Eating Melons in the Police Station

Chapter 17

Today is the weekend, and Zhong Jin doesn’t have to go to the police station. After his morning exercise, he returned home to clean. He doesn’t like having other people in his house, so he usually takes care of the cleaning himself. Besides, he’s a bit of a neat freak and doesn’t trust others to clean properly. He insists on doing it himself to feel at ease.

After stripping the bedsheets and tossing them into the washing machine, the doorbell rang a few times. Little Tong, gliding on her new toy—a silent-wheeled scooter—slid to the balcony to find her dad.

“Someone’s here, probably the yellow-shirted uncle,” she said.

The “yellow-shirted uncle” she referred to was the delivery guy. Recently, Zhong Jin had been obsessed with buying things online for his daughter, and almost every day, packages arrived at their home.

In Little Tong’s eyes, the yellow-shirted uncle was a great person, always bringing her lots of goodies. She thought it was because she was a good girl that people sent her things, completely unaware that it was her dad’s money making it all happen.

Sure enough, today’s delivery was filled with more goodies. Zhong Jin helped her unwrap the packages, and she sat on a small shoe-changing stool in the entryway, inspecting her new treasures.

After a while, Little Tong scootered over to Zhong Jin, who was on the balcony scrubbing her shoes. “Dad, what’s this?”

She stretched out her arm and tossed a pink plastic duck into the sink.

Zhong Jin stared at the abstract-looking duck, completely unable to recall what it was. He had been ordering so many things online lately that he was starting to lose track.

He rinsed the soap off his hands under the faucet, grabbed a towel to dry them, and followed Little Tong back to the entryway. The two of them crouched on the floor, studying the item for a while before Zhong Jin finally figured it out from the instructions.

“It’s an electric bubble machine. It came as a free gift with the bath set.”

“I want to play with it!” Little Tong had no idea what an electric bubble machine was, but if it was something she could play with, she was all in.

“Okay, hold on. Let me figure it out first,” Zhong Jin said.

Following the instructions, he unscrewed the duck’s head, poured in some bath liquid, and then added water to the machine in the bathroom.

When he turned it on, a steady stream of fluffy bubbles started pouring out of the duck’s rear.

Zhong Jin paused. “...This feels a bit weird.”

Little Tong tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. “Let me play with it!”

In the brief moment Zhong Jin was distracted, the sink was already overflowing with pink bubbles. He quickly turned off the machine and started rinsing away the foam.

Little Tong, who had been waiting impatiently, dragged over her little step stool, climbed up, and grabbed a handful of bubbles to smear on her head. By the time Zhong Jin noticed, her hair was already soaked, with a small clump of foam still clinging to her forehead.

Zhong Jin suspected she had done it on purpose, just to get her hands on the bubble machine.

Since her hair was already wet, he decided to let her take a bath. Zhong Jin stepped out of the bathroom, telling Little Tong to finish her bath properly while he went to her room to fetch clean clothes.

When he returned, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Little Tong, I’ve left your clothes on the stool outside.”

At that moment, Little Tong was too engrossed in spraying bubbles all over the shower glass with the bubble machine to hear him.

Zhong Jin raised his voice and repeated, “Your clothes are on the stool outside!”

This time, his shout got through to the little troublemaker. “Okay, okay!” she replied, still spraying bubbles.

About twenty minutes later, Zhong Jin knocked on the door again. “Zhong Yuntong, are you done yet? Are you playing with the bubbles in there?”

Little Tong was kneeling in front of the toilet, pouring fragrant bubbles into the drain. Seeing the bubbles floating on the water without going down, she urged the toilet, “Hurry up and swallow!”

“Zhong Yuntong, are you listening to me? Are you playing with the bubbles?” Zhong Jin knocked on the door again.

“I’m not playing, I’m playing with bubbles,” she replied.

“...Hurry up and finish. No more playing.”

“Okay, okay.” As the toilet’s “swallowing” speed was too slow, the bubbles started overflowing. Little Tong finally gave up on the toilet and turned the bubble machine on herself, spraying a cloud of bubbles onto her head.

“Ah!” she screamed.

“What’s wrong? Did you slip?” Zhong Jin pushed the door open and rushed in.

The bathroom was filled with pink foam. Zhong Jin fished around in the bubbles for a while before pulling out the little bubble-covered child.

That day, Zhong Jin spent a long time rinsing things off with the showerhead—first the child, then the toilet, then the walls, and finally the floor. The excessive water usage might have raised suspicions of foul play if anyone had been keeping track.

“I’m confiscating your bubble gun later,” Zhong Jin said, frowning, half-tempted to give his daughter a “proper” childhood lesson.

Little Tong, her short hair wet and messy, clutched the now-clean pink duck bubble gun to her chest and ran off.

She dashed into the bedroom, looking around for a place to hide the bubble gun. After struggling to open the wardrobe door, she peeked inside but decided it wasn’t a good spot—her dad would find it when he got his clothes.

Next, she pulled open the bedside drawer and stood on her tiptoes to look inside. It was empty, so it seemed like a safe hiding place.

She hoisted the bubble gun into the drawer, but it was a bit too tall. The drawer wouldn’t close, so she pushed it in as far as she could. When it wouldn’t budge any further, she dragged over her little step ladder, climbed up, and reached inside to pull out whatever was blocking it.

With a bit of effort, she yanked out a framed photo. In the picture, everyone was dressed nicely. Two older people were sitting, while two others stood behind them—one was her dad, and the other was a young woman.

