Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 78

The three of them returned home to find the underfloor heating hadn’t been turned on in advance. The house was chilly, even colder than the sunlit spots outside.

Zhong Jin switched on the heating and noticed Little Tong standing in the living room, shrugging off her coat. He called out to her, "Wait until the house warms up before taking off your outerwear."

Little Tong obediently stopped unbuttoning her coat and scurried to the insulated pet box instead. Kneeling down, she rested her small hands on the handle and asked, "Can I feed Sang Biao now?"

Zhong Jin walked over and glanced inside—the food bowl was empty. He nodded. "Just one scoop."

With that, he left her to it, removing his black jacket before heading into the kitchen.

Qiu Chen sat on the couch, watching as Little Tong carefully lifted a jar from the top of the pet box. Kneeling on the floor, she huffed and puffed, straining to pull out the cork stopper.

It was a transparent jar filled with millet, a stainless steel measuring spoon nestled inside.

Pinching the spoon’s handle, she scooped up a portion of millet, her wide eyes scrutinizing the mound. She then extended a finger, meticulously brushing off excess grains until the millet sat perfectly level with the spoon’s edge. Only then did she pour the precisely measured portion into the chick’s food bowl.

Zhong Jin emerged from the kitchen carrying a basin of leafy greens and handed it to Qiu Chen. "Bro, help me trim these."

Qiu Chen instinctively accepted the basin but shot a glance at Little Tong. "Why is she so obedient to you?"

The child behaved like an entirely different person around Zhong Jin compared to him.

Zhong Jin replied matter-of-factly, "I’m her dad. Of course she listens to me."

"And I’m her uncle."

Zhong Jin leveled him with a pointed look. "Have you ever played with her? Listened patiently to her? Tried to understand what goes on in that little head of hers?"

Qiu Chen had no rebuttal.

"Then what kind of uncle are you?"

Wielding a large cooking spatula, Zhong Jin brandished it in front of Qiu Chen for emphasis. "Don’t underestimate her just because she’s small. She’s not stupid. She knows exactly who treats her well, who deserves respect, and who to listen to."

After delivering this lecture, Zhong Jin retreated back to the kitchen, spatula in hand.

Left on the couch, Qiu Chen absently picked through the greens in the basin on his lap, the words settling uncomfortably.

Why should *he* be the one to understand and dote on some kid?

He never asked to be an uncle—this little nuisance had latched onto him out of nowhere. Since when did he owe her anything?

And... Qiu Chen stared at the basin of vibrant greens, realization dawning. How had he been roped into chores again?

With a clatter, he slammed the stainless steel basin onto the coffee table, the metal ringing sharply against the marble surface.

Zhong Jin poked his head out from the kitchen. "What now?"

Arms crossed, Qiu Chen scowled. "Let’s get one thing straight—I didn’t come here to babysit or do housework. If you need help, hire a maid. Stop bothering me."

"Fine. Then order takeout later—don’t eat my cooking." Zhong Jin disappeared back into the kitchen.

Having finished feeding Sang Biao, Little Tong gripped the pet box’s handle to pull herself up.

She glanced at Qiu Chen, noting his closed eyes and simmering irritation, and wisely steered clear. Instead, she climbed onto her tricycle and pedaled to the kitchen to find Zhong Jin.

"Dad, can I take off my coat now?"

The house had warmed up quickly. Little Tong tugged at her puffy jacket’s collar, letting cool air rush in as she fanned herself.

Zhong Jin ruffled her hair.

No wonder she was born in the Year of the Dog—her energy ran hot. She was already sweating after just a short while.

"You’ll need a change of clothes."

Turning off the stove, he wheeled Little Tong and her tricycle into the bedroom, swapping her outfit for a cozy, hooded fleece onesie.

She pulled the hood over her round head, the fuzzy cat ears adorning it making her look like an adorable little kitten.

Once dressed, Zhong Jin returned to cooking, but Little Tong kept circling him on her tricycle, nearly getting underfoot multiple times.

