Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 87

That ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‍evening when they returned home, Aunt Liang had prepared lamb soup for dinner. Knowing Little Tong loved gnawing on bones, she had specially saved two large leg bones for her.

Watching the child happily chewing on the bones, Zhong Jin couldn't resist teasing: "Puppies need to chew more to sharpen their teeth."

Little Tong, cradling her meaty bone, bumped her round head against Zhong Jin's arm in protest—her big-headed way of warning him not to talk nonsense.

After dinner, Aunt Liang carried the grease-faced child off for a bath. With Qiu Sheng away these past few days, Aunt Liang had been staying to bathe Little Tong before heading home.

Dressed in leopard-print thermal pajamas, Little Tong stood by the entryway to see Aunt Liang off, waving her small hand. "See you tomorrow, Auntie! Ride safely, okay?"

Aunt Liang urged her, "Hurry inside, sweetheart. The cold wind will rush in when I open the door."

Once Aunt Liang left, Little Tong scampered back to the sofa, climbing onto it by bracing herself against Zhong Jin's knees. "Daddy, call Mommy on video!"

Zhong Jin set aside his crime novel, picked up his phone, and dialed Qiu Sheng's video call.

The line rang for a while before it connected.

Qiu Sheng's aunt and uncle had returned from abroad for Christmas and were still staying at her place. With so many relatives around, she hadn’t found the right moment to bring up Little Tong.

So she had to answer the call discreetly, sneaking back to her bedroom to pick up.

Little Tong clung to the phone, chattering sweetly with her mother before launching into a detailed, rambling account of her day at the police station. She recounted every little thing, jumping from topic to topic without any logical order.

Zhong Jin would have lost patience long ago, but Qiu Sheng listened enthusiastically on the other end, offering encouraging reactions even when she couldn’t quite follow.

After their long chat, Little Tong crawled across the sofa back to Zhong Jin. "Daddy, tell me a story."

Zhong Jin put his novel aside and turned to fetch a picture book.

But Little Tong grabbed the crime novel instead. "I want a grown-up story."

Zhong Jin raised an eyebrow. "You sure? This one’s scary."

"I’m sure," Little Tong nodded firmly.

So Zhong Jin flipped to the first page and started reading aloud, expecting her to lose interest quickly. To his surprise, her wide eyes remained glued to him, utterly engrossed.

During particularly gruesome case details, Zhong Jin skimmed lightly, but even then, the content was far beyond what a three-year-old should be hearing.

He paused several times to ask, "Not scared?"

Interrupted mid-fascination, Little Tong headbutted him in annoyance. "Don’t bother me, just keep reading!"

And so he continued.

Unconsciously, they read past 10 p.m.—Zhong Jin himself so absorbed in the plot that he didn’t notice the time until Sang Biao, dozing on his head, lost balance and tumbled down, snapping them out of it.

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Zhong Jin bookmarked the page and closed the novel. "It’s too late. Bedtime. We’ll read more tomorrow."

Little Tong yawned hugely, stretching her arms toward him. "Carry me."

He bent down and lifted her.

In the middle of the night, Zhong Jin was jostled awake. He blinked groggily. "What’s wrong?"

Little Tong pinched the hard muscle of his arm. "I need to pee. Come with me."

Zhong Jin found it odd—she usually went alone. But he got up and followed her to the bathroom. "Go ahead. I’ll wait outside."

Little Tong shut the door behind her, then called out, "Sing for me."

Suddenly, Zhong Jin understood: the crime story must have spooked her, and now she was too scared to pee alone.

He suppressed a laugh. Even scared, the kid had her pride—too embarrassed to admit it outright.

Not one to tease her at a time like this, Zhong Jin stood outside the door and hummed softly.

After a few notes, Little Tong’s voice piped up from inside: "Stop."

Zhong Jin: "What’s wrong?"

A loud, milky voice retorted: "You sound kinda bad."

"Hey, you’re one to talk. You inherited my singing."

Little Tong: "I’m different. Mommy sings well, so half of me sings well."

Father and daughter bickered over who was the worse singer, culminating in a full-blown midnight argument. They ended up bundled in their separate blankets, backs turned, each stubbornly facing opposite directions.

*

Though Zhong Jin and Zhong Yuntong had quarreled, neither held grudges. By morning, they’d made up and happily headed out for a KFC breakfast together.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in Jing City, the Qiu family villa was the stage for a real father-son showdown.

It started when Tao Siyuan accidentally discovered chat logs on Qiu Chen’s computer with an early-education tutor, mentioning a three-and-a-half-year-old child needing lessons. She also spotted unclosed browser tabs showing purchases of children’s books.

Confronted, Qiu Chen claimed he was helping a friend’s kid.

Neither Qiu Zhengrui nor Tao Siyuan bought it—since when did his friends need him to arrange tutors?

So Qiu Zhengrui investigated Qiu Chen’s spending records.

