Chapter 16

PS. Here's today's update, and I'm also taking the opportunity to promote the 515 Fan Festival on Qidian. Everyone has 8 votes, and voting also gives Qidian coins. I beg for everyone's support and appreciation!

"Yesterday, the sea wind was fierce, the waves surged, the sky was dark, and the sand gradually blurred my vision. The saltwater had already reached the waist of the man. In a hurry, I took out my gun to protect the equipment, which led to an accidental discharge, firing nine rounds..." Du Qian was stunned. Can patrol logs be written like this?

Is this a log or a nonsensical essay? I really can't tell. Uncle Feng's writing is so good; his education must be very high. At this level, being a patrol officer is such a waste.

Besides his writing, what Du Qian found most unacceptable was that the saltwater had already reached the man's waist, and to protect the gun, he hurriedly drew it, resulting in nine accidental discharges. Could it be any more ridiculous?

"Write quickly, you'll need to submit it soon. Someone upstairs is definitely waiting for it. Once the team's response comes back, you'll need to go to the internal affairs armory, get a stamp, and it will be fine." Feng Bao said nonchalantly.

"Oh..." Well, Du Qian felt his mind was already numb, and his ideals were frozen. The world of patrol officers was completely incomprehensible.

This world is so strange. In Du Qian's view, whoever submitted this patrol log would definitely get a big earful. In fact, the duty captain glanced over it, stamped it, and said with satisfaction, "Well written, keep it up, I have high hopes for you."

This... is it over? And he has high hopes for me? Do I look good?

Like a zombie, he went to the internal affairs armory. The person in charge took the receipt from the duty captain, pursed his lips, said nothing, and stamped it again.

"Alright, be more careful next time, and don't let it discharge accidentally."

That's it, really over. Before 8 o'clock, Feng Bao took Du Qian, got on the police patrol car, and went to work.

That's right, there's a car today, but it's not the Over Mountain Tiger used by patrol officers. It's a two-wheeled kinetic motorcycle, which is the standard transportation for them.

Du Qian went to work with a muddled mind, and the sub-division was bustling. In less than half an hour, the whole sub-division knew that the new patrol officer who arrived yesterday had accidentally discharged nine rounds to protect the police gun.

Actually, in the sub-division, there are many more bizarre things than this. It's just another piece of gossip. Those who understand already knew yesterday, and those who don't understand treat it as a guessing game, a topic for tea breaks.

From the secretary, Du Qian learned that Deputy Director Du's stunning face had a hint of redness, but it was hard to tell if she was happy or angry.

Already in her middle age, Deputy Director Du was still stunningly beautiful, the most outstanding young woman in the entire sub-division. If she weren't already married, the pretty girls who have come in recent years wouldn't stand a chance against her.

Beautiful as she was, no one dared to have any ideas about her. Not even the middle-aged uncles, and even the head of the sub-division had to be polite to her.

Of course, it was just politeness. With the title of Deputy Director, she didn't have much to decide, and she didn't have much power.

Deputy Director Du Lanfang of the Pingchuan Treasure Sub-Division was not just a pretty face.

After parking the car, Feng Bao said as they walked, "The kinetic motorcycle is different from the patrol car. Be careful when you park it. These days, there are always some people who don't know better. Don't think just because it's a police car, no one will dare to steal it."

After saying that, he stopped, turned to look at Du Qian, and said solemnly, "Du Qian, you've already gotten what you should have, and you've already let go of what you should. From today on, you need to be careful. If you don't understand, you can choose not to act, and if you don't act, you won't make mistakes. This is the unwritten rule, not in the regulations, not in the handbook. Do you understand?"

"Understood." It's just the unwritten rule, right? First time seeing it, but not the first time hearing about it.

Du Qian blinked a few times and suddenly felt that the first two sentences of Feng Uncle's words seemed to have a deeper meaning. "You've already gotten what you should have, and you've already let go of what you should."

The "what you should have" probably refers to the spirit fish, which is the new person's gift, something he should have. And the "what you should let go"? Could it be the bizarre patrol log from this morning?

There's at least a 90% chance. Such a log, and no one even asked a single question, just passed it? Even if he hadn't been involved in the patrol officer business before, Du Qian could guess that firing nine rounds was not a small matter, and it was just brushed off.

He knew very well that his aunt had done her best to get him into the patrol squad. His cousin had said she could only do so much, and she even gave him 3,000 yuan afterward, which was already very considerate.

The problem yesterday, his aunt didn't help him with, which means this is also part of the unwritten rule, giving new people a chance?

Du Qian quickly figured it out. It was full of human warmth. At this moment, Du Qian's impression of the patrol squad improved greatly.

From today on, he would be a proud patrol officer, facing the sea, watching the flowers wither in autumn.

Yeah, a pretty good modern poem. Working at the fishing pier isn't about facing the sea every day. It's autumn now, and the flowers naturally start to wither.

