Suddenly being scolded, the woman in the straw hat was momentarily stunned.
She then shouted back, "Who are you? Why are you cursing at me right off the bat?"
"Who am I? I'm Lei Feng, let me tell you. What kind of courage do you have to gossip behind someone's back? If you have the guts, say it to their face. She's right there, just a few steps away. Why don't you go over and say it?"
"What did I say? Don't slander me."
In front of the fiery Aunt Liang, the straw-hat woman was clearly no match, her confidence dropping by more than a level.
Aunt Liang put her hands on her hips, "I heard everything you said. You dare spread rumors about the police station chief? You’ve got some nerve."
The straw-hat woman didn’t dare respond, staying silent for a while before muttering quietly,
"What rumors did I spread? Everyone saw it. What’s so great about coming from a big city? Always wearing a mask like she’s some big star. Her acting is terrible. You know what they say online? Watching her act is like having your heart cut out."
Qiu Sheng and the others heard the commotion and were carrying a water bucket over when they caught that last sentence.
Zhong Jin, holding Little Tong in her arms, quickened her pace and stepped in front of Qiu Sheng.
The onlookers, seeing Zhong Jin and the others approaching, silently distanced themselves from the straw-hat woman but didn’t go far, staying nearby to watch the drama unfold.
Aunt Liang ignored them and continued her tirade,
"If you’re such a great actress, why isn’t anyone hiring you? What’s wrong with wearing a mask? We’re beautiful and can wear whatever we want. I think it’s your ugly face that should be covered. You’re a public nuisance, always wandering around. Watch out for the city patrol—they might just arrest you. You’re just jealous. She’s from a big city and beautiful, while you’re just a small-town nobody. Your jealousy is so ugly."
Qiu Sheng walked around Zhong Jin and stepped forward, pulling on Aunt Liang’s arm,
"Let’s not argue with her. Let’s go home. I don’t need to explain myself to anyone."
Aunt Liang glared at the straw-hat woman one last time before turning to Qiu Sheng with a gentle tone,
"You all go ahead to the car. I need to grab my seafood. Who knows if it’s been tainted by someone’s foul mouth. What bad luck."
Qiu Sheng nodded, releasing Aunt Liang’s arm, and walked straight to the car without sparing a glance at anyone else.
The sea breeze tugged at her clothes, making her already slender figure appear even more solitary.
Zhong Jin, carrying the child, followed behind, casting a cold glance at the group that had been sitting nearby earlier. Her gaze lingered on the straw-hat woman’s face, carrying a clear warning.
The straw-hat woman, feeling guilty, couldn’t meet her eyes.
A cool breeze carrying the scent of the sea swept by. Zhong Jin didn’t say a word, but the straw-hat woman suddenly shivered.
Xiang Ruicheng, holding Xiang Zimo’s hand in one hand and a large water bucket in the other, walked up as if nothing had happened and called out to Zhong Jin,
"Xiao Zhong, how about coming over to my place for some steamed seafood later?"
Qiu Sheng, also acting as if nothing had happened, turned around and smiled at Xiang Ruicheng, "Brother Xiang, let’s eat at my place. Call Sister Fei too."
Mao Feixue didn’t usually like seafood, but she’d make an exception for something really fresh. After receiving a call from Xiang Ruicheng, she bought some fruit and came over.
Xiang Ruicheng and Zhong Jin were in the kitchen, competing over their cooking skills, neither willing to back down. The kitchen was filled with clattering noises, interspersed with their bickering and Aunt Liang’s loud laughter.
Qiu Sheng walked over and closed the kitchen door, muffling the sounds of the two childish adults. She then went to the living room and took Mao Feixue to her studio to show her the dolls.
On the workbench was a doll dressed in a European-style court dress, the kind seen in period dramas—tight corset, a voluminous skirt with intricate and ornate patterns.
Qiu Sheng explained to Mao Feixue,
"This is called a crinoline dress. It’s the style that the famous Princess Sisi loved. This design is very complex, using embroidery, jewels, tassels, and ribbons to highlight the dress’s elegance. The large skirt requires at least four to six layers to achieve such a luxurious effect."
Mao Feixue, hearing this for the first time, couldn’t help but marvel, "You’re so meticulous. Just looking at this makes me dizzy, let alone making it."
"Different skills for different jobs," Qiu Sheng said casually. "I’m not good with words. If I had to work as a police officer, mediating cases every day, I wouldn’t be able to handle it."
Mao Feixue nodded with a smile, "Exactly, different skills for different jobs. Your career isn’t acting anymore, so why care what others say, right?"
Qiu Sheng reached out and touched the hand-embroidered patterns on the skirt, saying nothing.
