenly matched. He took a photo of us without permission, and Li Yi snatched his camera without asking. After pulling up the photo, Li Yi didn’t delete it immediately. He looked at it for a few seconds, then gestured for me to look. So I leaned in.

Good composition, decent lighting. Against the red carpet and ornate wallpaper, Li Yi and I stood facing each other, slightly offset. I looked away, and he followed my gaze, so we both turned our heads. Li Yi even had his hands in his pockets. A nice photo. If I hadn’t been in it, I’d have thought it was a movie still.

Li Yi couldn’t bring himself to delete it for a long time. He said to the boy, “No matter how good it is, that’s not a reason to snap us without permission.”

The boy was in the middle of his voice change, his voice low and raspy, a stark contrast to his delicate features. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just that a good scene shouldn’t be wasted!”

Li Yi laughed at that. The kid was putting on an adult’s tone, but wasn’t too annoying. “How do I know you won’t use this photo to win some contest prize?”

“My surname is Song,” the boy said, making a face.

Li Yi and I exchanged a smile. With the surname Song, he was indeed richer than a Li or a Yu. So he was a kid from the Song family—no wonder he could run around with a camera.

“Give me your address. I’ll develop the photo and send it to you, okay?” the boy said eagerly.

Before I could respond, Li Yi spoke up. “Sure, send it to the police station. Mark it for Officer Li and Officer Yu.”

When he said “Officer Li and Officer Yu,” he pointed at himself and me.

The boy frowned, snatched back the camera, muttered “Crazy,” and ran off. I hadn’t even raised my hand to wave him back.

“Hey, kid! Running so fast—you’ll trip! And remember to delete that photo!” Li Yi shouted after him.

I patted him reassuringly. “It’s just one photo. We’re not undercover.”

Li Yi said, “Being undercover’s no big deal. Someday, if your files get wiped, I’ll have a tin box of photos to prove you were once a cop.”

“I knew you’d taken more than one photo of me.”

Once, during a drill, I got hit by a blank and “died” on the spot. Li Yi secretly took a picture.

When I confronted him, Li Yi answered with high-minded reasoning: “That wasn’t a sneak shot. It was a meaningful memento.”

“I was lying there dead in an awkward pose. What meaning?”

Li Yi said solemnly, “Officer, whether alive or dead, as long as we give it our all, it has meaning.”

I wasn’t falling for it. I shoved him, and he dropped the act, grinning. “But senior, you really don’t know how to play dead.”

I immediately punched him in the shoulder. He pretended it hurt, clutching his shoulder and bending over with a grimace.

We fooled around like that until it was nearly eleven.

The Zhang family villa had a good location. One more floor up, and we could see a nearby green hilltop, far enough away to be perfectly framed in the window. When the clock chimed again, magnificent fireworks rose from the mountain, accompanied by a piercing whistling sound. I had only ever seen sunrises and sunsets, never so many brilliant sparks. Purple, blue, orange, red—they soared, unfurled, and then plummeted abruptly. They were so grand that they lit up a small patch of the night sky and made the clouds colorful. Everyone was looking out the window, their faces shifting with different colors.

I looked up, and suddenly felt my chest open up, relaxed and light. There was an indescribable feeling in my heart.

He hadn’t broken his promise, and I hadn’t missed it.

Much later, I discovered that Cocoa’s least favorite story was “The Little Mermaid.” She preferred the boundless sea and couldn’t understand why the little mermaid would fall for fireworks that vanished in an instant. Her father set off fireworks for her every year, so she took them for granted. She didn’t understand why the little mermaid was so moved, so obsessed.

But the year I first met Zhang Mingsheng was also the first time I saw such grand fireworks. I was an adult, not as innocent as the little mermaid, but the moment those fireworks burst open, I admit my heart skipped a beat.

Back then, I didn’t know what would happen later. How could I? Zhang Mingsheng wasn’t a prince but a wicked sea demon. In the most brilliant, beautiful moment, all one wants is to stay there forever, savoring the beauty.

No one knew what Zhang Mingsheng said to me. I didn’t even know if those fireworks had anything to do with me.

After all, as soon as the fireworks went up, some speculated that Zhang Mingsheng was giving a gift to his grandfather, trying to break the ice that night.

But the next day, the entertainment headlines ran a story: Zhang Mingsheng had been street racing on the night of his grandfather’s birthday and setting off fireworks that disturbed the peace. The rumor that he was trying to appease his grandfather collapsed.

Not attending the birthday banquet but instead setting off fireworks—whether he was wishing his grandfather a long life or hoping his life would end as quickly as those twilight fireworks, to die soon and be reborn quickly—no one knew.

Paparrazi even managed to capture a short video clip and played it on loop on gossip channels with exaggerated commentary. They said chasing Zhang Mingsheng was like chasing a professional race car driver—thrilling and dangerous, with a risk of dying on the job at any moment.

In the video, Zhang Mingsheng drove a blood-red Ferrari through the mountain curves, like a crimson rainbow. The camera caught a side profile of him—sharp brows and eyes, a high nose bridge. The clothes he wore looked familiar. I sat in my office, watching the screen again and again.

He was driving like a maniac in my coat.

He stood in a newspaper photo wearing my coat. My coat from a clearance sale.

A strange feeling suddenly surged in my chest. It was like a winding stream, flowing silently. But if I focused, I could hear its murmuring sound.

Driven by some impulse, I cut out that photo of Zhang Mingsheng from the newspaper.

I had a photo of Zhang Mingsheng, but the photo of Li Yi and me never arrived. Maybe the boy thought Li Yi was joking, or maybe he just didn’t want to send it to us anymore.

I didn’t mind, and Li Yi gradually forgot about it.

A week later, I received a package.

I opened it and found a watch. Zhang Mingsheng’s watch.

Attached was a note with messy handwriting.

When I read it, Zhang Mingsheng’s voice echoed in my mind.

Zhang Mingsheng said: This is a gift, not a lost item. As a police officer, you must always be punctual. So I’m giving it to Mr. Yu. No need to return it.