Following Uncle Feng, his literary level has improved significantly. Don't be unhappy; he's an orphan school graduate. To be able to write such a good modern poem, you should be grateful. If he wrote about which patrol officer training is the best, you'd be drawing circles in the corner.

I'm a patrol officer, who am I afraid of?

After a moment of intoxication, Du Qian finally understood what kind of days patrol officers face.

Today, Uncle Feng didn't teach him much. There was no time to teach. The communicator on his left shoulder didn't stop for a moment. Yesterday was clearly welcoming new people, like a holiday.

From the start of work, Du Qian's legs were like wheels, running back and forth, never stopping, all for trivial matters.

"What? Two ships are fighting over a berth? Okay, I'll contact the merchant and have them mediate."

"What? There's a laborer causing trouble? Okay, I'll send the foreman over."

"What? The teahouse owner's dog ran away? Okay, I'll go look for it."

Happiness and excitement came quickly and left just as quickly. By the end of the day, Du Qian was exhausted, almost panting, with over 6,000 combat points supporting him to run as fast as a windmill, but the tasks never ended, one after another.

As a proud new patrol officer, there were too many things he didn't understand, and handling them naturally wasn't fast. He often had to consult Uncle Feng. Indeed, his "posture" improved through doing and learning. By the end of the day, Du Qian already knew how to handle many things.

It wasn't until 4:30 PM that Du Qian had lunch, a quick chicken leg burger, convenient and affordable, something most people couldn't afford.

Standing on the pier, watching the sorter sort the sea fish unloaded from the ship, his legs felt weak, his throat salty. By the end of the day, his legs were worn out, and his voice was hoarse.

Looking at Uncle Feng standing not far away, his admiration was like a surging sea. They were a team, and seeing Uncle Feng handle various situations with ease, while he struggled, the difference was clear.

It was hard to imagine that Uncle Feng had been doing this for over thirty years and hadn't been driven mad. Impressive.

"Less eating, you've already had four burgers. You won't be able to eat dinner." Feng Bao said with a smile in his eyes.

After two days of interaction, the initial dissatisfaction with Du Qian had been blown away by the sea breeze, reaching the depths of the sea. This kid was good. He had trained many people, and those who could reach Du Qian's level could be counted on one hand.

Of course, Feng Bao was honest. The people assigned to him by the police were usually not proper patrol officers, mostly second-generation rich kids and nobles, nothing but trouble. Training Du Qian was so much easier and he could actually work.

"This is dinner." Du Qian said vaguely.

"Uncle Feng, what's the deal with the broken fish?" Du Qian's eyes were very bright. If he weren't in a police uniform, other patrol officers might easily spot him. His eyes were like a thief finding a target.

"Broken spirit fish, it's normal. You should have learned this in school. Spirit fish are a type of spirit beast with strong combat power, equivalent to human martial cultivators, with at least 10,000 combat points. Trying to catch such a fish with a fishing net is a dream. It requires the ship's guards to take action." Today's work was almost done, and Feng Bao finally had time to guide Du Qian, but he didn't expect him to ask about this.

Many things were ordinary to Feng Bao, who had seen them all. But to someone who didn't know the business, everything was fresh. It wasn't strange to give him a quick lesson, which wouldn't take much time.

To learn everything about the pier, it would take years, no matter how smart a person was. After all, the pier was 4.6 kilometers long, with over a hundred berths and hundreds of shops, and the personnel turnover was huge, with all kinds of situations possible.

This was just the daytime work. Night patrol officers had their own rules. Feng Bao knew all of this, having worked here for over thirty years, both day and night shifts, making him a living dictionary of the fishing pier.

"Ah, broken spirit fish?" Du Qian understood. Killing a spirit fish was like a battle between martial cultivators, something ordinary fishermen couldn't handle. Du Qian hadn't seen a battle between martial cultivators, but he had seen them in TV and movies, which, though fake, could still give him a general idea.

As for the combat tests in school, they were like elementary school physical education classes, not to be taken too seriously. There were only five martial cultivators in the same year, none of whom had combat experience. Fighting with small hooligans was essentially the same, just with more strength and speed.

"The spirit energy equipment on the spirit fish is very valuable, but it's hard to preserve. Once it leaves the body, it must be placed in a storage box." Feng Bao finished and looked at Du Qian. This silly kid, after getting the new person's gift yesterday, didn't put the fish in the fridge, did he? That would be a waste.

"Storage boxes are expensive." Du Qian said with a bitter face. Twenty yuan each, almost half a month's salary.

Feng Bao was quite satisfied. This kid was quite smart, just a bit mischievous. But he wasn't lazy, and for a young person, being smart and not lazy was enough. As for talent, don't set the bar too high. If everyone had it, it wouldn't be called talent.

The empire's thirst for talent is endless. Even a place like the War Orphan School is being watched, let alone other prestigious institutions.

[It's almost 515, hoping to continue to impact the 515 Red Packet List. On May 15th, the red packet rain will reward readers and promote the work. Even a small amount is love, and I will definitely update well!]

Page flip AD starts

Page flip AD ends