Mao Feixue continued,
"Not long after you came back, Zhong Jin suddenly told me to let the colleagues at the station know not to bring up your past as a celebrity if they ever ran into you. At the time, I didn’t understand why, but now I see you’ve been carrying this burden."
Qiu Sheng remembered. No wonder when Zhong Jin was sick and she went to the station to pick up Little Tong, the colleagues there simply greeted her and went about their business.
At the time, she thought it was just the officers being professional, but now she realized Zhong Jin had warned them beforehand.
This was exactly the kind of thing Zhong Jin would do. During the worst two years of her online harassment, she couldn’t even bear to hear the name "Qiu Danhua." Just hearing it made her heart clench—a physical reaction to the trauma.
Back then, Zhong Jin was still just a detective, not yet a captain.
There was one particularly obnoxious detective on their team who, knowing full well how Qiu Sheng felt about the name, would deliberately bring it up every time he saw her, sneering, "The big star is here."
Later, Zhong Jin got into a fight with him. Two detectives brawling in the street—they were even taken in by the local police station.
What a scene.
But after that fight, no one in the detective team dared to make snide remarks in front of her again.
Mao Feixue noticed Qiu Sheng lost in thought, fiddling with the doll’s hair, and assumed she was still thinking about the morning’s incident. She said to her,
"Don’t dwell on it. If there’s anything in the future you don’t want to tell Zhong Jin, you can tell me. After all, I’m the deputy station chief. Anything that happens in this area falls under my jurisdiction."
Qiu Sheng snapped out of her thoughts and smiled at her, "It’s fine. Let’s go see if the seafood is ready."
During dinner, Little Tong ran over to Qiu Sheng and asked, "Can Xiang Zimo and I eat in the little house?"
The "little house" she referred to was her oversized dog bed. She always wanted to take any good food she got into it, as if that made it safer.
Zhong Jin had once called Little Tong a dog, and Qiu Sheng had argued with him about it. Now, Qiu Sheng was starting to wonder—many of Little Tong’s behaviors were eerily similar to their old dog, Bubble.
Normally, they didn’t allow her to take food into the bed—it was too messy.
But today, with her friends around, Qiu Sheng decided to let it slide for the child’s sake and agreed.
There was still work to be done at the station in the afternoon, so after lunch, Zhong Jin and Mao Feixue headed back. Xiang Ruicheng, carrying his sleepy son, also said his goodbyes.
The house returned to its usual quiet.
Aunt Liang was cleaning up in the kitchen when Qiu Sheng walked over and leaned against the doorframe, saying, "Thank you."
Aunt Liang, however, looked displeased, "If you hadn’t stopped me today, I really would’ve torn her mouth off."
"It’s not worth it," Qiu Sheng said.
"You’re just too dignified and elegant. People like her take advantage of your unwillingness to stoop to their level. If you were more fiery, do you think she’d dare mess with you?"
Qiu Sheng replied indifferently, "I’ve fought back before, and it only made things worse. So now, I just let it go."
Aunt Liang’s voice gradually softened.
Qiu Sheng reached out and patted her shoulder, "But today, you were really something, Aunt Liang. I’m giving you an award."
"Is that how you compliment someone? Isn’t ‘something’ usually an insult?"
"‘Something’ is a remarkable title."
Qiu Sheng chatted with Aunt Liang for a while before going to find Little Tong. The child was lying in her dog bed, her round head resting against the small entrance, eyes closed as if she were asleep.
As soon as Qiu Sheng approached, her eyes fluttered open.
“Hehe, I was pretending to sleep.”
Qiu Sheng crouched down and patted the fluffy head of the child. “Do you want to go to bed with Mommy?”
The child nodded.
Huffing and puffing, she crawled out of the small doorway, then turned back to look at the hole she had just struggled through. “I’m too fat; I almost got stuck there.”
“It’s not you; the hole is just too small. I’ll ask your dad to get you a bigger one later.”
Back in the bedroom, Qiu Sheng lifted the blanket and was startled.
Under the blanket was a live green crab, tied up and staring at her with its tiny black eyes, looking utterly confused.
Earlier, she vaguely remembered Zhong Jin and Xiang Ruicheng talking in the kitchen about how they had caught seven crabs that day, but now one was missing.
Turns out, it was here.
“Did you put this here?”
The child blinked her big, bright eyes. “I gave it to Mommy.”
Qiu Sheng, “...Thank you, sweetheart.” Then, too afraid to touch the live crab, she quickly called for Aunt Liang.
The bedsheets and duvet cover that the crab had slept on would be changed later by Aunt Liang, so Qiu Sheng took Little Tong to nap on Zhong Jin’s bed.
The bed carried Zhong Jin’s scent, like clothes washed with soap and dried thoroughly in the sun, a faint, nostalgic fragrance.
