Chapter 6

Not only was sleeping a problem, but taking a shower was also a challenge. The rental house had limited facilities, no bathroom, and certainly no shower. Fortunately, Aunt Zhang was kind enough to help. She heated up some water and let Xiao Fan use her house to shower, even pulling the curtains shut to prevent anyone from peeping.

"There are a lot of bad people on this street. Things get stolen all the time, and there are even perverts who peep at women showering," Aunt Zhang said.

As night fell, the tenants of No. 108 Iron Slag Street gradually returned. The lights in the rooms lit up one by one. Aunt Zhang's husband, who drove a disabled person's vehicle, was the first to return. He locked his vehicle to the power pole at the entrance, limped up to the second floor, and soon the sound of arguments and things being smashed came from inside. The limping man stormed out, got back into his vehicle, and drove away. Aunt Zhang sat at the door, crying and cursing: "You scoundrel, all you do is gamble. You've wasted all the money we had. Wang Zhigang, why don't you go out and get hit by a car and die."

The neighbors, holding their bowls of food, watched from their balconies. The husband of the landlord's family returned with a birdcage, dressed in a silk Chinese-style outfit, looking leisurely. He stood in the yard and advised: "Aunt Zhang, don't say that. If he really gets hit, the kids will have no father."

"Get your ass inside, or I'll treat you like a mute," the landlord's wife said, pulling her husband by the ear into the house.

The landlord's daughter also returned, wearing a tank top and hot pants, heavily made up. She threw her schoolbag inside and said, "Mom, I'm going out to play," and walked away without looking back. The landlord's wife cursed, "Go to hell and don't come back. Do you even look like a student?"

For some reason, the two households on the third floor started arguing. The courtyard was filled with foul language, but everyone was used to it and pretended not to hear.

In Room 202, Zhu Xiaoqiang was wearing headphones and playing DOTA, seemingly isolated from the world.

On the fourth floor, Liu Hane Dong let Xiao Fan stay in his room and bed, while he slept on a mat on the rooftop. The city was full of construction and road repairs, with smog covering the sky, making it impossible to see the stars. Liu Hane Dong fell into a deep sleep.

After a few hours, a scream pierced the night sky. The lights in the quiet courtyard lit up one by one. The landlord's daughter ran out of her room on the first floor, wrapped in a bath towel, shouting, "Catch the pervert! Someone was peeping at me showering!"

A muscular young man, carrying an iron bar, ran out of his room, ready to catch the pervert. He was the landlord's eldest son.

At this moment, Wang Zhigang also returned in his disabled person's vehicle, going straight upstairs to ask Aunt Zhang for money to continue gambling. Aunt Zhang and he started fighting. Liu Hane Dong was woken up by the noise, leaned over the balcony to watch, and Xiao Fan walked over, gently shaking his arm, her eyes pleading.

Without a word, Liu Hane Dong went downstairs. He saw Wang Zhigang about to punch someone, so he stepped forward, grabbed Wang Zhigang, and pushed him against the wall. Wang Zhigang, reeking of alcohol, shouted, "You bitch, you're capable, finding someone to beat me up. I'll call the police!"

Aunt Zhang also took out her phone and said, "Call the police, then!"

Below, the situation was chaotic. The pervert who had been peeping was caught and beaten half to death by the young man. The landlord called 110, asking the police to come and take the pervert away.

In Room 202, Zhu Xiaoqiang was still focused on his computer, completely unaware that his Nokia 5230 had been stolen.

...

At Huahuo Police Station, Officer Ma Guoqing sat at his desk, feeling utterly hopeless. He had a diagnosis of advanced stomach cancer. He had been a police officer for half his life, never received any commendations, and never been disciplined. He was just a good guy, but why did fate treat him so unfairly?

Ma Guoqing's wife was a ticket seller for the bus company and had already retired. His only daughter, Ma Ling, was also a bus driver. What would happen to them after he was gone?

The phone rang suddenly. The 110 command center dispatched Huahuo Police Station to No. 108 Iron Slag Street for a public security case and a family dispute.

Although he had two bars and two flowers on his shoulder, Ma Guoqing had no administrative position. He was just a frontline officer. He sighed, folded the diagnosis letter, and put it in his police uniform pocket. He took two auxiliary police officers and drove an old Santana police car to No. 108 Iron Slag Street, not using the siren but with the police lights on.

As a community police officer, Ma Guoqing was familiar with every detail of Iron Slag Street. The street was home to thousands of people, mostly migrant workers. Due to its location at the urban-rural fringe, the situation was very complex, making it a high-crime area. Prostitution, gambling, drug use, and fights were common. The police station had limited resources and could not manage everything. Whenever there was a mass fight, Ma Guoqing would avoid it, thinking it was better to have one less problem than one more. After years in the job, his initial enthusiasm had turned as cold as the Huai River in winter.

Tonight's case was not complicated. A migrant worker from a nearby construction site had been peeping at a resident showering. Ma Guoqing understood the plight of these workers who rarely went home, suffering from sexual repression and unable to afford brothels. The suspect had already been beaten half to death by the residents, so it was just a matter of having the auxiliary police officers handcuff him and put him in the car.

