During rush hour after work, traffic moved slowly. By the time Gu Lizhou arrived at the police station, it was already past five o’clock.
Zhong Weishi was hunched over the desk, writing a self-reflection like a little kid being punished by a teacher.
Old Li sat nearby, holding a teacup and pointing things out. “Now analyze the potential consequences of this incident in more detail.”
“Oh.” Zhong Weishi couldn’t write his homework. He scratched his ears and cheeks, his face full of frustration and grievance, hoping Gu Lizhou would hurry up and take him away.
This was too fvcking painful!
Old Li tirelessly lectured him on legal knowledge.
“In our country, private detective work is illegal. No individual or organization can investigate others without authorization. Illegally obtaining or selling personal information, tracking details, or communication content is a criminal offense!”
“If the content you filmed somehow gets leaked, it won’t just be a simple fine ah…”
The word “crime” made Zhong Weishi shudder. “I-I-I didn’t, I absolutely didn’t!…”
“Really?” Old Li squinted at him. “Didn’t do it, or just didn’t have the chance yet ah?”
“Absolutely not!!!” Zhong Weishi shouted, raising three fingers. “I swear! If I ever sell that stuff, I’ll never become a big star in my life!”
“As long as you didn’t.” Old Li tapped on the self-reflection paper. “I’m just reminding you—always think twice before you act. Never let greed get the best of you.”
Zhong Weishi nodded fervently.
“Did you finish copying the Eight Honors and Eight Shames I told you to write?”
“N-not yet.”
“Then keep copying.”
“I can already recite it. Do I still have to copy it ah?”
“If you can recite it, then why did you still make mistakes?”
“… Okay.”
Zhong Weishi felt like he was going through a streak of water retrogression1It can also mean bad luck. lately—nothing was going his way.
When Gu Lizhou walked in after paying the fine, a young officer on duty stopped him. “Who are you looking for?”
Zhong Weishi immediately turned his head, eyes lighting up as if he’d seen his savior. His lips curled up slightly, looking just like a Samoyed welcoming its owner.
The corner of Gu Li Zhou’s lips hooked, “I’m looking for my son.”
Zhong Weishi’s “You’re finally here!” got stuck in his throat.
“What’s with the glare? You were calling me so enthusiastically on the phone earlier, and now you don’t want to admit it?” Gu Lizhou chuckled as he walked over, ruffling Zhong Weishi’s hair. “Finished copying yet?”
Annoyed, Zhong Weishi swatted his arm away. “Not yet.”
It was just in time for dinner, and the people in the reception room had already left.
Gu Lizhou’s arm was propped up on the table, he lowered his gaze to see a self-reflection paper written in elementary school handwriting.
Before he could reach for it, Zhong Weishi quickly stuffed the paper into his chest.
Gu Lizhou inexplicably laughed, “The words are written like that, it’s too much effort for me to read them. What’s there to hide?”
Zhong Weishi huffed and firmly wedged the paper between his thighs.
The incandescent bulb overhead was a bit dazzling.
The boy tilted his head and lay sprawled on the desk, continuing to copy the Eight Honors and Eight Shames.
From his posture to the way he held the pen, nothing was correct. A small tuft of hair near his cowlick curled up stubbornly, making his silhouette resemble a drowsy student nodding off in class.
Gu Lizhou placed his palm on the back of his head, trying to smooth down the unruly strand. But the moment he pressed it down, it popped right back up.
A certain someone still didn’t know how to appreciate kindness and looked all sulky. “What are you doing ah? Hands all over me. This is a police station—be careful, or I’ll tell the police uncles that you’re harassing me.”
Gu Lizhou smacked the tuft of hair on his head. Zhong Weishi immediately raised a hand to cover the back of his head while his right hand continued scribbling furiously.
“How much more?” Gu Lizhou leaned in to ask.
Zhong Weishi glanced down and counted, his face full of misery. “Thirty more times.”
Gu Lizhou dragged a chair over to sit beside him and pulled a ballpoint pen from the pen holder.
Only then did Zhong Weishi break into a grin and split the stack of A4 paper, handing him a sheet. “Thanks la!”
Gu Lizhou rested his chin on one hand, twirling the pen effortlessly. “Call me Dad, and I’ll help you copy.”
