Eating Melons in the Police Station

Chapter 18

The children in the daycare don’t need to study. They spend their days eating, drinking, and simply passing the time. The morning sun was warm, and the weather wasn’t too hot, so all the kids ran outside to play. The swings, the slides, and the sandpit were swarming with children.

Miao Qingyue, as usual, sat in the corner of the classroom. Sometimes she would gaze out the window at the children running freely outside, but most of the time, she kept to herself, playing with puzzles or picking at a worn spot on her wheelchair.

But today, she wasn’t alone. Two children had gathered around her.

The shorter, chubby girl with a bowl cut was named Zhong Yuntong. She was talkative and loved being in the middle of things, chattering away nonstop.

The slim, tall boy, who stood like a young poplar tree, was named Xiang Zimo. Unlike Zhong Yuntong, he wasn’t much of a talker. Most of the time, he just listened quietly, occasionally chiming in with a word or two.

Miao Qingyue sometimes wanted to join their conversations, but she had never played with other children before. She felt shy and worried that she might say something wrong and scare them away, so she remained silent.

Zhong Yuntong leaned her chin on her hands, staring out the window with a sigh. “Let’s go outside and play.”

Xiang Zimo nodded. “Sure.”

Zhong Yuntong turned to Miao Qingyue. “Let’s take her with us.”

Miao Qingyue stiffened and whispered, “I don’t want to go out.”

Xiang Zimo offered, “I’ll push her wheelchair.”

Zhong Yuntong jumped down from the low windowsill, took her little water bottle, and stuffed it into Miao Qingyue’s arms. Tilting her head, she said, “The one with the seat has to carry the stuff.”

Miao Qingyue, now holding the suddenly acquired water bottle, protested softly, “But I don’t want to go out.”

Her protest was clearly ignored. Xiang Zimo handed his water bottle to her too. “Can you carry two bottles?”

“I... I can.”

And so, Miao Qingyue, clutching two cartoon-themed water bottles, was wheeled out to the playground by her new friends. Xiang Zimo, who wasn’t even as tall as the wheelchair, couldn’t see the path ahead while pushing it. Zhong Yuntong held onto the armrest, guiding the way steadily.

Teacher Zhuang watched from under the eaves but didn’t intervene.

Miao Qingyue was three and a half years old and had been staying at the daycare for a year. It had been a lonely year for her. The other children didn’t want to play with her, partly because they were a little scared, and partly because their parents had warned them not to get too close to a disabled child, fearing accidents or misunderstandings.

Teacher Zhuang didn’t have much to say about it. She couldn’t force the other children to play with Miao Qingyue, but she was happy to see some kids taking the initiative now, as long as safety was ensured.

Zhong Yuntong and Xiang Zimo pushed Miao Qingyue across the playground, heading toward the big tree, but they were stopped by a roadblock.

A chubby, dark-skinned boy, accompanied by a few others, blocked their path. In a gruff, boyish voice, he commanded, “You can’t play with Miao Qingyue.”

Zhong Yuntong let go of the wheelchair and took a step forward. “Let’s play together.”

The chubby boy, whose name was Luo Jiahao (nicknamed Mantou, or “Steamed Bun”), stammered when he saw the pretty girl. “I... I’m Luo Jiahao. My nickname is Mantou. You’re younger than me, so you should call me Mantou Gege (Big Brother Mantou).”

Zhong Yuntong replied seriously, “Okay, Mo (a colloquial term for steamed bun). My name is Zhong Yuntong. Want to play?”

“But... I’m not called Mo.”

Zhong Yuntong patiently explained, “Mantou is Mo, and Mo is Mantou.”

Thinking she was mocking him, Luo Jiahao pouted and ran off, threatening, “I’m telling the teacher!”

Zhong Yuntong turned back, took hold of the wheelchair again, and said, “Let’s go.”

Under the big tree, there was a row of small, rainbow-colored stools. The two children pushed Miao Qingyue’s wheelchair over and lined it up with the stools. The three of them sat side by side, sipping from their straw cups.

Zhong Yuntong finished half her water in one go, set the cup down, and stood up, leaning on her knees.

She walked over to Miao Qingyue, placing her hands on Miao Qingyue’s thighs. “Miao Yueyue, can I play with your wheelchair?”

“H-how do you play?” Miao Qingyue felt a sense of foreboding.

Zhong Yuntong stepped onto the wheelchair’s footrest and turned to Xiang Zimo. “You push.”

The obedient Xiang Zimo hesitated. He glanced at Teacher Zhuang, who didn’t object, then asked Miao Qingyue, “Is that okay?”

Miao Qingyue, still reserved, pursed her lips. Zhong Yuntong’s bright, sparkling eyes were right in front of her. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded softly.

Xiang Zimo carefully pushed the wheelchair forward, cautioning, “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

Miao Qingyue shook her head, her lips still pressed together. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Xiang Zimo, too short to see the path ahead, didn’t notice a small pebble. The wheel hit it, causing the wheelchair to tilt slightly.