"Go play outside." Zhong Jin grabbed her cat-ear hood, spinning the tricycle toward the door.

Little Tong dug her toes into the floor, resisting with all her might. "I don’t *want* to go out. I don’t like Uncle. I want to stay with you forever!"

Zhong Jin peered past the kitchen doorway. Qiu Chen hadn’t moved—still statue-like on the couch, arms folded, eyes shut.

"Look," Zhong Jin said, pointing. "Your uncle’s so upset he’s meditating now. If he ends up renouncing the world over this, it’ll be *your* fault."

Little Tong clenched her tiny fist and punched Zhong Jin’s calf. “That’s not true, you’re lying!”

Zhong Jin pushed her little tricycle outside, and Little Tong rode it in a circle in front of Qiu Chen before pedaling back to the kitchen.

She drove straight into Zhong Jin’s slipper, then raised a finger and whispered conspiratorially, “He doesn’t want to deal with the greens, so he’s sulking.”

Zhong Jin pushed her out again. “Go bring the greens back for me. And don’t you dare try to trim them yourself.”

Little Tong rode her tricycle to the living room, glanced back at the kitchen, then climbed off and stood by the coffee table, her chubby belly pressing against the edge. She plucked a stalk of greens from the basket and muttered under her breath,

“I’mma do it myself.”

Qiu Chen heard her mumbling and opened his eyes just in time to see the little troublemaker pinching a stalk of greens, pouting seriously as she plucked off all the leaves.

“What are you doing?” Qiu Chen asked.

Little Tong turned her head, rolling her big dark eyes to the side before glancing at him with exaggerated innocence. Then, with all the calm of a seasoned chef, she went back to trimming. “Helping Daddy with the greens.”

Qiu Chen sighed. “That’s not how you do it.”

He leaned forward, pulled the basket closer, and picked up a stalk to demonstrate.

“See these yellowed leaves? You have to peel them off.”

“And this part—look here. The stem’s tough, so you need to strip off the outer layer.”

Little Tong lowered her head, her face serious as she pinched the greens delicately between her fingers, mimicking Qiu Chen’s motions to peel off the tough outer skin.

“Yeah, just like that,” Qiu Chen said.

Uncle and niece worked side by side—one teaching, one learning—until, without realizing it, they’d finished the whole basket.

Qiu Chen carried the trimmed greens into the kitchen and handed the basket to Zhong Jin. “Turns out she doesn’t always listen to you, huh?”

The unspoken jab: Zhong Jin had told Little Tong not to touch the greens, yet here they were, perfectly prepped.

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It was revenge for earlier, when Zhong Jin had teased that Qiu Chen didn’t know how to handle kids, so Little Tong never listened to him.

Zhong Jin smirked, unfazed, as he took the basket. “She might not listen, but you sure do.”

Qiu Chen: “......”

Zhong Jin sifted through the greens, deliberately needling him. “Not bad—you trimmed these really well.”

Qiu Chen: “......” *Did I just get played?*

***

After lunch at home, Zhong Jin had to head back to the station for work. Little Tong clung to his leg. “I wanna go to the police station too! I don’t wanna stay here with *that guy*.”

Zhong Jin peeled her off. “The A/C’s broken at the station. You’ll freeze.”

Little Tong charged forward like a tiny bull, ramming her round head into Zhong Jin’s legs.

He held her back with a single palm planted on her forehead, leaving her flailing her stubby arms and screeching in protest.

“Say bye to Daddy,” Zhong Jin said, finally releasing her.

Little Tong was mischievous, but she knew when to quit. She could always tell when it was okay to push her luck and when she needed to behave.

Like now—Zhong Jin was in a hurry, so tantrums were off the table.

She straightened up, clutching her shirt over her belly, and mumbled, “Come back early, ’kay? Bye.”

Then she glanced at the couch, where Qiu Chen was setting up a miniature tea set, arranging each piece on the coffee table.