The family dispute was a bit more complicated. Aunt Zhang pulled Officer Ma's sleeve and cried, saying her husband not only ignored their family but also gambled with the money she earned. He played gambling machines at the arcade on the street, and she wanted Officer Ma to shut down the gambling machines.

Ma Guoqing smiled bitterly. The gambling machines were a source of income for local gangsters, who had protection. If he shut them down today, they would be back tomorrow. What could he, a small police officer, do?

He consoled Aunt Zhang and then criticized Wang Zhigang. Wang Zhigang, who had been acting crazy under the influence of alcohol, became obedient when he saw the police. He admitted his mistake and promised not to gamble again, resolving the issue.

Ma Guoqing routinely asked the landlord if there were any new tenants. The landlord said two rooms had been rented out, one on the second floor to a nearby student, and one on the fourth floor to a brother and sister.

"Officer Ma, you can rest assured. I am a community security volunteer. I can spot any bad person at a glance. There's no problem," the landlord said, patting her chest.

"Have you registered their IDs?" Ma Guoqing asked.

"Registered, but I forgot where I put them. My memory isn't what it used to be," the landlord said, patting her head.

"I'll go up and check," Ma Guoqing said, shining a flashlight as he went upstairs.

In Room 202, Zhu Xiaoqiang took off his headphones, looking nervously at the police. If the hundreds of gigabytes of Japanese and Western adult films on his computer were discovered, he could be sent to labor camp.

The police checked Zhu Xiaoqiang's ID and said nothing, continuing upstairs.

On the third floor, Xiao Li and Xiao Hong, who worked at a beauty salon, lived. Fortunately, they hadn't brought any clients back that night, or they would have been fined or sent to labor camp.

On the fourth floor, the new tenants were Xiao Fan, who was wearing pajamas, and her brother. She gestured to the police that she didn't have her ID.

Ma Guoqing frowned and asked where the man who lived with her was. He had already seen the mat on the rooftop and knew the man had probably seen the police and gone out to avoid them.

At this moment, Aunt Zhang, who had come to watch, started talking, saying that Da Dong and Xiao Fan were good people, kind and helpful, and that Xiao Fan had even helped her cook. Ma Guoqing didn't see any issues and didn't want to make things complicated. The radio was calling him to handle a traffic accident that had turned into a public security dispute, so he instructed the landlord to go to the police station the next day to file a report and went downstairs.

The police car drove away, but Liu Hane Dong still hadn't appeared.

Liu Hane Dong had gone to find witnesses. His first stop was the construction site on Wenquan Road, where the trucks transported soil at night. He remembered the license plate of the truck that had witnessed his accident and easily found the driver.

A group of burly, rough-looking truck drivers were gathered, smoking and boasting. Liu Hane Dong approached and explained his purpose. A man in his thirties glared at him and said, "It was my truck. What's the problem?"

Liu Hane Dong said, "The police are giving me trouble. You need to help me by testifying to what you saw."

The driver said, "I did see a person lying in front of your car, with a rebar through his head, and another person in the passenger seat. But why should I help you? I'm busy driving all day. If I waste an hour, I lose at least a thousand yuan. You need to pay me for my lost wages."

The other drivers joined in, demanding at least a thousand yuan for lost wages.

Liu Hane Dong clenched his fists.

The driver said slyly, "I won't let you off the hook for free. I know where the injured were taken."

Liu Hane Dong asked where, but the driver shook his head, "Money talks."

Liu Hane Dong said, "Wait, I'll get the money," and turned to leave. He took out his Nokia 5230, turned on the recording function, and replayed the driver's words.

"This is evidence," Liu Hane Dong said to himself.

...

In the United States, in Memphis, Tennessee, at the Methodist University Hospital Transplant Institute, a Chinese cancer patient named Xia Qingshi was undergoing liver transplant surgery. He was in the ICU, and a 27- or 28-year-old female assistant was responsible for his daily care, with a team of five people handling logistics.

A police officer from the Memphis Police Department came to the hospital to meet Xia Qingshi. The female assistant received him and communicated in fluent English, saying that Mr. Xia's current health condition was not suitable for visitors. She introduced herself as his senior assistant, Anna, and said that any matters could be discussed with her.

The police officer told Anna that they had received an email from China, claiming to be from Xia Qingshi's daughter, who was facing kidnapping and murder. They were asked to notify her father.

"You know, such bizarre things don't happen often. As a police officer, this is the first time I've received a transnational request for help," the officer said.

"Thank you. I will inform Mr. Xia and take appropriate action," Anna said.

"I'm sorry, but I must speak to Mr. Xia personally. This is what his daughter requested," the officer insisted.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Mr. Xia has just had surgery and hasn't woken up yet," Anna said, spreading her hands.

The officer was just doing his duty and didn't insist further. "Please convey the message. I'll come back later."

Anna escorted the police officer out, then returned to the ICU, put on a sterile gown, and entered. Xia Qingshi's liver transplant surgery was very successful, and he was lying on the bed, resting. He was a Chinese man in his forties, extremely thin, but his facial features suggested he had been a handsome man in his youth.

"Qingshi, how are you feeling? Everything is fine at home. Don't worry," Anna said.

Xia Qingshi weakly nodded.

Anna left the ICU, picked up the phone, and dialed a long-distance number to China, starting with 086. "This is Anxin. Find me the best private detective in Jinjiang, someone who has been a criminal investigator."

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