Qiu Sheng fell asleep almost as soon as she lay down.
She slept until dusk. The curtains in the bedroom were open, and the sky outside was dark and gloomy. The room was dimly lit, with only the faint outlines of furniture visible.
Qiu Sheng reached out to feel around beside her but didn’t find Little Tong. The child must have woken up and gone out to play.
In the twilight of the overcast day, the large room felt desolate, as if the world had abandoned her.
Suddenly, someone turned on the bedroom light. The cloud-shaped lamp on the ceiling lit up, bathing the room in a warm, bright glow.
Zhong Jin stood at the door. “Awake? Get changed; we’re going out for dinner.”
Qiu Sheng put on simple clothes, didn’t bother styling her messy hair, and just threw on a baseball cap before following him to the car.
When Zhong Jin said they were going out for dinner, Qiu Sheng assumed it would be to a restaurant. But as the SUV drove up a mountain road, the surroundings grew increasingly desolate. The area was pitch black, illuminated only by the car’s headlights.
Qiu Sheng patted Zhong Jin’s shoulder. “Hey, be honest. How much trouble are you in outside?”
Zhong Jin, “Don’t ask. Knowing too much isn’t good for you.”
“But shouldn’t I at least know where we’re running away to?”
Little Tong, sitting in her child seat, leaned back with her feet swinging leisurely. Hearing her parents’ nonsense, the chubby child tilted her head and calmly chimed in,
“We’re running into a chicken’s belly.”
She kicked the back of the driver’s seat with her little feet. “I smell fried chicken. When are we eating?”
Zhong Jin, “...You’ve got a nose like a dog.”
The car drove all the way to the mountainside, where there was a viewing platform with pavilions and railings. On clear days, you could see the breathtaking ocean view from here.
But today, the weather was bad, and all that was visible was thick fog ahead.
Because of the poor weather, the viewing platform was completely empty.
Zhong Jin took out a thermal bag from the trunk, unpacked a family bucket of fried chicken, and brought out a few cups of hot drinks.
After setting everything up on the stone table in the pavilion, Zhong Jin remembered the candles he had bought during the last typhoon-induced blackout and brought two over to light.
Qiu Sheng leaned against the railing, watching the two white candles cast a small pool of light. In this remote wilderness, it felt eerily unsettling.
Zhong Jin, however, seemed oblivious. He probably thought he was being romantic.
“Come over and eat before it gets cold,” he called out to Qiu Sheng.
Her chubby child, having wiped her hands with a wet wipe, was already munching on a chicken leg, her eyes squinted in satisfaction as she swung her feet and swayed her head contentedly.
Qiu Sheng resigned herself to the situation and walked over, sitting down at the table. She took the cup of Ceylon tea Zhong Jin handed her, feeling the warmth in her palms. She took a sip, and the warmth spread to her stomach.
After finishing her meal, Little Tong placed her hands behind her back, pretending to be an airplane, and ran back and forth across the open area in front of the pavilion, making “whooshing” sounds.
Zhong Jin leaned against a pillar of the pavilion and said to Qiu Sheng, who stood beside him, “Do you remember when I took you to the rooftop back in high school?”
Of course, she remembered.
Unlike Zhong Jin, who was a natural academic genius, Qiu Sheng wasn’t particularly gifted in academics, especially when it came to science. At their nationally renowned high school, Qiu Sheng’s grades were only above average, and even that required her utmost effort.
During her senior year, she performed poorly in several mock exams, and her parents kept pressuring her, causing her immense stress. She often woke up crying in the middle of the night.
Zhong Jin would secretly buy beer and take her to the rooftop to drink. After a few drinks, he’d encourage her to shout and scream on the empty rooftop.
After venting, she would feel better for a while. Whenever the pressure built up again, the two of them would sneak back to the rooftop to drink and shout.
Hearing this, Qiu Sheng already guessed why Zhong Jin had brought her here.
“You’re not expecting me to shout here, are you? I’m not under any pressure right now.”
Zhong Jin put his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the dark night ahead. Calmly, he said, “Try shouting Qiu Danhua’s name. See if it makes you feel better.”
“No, that’s embarrassing,” Qiu Sheng muttered, kicking a pebble on the ground with the tip of her shoe.
“What’s embarrassing? There’s no one else here.”
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
“What’s there to be afraid of? Just shout like you used to.”
“Back then, I was drunk.”
“There’s beer in the car. Should I get you one?”
As the two of them were caught in this back-and-forth, the child running around in front of them stopped. Facing the vast, dark sky beyond the railing, she shouted at the top of her lungs,
“I, Zhong Yuntong, still won’t go to kindergarten. Bye-bye!”