Instantly distracted, she waddled over and propped her hands on the table. “Uncle, what’s that?”

Qiu Chen opened an antique-style tea caddy, scooped out a spoonful of leaves, and dropped them into a tiny clay teapot.

“Tea set.”

Little Tong blinked. “What’s a tea set for?”

“For making tea, obviously.”

“I ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‍wanna play.”

Qiu Chen poured hot water into the teapot, swirled it, then dumped the rinse into a wide porcelain bowl.

Ignored, Little Tong repeated, “Uncle, *I wanna play.*”

He waved her off. “Go play with your rubber chicken. This isn’t a toy.”

She wasn’t giving up. “Uncle, you’re my *bestest* friend in the whole world.”

“Hah.” Qiu Chen snorted. “Two seconds ago, you told your dad I was *‘that guy.’* I heard you.”

Little Tong stood silently, watching him for a moment. *If Uncle won’t let me touch it, it must be really cool.*

Suddenly, she grabbed the bowl of rinse water and lifted it toward her mouth.

Qiu Chen lunged, snatching it away just in time. The water was scalding hot, and his voice sharpened in alarm.

“You little gremlin, you wanna get spanked? This is *boiling*—are you *trying* to burn yourself?!”

Scolded, Little Tong yanked her hands behind her back, lips quivering, eyes welling up.

Qiu Chen glared. “Oh, *now* you’re gonna cry? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I don’t like you anymore.”

Little Tong let out a loud cry, her eyes brimming with tears as she glared at Qiu Chen before turning around and dashing back to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her with a loud *bang*.

The little troublemaker had stormed off.

Qiu Chen thought to himself, *Finally, I can enjoy a quiet cup of tea in peace.*

But before his lips even touched the steaming tea, another thought crossed his mind: *This kid has been utterly spoiled by Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng. She’s practically a little tyrant, completely unruly.*

After taking a sip, he found himself wondering, *What’s she doing in there all alone? Why is it so quiet?*

The more he drank, the more restless he felt.

Finally, Qiu Chen set down the teacup and walked over, pushing open the door to the bedroom. None of the doors in the house had locks, so it swung open easily. Inside, Little Tong had her back to him, muttering to herself.

*"Uncle is actually a big meanie. I don’t want to be friends with him anymore. I’m going to the police station—I’ll ask Uncle Hu De to arrest him!"*

As Qiu Chen stepped closer, he heard Zhong Jin’s voice say:

*"Your uncle is right. The tea is very hot—you shouldn’t touch it. If you get burned, it’ll hurt badly and might even leave a scar."*

So Little Tong wasn’t talking to herself—she was using her kids' smartwatch to tattle to Zhong Jin.

Qiu Chen deliberately cleared his throat, startling Little Tong so much that she immediately scrambled under the bed.

*"Come out. I’ll show you the tea set,"* Qiu Chen said.

Little Tong peeked out from under the bed, only her round, fluffy head visible. *"I don’t want you! Go away!"*

Zhong Jin’s voice came through the watch: *"Brother, don’t bother with her. If she misbehaves, just let her sulk for a while."*

Qiu Chen’s gaze fell on the discarded smartwatch—and then on the smeared lipstick stains on the floor.

*This little troublemaker had been whining pitifully to her dad on the phone while simultaneously playing with her mom’s lipstick. She really knows how to multitask.*

Picking up the ruined Armani lipstick, Qiu Chen felt his temples throb.

Once, he’d accidentally stepped on one of Qiu Sheng’s lipsticks, and she hadn’t spoken to him for a *whole week*—he’d only been forgiven after buying her a new one.

Lipstick was practically Qiu Sheng’s *life*. This little troublemaker had really done it now.

Qiu Chen spoke into the watch: *"Your daughter just committed a major crime—she ruined her mom’s lipstick."*

Zhong Jin’s voice was eerily calm, as if he’d seen it all before. *"It’s fine. Just make sure she gets into Tsinghua University before her mom gets back. Then everything will be forgiven."*