Little Tong only recognized her dad in the photo. Who were the others, and why was her dad with them?

She carried the photo frame to the kitchen, where Zhong Jin was chopping vegetables, and tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. “Dad, I found something.”

“Hmm? What is it?” Zhong Jin, wearing an apron, didn’t turn around.

Little Tong plopped the photo frame onto the counter. “This.”

Zhong Jin stopped chopping when he saw the photo. The people in the picture were smiling at him, their expressions as vivid as if they were right there.

His hand, holding the knife, trembled slightly. Afraid of scaring his daughter, he gripped his wrist with his other hand to steady it, then gently set the knife down on the cutting board.

“Who are they?” Little Tong tugged at his clothes. “Why were you with them?”

“Hmm,” Zhong Jin replied, still hunched over slightly. His voice was a little nasal. “You don’t know them. They’re your grandparents and aunt.”

“I want to go play with them.”

“You can’t. They’ve gone somewhere far away.”

Little Tong hugged her dad’s leg and looked up at him. “Did they leave without you?”

“Yeah, they left. They left me behind,” Zhong Jin said softly. Though only three years old, Little Tong could sense her dad’s sadness.

She pressed her face against his leg, rubbing it gently through his pants. “Then I’ll always stay with you.”

After a moment, Zhong Jin gently pushed her away. “Go play outside. Cutting onions will make your eyes sting.”

*

Since getting her scooter, Little Tong no longer ran with her dad in the mornings. Instead, she scootered behind him, feeling like she was the fastest thing on wheels. Sometimes, she even managed to overtake him, though she needed his help to get up hills.

Having the scooter was convenient. They could hang their breakfast on the handlebars instead of carrying it awkwardly.

As they passed by the old man selling steamed buns, Little Tong stopped. “Grandpa, I’d like a bun.”

The old man picked out the biggest, fluffiest bun for her, placed it in a plastic bag, and hung it on her scooter’s handlebars.

After Zhong Jin paid, Little Tong stood on her scooter, now laden with food, and waved at the old man. “Bye, Grandpa. Stay healthy!”

Zhong Jin found the scene amusing and picked up his phone to capture the moment. The morning light fell on the faces of an elderly man and a young child—one shuffling along, the other wide-eyed with innocence. The old man chuckled, revealing a gap where two teeth were missing. Both were undeniably endearing.

After taking the photo, Zhong Jin wanted to share it with someone, but as he scrolled through his social media apps, he couldn’t find the right person. Even Yu Feiyang, his closest friend, didn’t know about Little Tong’s relationship with him. In the end, he simply posted the photo to his private social media account, which was set to “visible only to me.” It was a space filled with memories.

Little Tong insisted on bringing her toy car to daycare, so Zhong Jin placed it in the trunk of his car and drove her to school.

“The big car is holding the little car, just like Daddy holds me,” Little Tong giggled, sitting in her child seat with her hand covering her mouth.

Zhong Jin got into the driver’s seat and chuckled along with her before his expression turned serious. “Listen, if the teacher says you can’t bring the car inside, it stays in the trunk. No fussing, understand?”

“The teacher will let me,” the child replied confidently. “Miao Yueyue brings her car in too.”

Zhong Jin paused. “...Miao Yueyue’s car is different from yours.”

“Then buy me one like hers.”

Zhong Jin fell silent again. “...I can’t. And stop mentioning Miao Yueyue’s legs in front of her.”

“Why?”

“It might upset her.”

When they arrived at the daycare, Little Tong’s scooter was indeed not allowed inside. However, Teacher Zhuang explained that the daycare had a designated parking area for children’s vehicles, where it could be temporarily stored.

Zhong Jin accompanied his daughter to the parking area, located next to the adult parking lot. It was marked with white paint and covered by a colorful canopy, filled with an array of brightly colored toy vehicles.

“Do this many kids bring their own cars?” Zhong Jin wondered aloud. He had thought his daughter was unique in this regard, but it seemed all the children shared the same idea.

The security guard overseeing the parking area attached a license plate to Little Tong’s car, labeling it with “Zhong Yuntong.” “Some kids have multiple cars,” the guard said. “They switch them out.”

Zhong Jin glanced at the green toy car bearing his daughter’s name, then at the other vehicles, mentally noting the styles that seemed popular among the children.

As they were leaving, Little Tong spotted Miao Qingyue’s father dropping her off. He retrieved a wheelchair from the trunk, carefully placed Miao Qingyue into it, and draped a small blanket over her knees before pushing her toward the entrance.

“Miao Yueyue!” Little Tong called out, hurrying over on her short legs. She leaned on the wheelchair’s armrest, her eyes filled with admiration. “My car isn’t allowed inside.”

Miao Qingyue, the little girl, kept her lips pursed and her gaze fixed on the ground, ignoring the strange child who seemed so fascinated by her wheelchair. Still, she didn’t mind Little Tong tagging along and let her walk beside her.

Zhong Jin called from behind, “Little Tong, say goodbye to Daddy.”

Little Tong didn’t hear her father’s call. Instead, she craned her neck to watch a nearby child who was crying uncontrollably. She stopped and observed for a moment, oblivious to the father’s exasperated expression, and asked curiously, “Uncle, why is this kid crying?”

Zhong Jin called out again, “Stop gawking and get inside. And remember, don’t lie on the floor!”