Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 99

On the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, Qiu Chen finally wrapped up his engagements in Jing City and, that evening, brought his mother, Tao Siyuan, to Haishan to reunite with Zhong Jin’s family.

This reunion dinner, originally meant for New Year’s Eve, had been delayed until the fifth day due to unforeseen circumstances. Zhong Jin had initially suggested eating at home, but Aunt Liang wasn’t around, and Zhong Jin was still taking traditional Chinese medicine these past few days. Not wanting him to overexert himself, Qiu Sheng ordered delivery from a seafood restaurant downstairs. By the time they returned from picking up the guests at the airport, the food had just arrived.

Since Zhong Jin was on medication, he couldn’t drink alcohol and was relegated to sharing orange juice with Little Tong, while Qiu Sheng and her family of three opened a bottle of red wine.

Little Tong raised her juice glass and cheered, “Cheers!”

After clinking glasses, Tao Siyuan asked, “Zhong Jin, why are you taking Chinese medicine during the New Year? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Just some insomnia lately,” Zhong Jin replied calmly.

Originally, Zhong Jin had planned to hide the medicine pot during Tao Siyuan’s stay in Haishan, determined to maintain his image of robust health. But Qiu Sheng had threatened him—if he didn’t take his medicine on time or skipped his acupressure massages, she would tell Tao Siyuan and Qiu Chen about his mammary gland issues.

So, Zhong Jin had no choice but to continue his treatment, though he and Qiu Sheng agreed to stick to the insomnia explanation.

Hearing about Zhong Jin’s insomnia, Tao Siyuan naturally recalled the outrageous remarks Qiu Zhengrui had made on New Year’s Eve. Surely, those words had dredged up unpleasant memories for Zhong Jin, leaving him restless at night.

Tao Siyuan quietly made a mental note to have two century-old wild ginseng roots sent from Jing City to help Zhong Jin relax.

Little Tong, eavesdropping on the adults, put down her juice glass and pointed to her chest.

“He hurts here,” she announced.

Over the past few days, Qiu Sheng had been watching Zhong Jin like a hawk, making sure he massaged his acupressure points. Little Tong had picked up on this and remembered that Zhong Jin had discomfort in his chest.

That morning, when Zhong Jin woke up, he’d even found a small rabbit sticker stuck to his chest—Little Tong had placed it there while he slept. The medicine contained sedative ingredients, so he’d been dead to the world and hadn’t noticed a thing.

Zhong Jin shot the little blabbermouth a glare and hastily invented another ailment. “My stomach’s been a bit off too.”

Tao Siyuan added nourishing monkey head mushrooms to her mental shipping list from Jing City.

After dinner, Little Tong wandered to the living room to play. Her daily cartoon quota was used up, and since she’d caught a cold recently, she couldn’t go outside. Bored, she hugged the big dog and rolled from one end of the carpet to the other.

Qiu Chen crouched beside her and asked, “How’s your studying been these days?”

Little Tong continued rolling mechanically and replied airily, “Learn no learn, understand no understand.”

Qiu Chen: “...Where did you pick up this nonsense? And why the accent?”

Little Tong giggled. “Gu Le taught me.”

“Is Gu Le a classmate from your kindergarten? Don’t learn random things from him.”

“Gu ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍Le’s not from kindergarten. He’s from the police station. He’s my friend.”

Qiu Chen sighed. “You shouldn’t just befriend anyone. Like those kids—Allen and the others—they bullied you. People like that aren’t worth your time, understand?” Allen was the eldest grandson of his uncle’s family.

Little Tong lay flat on the carpet, raised a tiny finger, and said seriously, “They speak English. I speak Chinese. I don’t understand them.”

“That’s not the point. They didn’t share their fireworks with you, so you shouldn’t share yours with them either.”

Little Tong countered, “But Aunt Liang said my toys are mine. I can share if I want, and I don’t have to if I don’t.”

She was referring to the time at the sandpit when a boy had wanted to play with her toys, and she’d refused. Aunt Liang hadn’t scolded her—in fact, Aunt Liang had ended up arguing with the boy’s grandfather.

In Little Tong’s mind, fairness meant she could choose not to share her toys, just as others could choose not to share theirs.

So, during the fireworks incident, Little Tong hadn’t been upset at all. It was Qiu Chen who’d been furious. On New Year’s Day, he’d stormed back home, fired the nanny, and berated his uncle’s kids, prompting his uncle to book a flight home in a huff.

After the outburst, Qiu Chen had retreated to his uncle’s house. Neither he nor Tao Siyuan had returned to the villa since, effectively isolating Qiu Zhengrui.

Now, Qiu Chen squatted beside Little Tong, the two carrying on a conversation that made no sense to each other yet lasted quite a while.

Over at the dining table, the adults had finished eating. Tao Siyuan called Qiu Chen over to help clear the dishes and shooed Zhong Jin to the couch to rest.

The moment Zhong Jin sat down, Qiu Sheng brought out a bowl of medicine, supervising as he drank it.