Zhong Weishi gritted his molars. “Are you addicted to being a father!?”
“Ah.” Gu Lizhou raised an eyebrow. “Just like how you called me earlier on the phone—only, make it a little coy…”
Before he could finish, Zhong Weishi shoved him away. “Roll, roll, roll, roll, roll!”
“Ungrateful son.” Gu Lizhou tapped his pen against Zhong Weishi’s forehead. “Using me and then tossing me aside?”
Zhong Weishi let out an ‘ow.’ “Ow ah!”
“Don’t pretend to be so pitiful. I didn’t even use any force.” Gu Lizhou pinched his chin and threw it towards his side, and found that there were indeed several bloody marks on his right cheek, as if he had been scratched by a cat’s claw.
Gu Lizhou lifted his bangs for a quick look.
His handsome face was miserable.
His skin was red and swollen, his forehead had a bruise, and the spot where Gu Lizhou had just tapped seemed to be right over that bruise.
“She scratched you ah?”
“Yeah. What, you think I just fell on my own ah.” Zhong Weishi turned his face away and rubbed his chin.
“With your IQ? Can’t say for sure,” Gu Lizhou said with a laugh.
Zhong Weishi gave him a blank look, “You just love watching me suffer.”
20 minutes later.
The fifteen copies Gu Lizhou had written were deemed invalid by Old Li on the spot because the handwriting was too neat. He tore them up without hesitation.
Zhong Weishi copied fifteen more times with a sullen face. By the time he finally walked out of the station, he was starving, his stomach practically glued to his back. Only two words echoed in his mind: Deep regret.
Meanwhile, his gloating “Dad” was standing outside the Public Security Bureau, playing on his phone, a bag in his other hand.
Zhong Weishi walked over and glanced down curiously. “What’s that ah? Snacks?”
“Yeah, something good.” Gu Lizhou pocketed his phone. “Here, take it.”
Zhong Weishi took the bag and peeked inside—only to find a bunch of anti-inflammatory medicine and healing ointments.
Before he could even say “thanks,” Gu Lizhou continued, “Can you apply the medicine yourself? If you don’t take care of those wounds, they might scar.”
Zhong Weishi froze in horror. “No way! I’m an idol-style powerhouse actor!”
The little beast was good-looking, but the moment he called himself an idol, Gu Lizhou couldn’t help but laugh. “No way, huh? When has your Dad ever lied to you?”
“… Are you done yet!”
“Nope. Remember to disinfect with antiseptic first…” Gu Lizhou paused, then reconsidered. “Forget it, forget it, forget it. I’ll just do it for you. If your hand shakes and it gets in your eye, you’ll have to go for the egg yolk pie look instead.”
His tone wasn’t exactly gentle—if anything, it was asking for a spanking—but Zhong Weishi still felt his heart turn soft.
He had lived for over twenty years and met all kinds of people, but none were quite like Gu Lizhou—attentive, considerate, easygoing, generous… Even without a job, even with his laid-back attitude, it was these little things that made him feel so reliable.
The name ‘Gu Lizhou’ was the first one that came to mind whenever he felt helpless.
“There are chairs over there.” Gu Lizhou pointed toward a small public park nearby.
But right now, Zhong Weishi felt like food was a bigger priority than medicine.
If he didn’t eat something soon, he might just pass out in the middle of the road. He had been busy gathering intel since noon, running from the hotel to the police station without a single meal. Earlier, he had caught a whiff of a junior police officer’s takeout—steamed rice in a wooden bucket—and nearly started drooling on the spot.
But Gu Lizhou was walking fast, so he had no choice but to keep up.
On a park bench, two figures sat side by side.
Gu Lizhou opened a bottle of antiseptic, carefully checking the instructions and expiration date before pulling out a cotton swab.
“Close your eyes.”
As soon as Zhong Weishi shut his eyes, he felt a large hand push up all his bangs, a warm palm pressing lightly against his forehead.
“Hiss, hiss, hiss—” A cool sensation spread across his skin, making him instinctively jerk back.
“What are you hissing for? I just touched it, I haven’t even pressed it down yet.” Gu Lizhou maneuvered the cotton swab to his other hand, grabbed the back of Zhong Weishi’s head, and pulled him forward. “Stay still.”