Zhong Yuntong, standing on the footrest, lost her balance and instinctively wrapped her arms around Miao Qingyue’s neck.

The two children ended up in a close embrace, their cheeks pressed together. Miao Qingyue could smell the sweet, strawberry scent of Zhong Yuntong’s shampoo and feel the warmth of her little body.

Zhong Yuntong giggled, puckered her lips, and planted a kiss on Miao Qingyue’s cheek.

Miao Qingyue’s face turned as red as a ripe tomato.

Teacher Zhuang, standing under the eaves, raised her phone and snapped a photo of the scene, sending it to the parents’ group chat.

Miao’s Father and his wife ran a small seaside inn. They had just finished serving a group of picky guests from the city. The guests had been difficult, but for the sake of business, Miao’s Father and Miao’s Mother had kept smiling. After finally settling the guests, Miao’s Father was left feeling frustrated.

But when he saw the photo of his daughter hugging another child, his bad mood vanished. He rushed into the kitchen, showing the photo to Miao’s Mother, who was sorting vegetables.

The couple exchanged a look, and Miao’s Mother asked happily, “Did Yueyue make a friend?”

Meanwhile, Zhong Jin replied in the group chat, [Teacher, please take Zhong Yuntong down. She’s heavy.]

Miao’s Father quickly responded, [It’s fine, it’s fine. Let them play.]

The wheelchair circled the playground twice. The other children watched from a distance, but no one dared to approach. Zhong Yuntong and Xiang Zimo, tired from playing, wheeled Miao Qingyue back to the classroom.

The three children gathered around the craft table to work on a puzzle. By the afternoon, they had completed a Cinnamoroll puzzle. Teacher Zhuang helped them hang it neatly on the classroom wall.

At the police station, the day was busy. Early that morning, there had been a drunk driving accident. The victim had suffered severe liver and spleen injuries and was in critical condition. The drunk driver, now sober, was being questioned.

Officer Mao Feixue was in charge of the interrogation. Zhong Jin ran into her in the hallway and asked about the case. The two stood chatting for a while.

Mao Feixue’s phone buzzed, and Zhong Jin gestured for her to check it.

She glanced at the screen and smiled. “It’s a photo from Zimo. Look.”

She showed Zhong Jin the photo of the Cinnamoroll puzzle.

A voice message followed: [Mom, this is the puzzle I did with Yuntong and Miao Qingyue. Teacher Zhuang hung it up for us.]

“Your son sent this? How?” Zhong Jin asked.

Mao Feixue typed a reply: [Zimo, you did great. Take care of the girls, and everyone stay safe.] She looked up and explained, “It’s a kids’ smartwatch. All the children have them now.”

Zhong Jin pondered whether it was necessary to get one for Zhong Yuntong. Would she be able to use it at such a young age?

Mao Feixue received another message from Xiang Zimo: [Mom, I love you.]

Zhong Jin made up her mind. She would take Zhong Yuntong to buy a smartwatch that evening. Not just to hear “I love you,” but simply to stay connected.

*

"Press this spot to call me. And press here to send me a message. I’ll reply when I receive it. Hey, pay attention, don’t look around."

After buying the kids' smartwatch, Zhong Jin took the child and sat on the long bench outside the phone store, teaching her how to use the watch.

Little Tong had zero interest in the watch. She sat on the bench, swinging her legs, her chubby little finger pointing at the sausage stand ahead. "I want to eat that."

"...Alright then." Zhong Jin put the watch away for now. He had definitely acted on impulse—this thing was way too complicated for a three-year-old. She didn’t even care to glance at it.

A few people were already lined up in front of the sausage stand. Zhong Jin, holding Little Tong, joined the end of the queue. In front of them was a mother and son, the boy looking like an elementary school student.

Because they were so close, the conversation between the mother and son was clearly audible.

The little boy said to his mom, "Today, the tutor asked us what our dreams are. Zhao Leyuan said he wants to be a musician, and Tong Chengze said he wants to be a scientist."

"What about you?" the mom asked.

The little boy replied, "I don’t want to work. My dream is to be a rich adult. If I can buy lots of ice cream, fried chicken, sausages, and spicy sticks, I’ll be totally happy."

The boy’s mom chuckled wryly, "Son, you’re being too optimistic... But having dreams is always good."

Zhong Jin noticed Little Tong perking up her ears to listen, so he bounced the chubby child in his arms and asked, "Do you have a dream?"

What kind of dream could a three-year-old possibly have? Zhong Jin was just asking casually.

Little Tong clasped her tiny hands over her chest, her big eyes shining faintly in the night. With a serious expression, she declared, "My dream is to be a sausage master. I’ll make sausages and eat them myself."

Zhong Jin, "...Alright then, having dreams is always good."