The concoction was vile—sour, bitter, and astringent. Zhong Jin always downed it in one go, but the aftertaste lingered, turning even his breath medicinal.

As he grimaced after swallowing, Little Tong promptly stuffed a piece of candied fruit into his mouth.

Chewing on the sweet, Zhong Jin slumped against the couch. The sedative effects of the medicine gradually took hold. Before drifting off, his last memories were of Tao Siyuan and Qiu Sheng dressing Little Tong in new clothes—all bought by Tao Siyuan in Jing City, filling an entire suitcase.

Meanwhile, Qiu Chen clattered around in the kitchen, earning a scolding from Tao Siyuan to keep quiet and not disturb Zhong Jin’s sleep.

Zhong Jin had no idea how long he’d been out when he woke. The house was silent, the living room dimly lit by a single floor lamp.

Qiu Sheng sat curled on the couch, headphones on, watching a show.

Probably another comedy—her grin never faded. Unaware that Zhong Jin was awake, she muffled her laughter behind her hands, shoulders shaking soundlessly.

Zhong Jin glanced down at the Hermès throw blanket draped over him—Qiu Sheng’s favorite. He had no idea when she’d covered him with it.

Sensing his gaze, Qiu Sheng turned, removed her headphones, and said, “You’re awake? Mom and my brother took Little Tong to the movies. Want to sleep a little longer?”

Zhong Jin pressed a hand to his chest. “No, I still need to massage here today.”

“Alright, make sure you do it properly. I looked it up—they say you need to press firmly on the acupoints until you feel soreness. That’s when it’s working.”

Zhong Jin stared unblinkingly at Qiu Sheng. “I don’t know how. You do it for me.”

Qiu Sheng seemed to have been waiting for this moment for a long time and agreed without hesitation, "Okay."

She stood up, lightly ran back to the bedroom, and soon returned with a small red cloth bag in her hand. Sitting down on the sofa next to Zhong Jin, she began unwrapping the bag.

Zhong Jin raised himself slightly, looking puzzled. "What's that?"

Qiu Sheng pulled out a stick-like object from the bag, with a small round ball at the tip. Gripping the stick, she poked the little ball against Zhong Jin's chest repeatedly.

Zhong Jin recoiled in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"It’s an acupressure stick. Come on, relax a little!"

Zhong Jin: "Aren’t you supposed to use your hands?"

"This is way more effective than hands—stronger pressure and more precise targeting. I even splurged on a jade one. Feels good, right?"

As Zhong Jin yelped from the icy pokes of the acupressure stick, Qiu Sheng smacked him on the forehead and scolded, "Stop making those weird noises."

Zhong Jin: "..." How can Qiu Sheng, a 36.5°C carbon-based lifeform, be so ruthless? And... what was I even expecting?

By the time the movie ended, it was already quite late. Tao Siyuan took a taxi back to the hotel to rest, while Qiu Chen dropped Little Tong off at home. Despite Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng’s insistence that he stay, he stubbornly left to check into a hotel.

Qiu Sheng sighed helplessly. Her mother, Madam Tao, was a woman who valued boundaries—even with her own children, she always worried about intruding.

"Let her be. She’s happier that way," Qiu Sheng said.

Little Tong, who had gone out with her grandma and uncle, returned with a full upgrade—wearing a princess dress, a luxurious fur cape, and clutching a pearl-embellished mini handbag. Her shiny black Mary Janes completed the look.

Zhong Jin barely recognized his own daughter.

She looked like a little heiress.

Was this really the same kid who, just last night, had tried to drink bathwater?

Noticing Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng staring at her skeptically, Little Tong giggled and ran over. She opened her little purse, pulled out a stack of crisp hundred-yuan bills, and counted out two for Zhong Jin and two for Qiu Sheng before stuffing the rest back inside.

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Zhong Jin asked, "Where did you get this money?"

Hugging her purse and leaning her belly against the sofa edge, Little Tong proudly declared, "Uncle gave me New Year’s money!"

Zhong Jin glanced at the purse. Though all the bills were brand-new, there weren’t many—maybe just around a thousand yuan total, including what he and Qiu Sheng now held.

He found it hard to believe Qiu Chen would give such a "modest" amount. It didn’t match the tycoon’s usual style.

Little Tong set her purse down on the sofa, stretched out her tiny hands, and explained seriously:

"Uncle first gave me a piece of paper, but I already know what money is—he can’t trick me! I said I didn’t want that. I wanted ten hundred-yuan bills. So Uncle took me to the bank and made the machine spit out ten bills for me."

She added, "You don’t have to go to work anymore. I know where the money-spitting machine is. I’ll take you there to get some."

Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng exchanged glances.

Little Tong patted her belly and announced loudly, "I’m super good at this."

Zhong Jin pinched her cheek. "I hope you don’t cry when you remember this someday."

Qiu Sheng: "Even if you learn the truth one day, keep smiling through life."