“Be gentle ah.” Zhong Weishi kept his eyes closed, feeling insecure about the whole thing. He worried Gu Lizhou wouldn’t control his strength. “Don’t press too hard, just lightly…”
“Afraid of pain? You’re not some little girl that you can’t stand little pain? Didn’t you have plenty of guts when you were secretly taking pictures of people? If you make mistakes, you have to accept the consequences—otherwise, you won’t learn your lesson.”
Zhong Weishi pouted, his tone carrying a hint of pleading. “I know I was wrong, just be gentle…”
Gu Lizhou smirked.
He might have called it punishment, but his hands were trembling as he applied the medicine—especially over the scr4p3d skin, afraid of actually hurting the little friend.
Applying medicine on someone else was much scarier than applying it to himself.
Zhong Weishi kept his right eye shut, but his left eye peeked open just a sliver. Gu Lizhou’s expression was so serious, it looked like he was performing some kind of high-stakes surgery.
Seeing his lips come a little closer, Zhong Weishi was so frightened that he hurriedly closed his eyes.
Warm breath brushed past his cheek to the corner of his eye, and the areas where the antiseptic had been applied felt cool.
He heard the rustling of passersby stepping on dry leaves.
Zhong Weishi smelled a faint scent of mint, like some kind of fruit candy he had eaten as a child.
Gr4p3s or peaches?
With his focus completely elsewhere, the sting of his wounds barely registered anymore.
“Don’t open your eyes ah,” Gu Lizhou said.
Zhong Weishi assumed he was about to put on a bandage. He smiled and obediently murmured, “Oh.”
The next second, he heard the click of a camera shutter—followed by Gu Lizhou’s unrestrained laughter. “Idol-style actor, huh? Basically ugly hahahaha—when you get famous one day, I’m definitely leaking this to your fans.”
“…” Zhong Weishi clenched his fists.
Stay calm.
Murder is illegal.
–
Huangfu Qiang and the others had all been dragged home by their parents by the ear, undoubtedly facing a round of severe beatings. Their birthday gathering had to be postponed until the solar calendar date instead.
“I’ll just treat you to dinner. What do you want to eat?” Zhong Weishi packed all the medicine back into the bag.
Gu Lizhou: ““Anything.”
Of course, the consequence of saying “anything” was that Zhong Weishi dragged Gu Lizhou into a fly restaurant2Small restaurants that don’t have exquisite but have great taste. It can also mean a cheap, narrow eatery. that looked like it would fail a health inspection.
The walls were stained with grease, but business seemed to be booming. The dozen or so square tables inside weren’t nearly enough to accommodate everyone.
Several shirtless men sat around a table, drinking and smoking with a large pot of lobsters that had been peeled off. Their posture was completely relaxed—short of dragging out lounge chairs.
That table was by far the rowdiest, while the staff ran around, drenched in sweat, trying to keep up.
The enthusiastic lady boss called out, “Sit anywhere and order whatever you want ah. Just call when you’re ready.”
“There, there, there!” Zhong Weishi spotted a couple getting up to leave and immediately shoved Gu Lizhou forward by the shoulders to snatch the spot.
The moment the aroma of food hit, Gu Lizhou’s stomach let out a couple of loud growls.
“You’re hungry too ah?” Zhong Weishi grinned and slid the menu over to him.
“No shit. I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Gu Lizhou said.
“No way…” Zhong Weishi gave him a disdainful look. “You didn’t starve yourself just to mooch a meal off me, did you? You’re really something.”
“You think I’m you ah!” Gu Lizhou raised the menu, ready to smack him on the forehead, but stopped himself just in time.
“I had trouble sleeping last night and woke up late today. When you called, I’d only been up for a little while,” Gu Lizhou explained.
“Insomnia? Why would you have insomnia? Is it an age thing? My grandma seems to have it too.” Zhong Weishi bombarded him with questions.
Gu Lizhou’s hit was as powerful as lightning.
“Ow.” Zhong Weishi rubbed his head and slumped onto the table. “Why couldn’t you sleep ah? Is it because you can’t find a satisfying job?”
Gu Lizhou: “Thinking about how to split you into pieces every day is exhausting.”
Zhong Weishi lay sprawled on the table, laughing uncontrollably.
Leave a Reply