The findings were explosive: over the past two months, Qiu Chen had splurged hundreds of thousands on toys—all for kids aged 3-5, not infants.

There was no way Qiu Chen had suddenly acquired a child this big.

Qiu Zhengrui and Tao Siyuan concluded their wayward son must be involved with a woman who already had a child—likely a married one, hence his secrecy.

Armed with the receipts, Qiu Zhengrui stormed off to confront Qiu Chen.

With both the aunt’s and uncle’s families staying over—a dozen relatives, some rather meddlesome—and Qiu Chen still unmarried, the timing was terrible. (His uncle had even floated "adopting" his own grandson as Qiu Chen’s heir—a transparent power play.)

Amid the prying eyes, Qiu Chen refused to come clean about Little Tong.

Qiu Zhengrui, convinced the evidence was irrefutable, took his son’s evasion as guilt.

Back and forth they went, their argument escalating in the study.

Qiu Sheng, returning from a meeting with a media team, found a crowd gathered noisily outside the second-floor study.

Handing her bag to the maid, she asked, "What’s going on in there?"

The nanny took the bag and replied, "Director Qiu and Qiu Chen are arguing. I don't know what exactly it’s about."

Qiu Sheng changed her shoes and walked upstairs.

Relatives were still crowded at the door, eavesdropping on the drama. Qiu Sheng caught a few key phrases—"child," "another woman," and the like—and guessed it was probably another argument about Little Tong.

She approached them and said, "Uncle, Auntie, you must be tired from your trip to Xiangshan today. Why don’t you go rest in your rooms?"

They seemed reluctant to leave. Her uncle waved a hand dismissively. "We’re family. How can we just stand by while your father and Qiu Chen are fighting like this? Let me go in and mediate."

Qiu Sheng’s voice turned colder. "This is our family matter. There’s no need for you to trouble yourselves."

Her uncle, rebuffed with such indifference, looked displeased. But since they were guests in the house, he couldn’t say much. The group dispersed reluctantly.

Only after watching them return to their rooms did Qiu Sheng push open the study door and step inside.

The European-style study was bathed in a dim, aged glow. Qiu Zhengrui and Qiu Chen sat facing each other, both visibly furious.

Tao Siyuan sat further away on the sofa, watching them with concern.

The moment she saw Qiu Sheng enter, Tao Siyuan’s eyes lit up as if she’d finally found a lifeline. She hurriedly said,

"Qiu Sheng, talk some sense into your brother. He’s acting like he’s possessed—raising some other woman’s child outside and refusing to admit it. Who knows what kind of spell she’s put on him?"

Qiu Sheng nodded. "Yes, there is a child."

Her words sent shockwaves through the room. The three others reacted differently.

Qiu Chen closed his eyes, sinking back into the plush sofa with a relieved exhale.

The heavy burden on his shoulders could finally be lifted.

Meanwhile, Qiu Zhengrui and Tao Siyuan were stunned. They spoke almost in unison: "You knew about this?!"

Qiu Sheng: "Yes. I knew before my brother did."

Qiu Zhengrui raised a hand sharply. "Tell me—is this woman married?"

Qiu Sheng: "She was. Now she’s divorced."

Tao Siyuan gasped and shot to her feet. "Is the child your brother’s?"

"No."

Just as they’d suspected—Qiu Chen was raising someone else’s child. The useless boy couldn’t even have his own, yet he was eager to raise another’s.

Qiu Zhengrui raised a hand to strike Qiu Chen.

Qiu Chen ducked, shielding his head, and shouted, "The child is Qiu Sheng’s!"

Qiu Zhengrui’s hand froze mid-air. "What?"

Qiu Sheng: "It’s mine. Mine and Zhong Jin’s child."

The revelation sent Qiu Zhengrui and Tao Siyuan into stunned silence, their eyes widening in disbelief. While Qiu Zhengrui managed to keep his composure, Tao Siyuan immediately began rambling incoherently. The only phrase Qiu Sheng could make out was:

"When did you have a child?!"

Qiu Sheng recited the prepared answer: "You and Dad were in Norway for six months. The child was born during that time."

"Why didn’t you tell us?!" Tao Siyuan pressed.

This time, Qiu Zhengrui stepped in with an excuse: "Was it because of Zhong Jin’s work? Did you have to keep the child a secret?"

Qiu Sheng seized the lifeline. "Yes. It was Zhong Jin’s idea to keep it quiet."

Tao Siyuan cried out, "But we’re your parents! How could you hide this from us?!"

When Qiu Sheng pressed her lips together and stayed silent, Tao Siyuan redirected her anger at Qiu Chen. "And you! You helped them keep this secret for over three years. We had no idea we even had a grandchild!"

Qiu Chen corrected, "Granddaughter."

"That doesn’t make it any better!"

After berating both children, Qiu Zhengrui and Tao Siyuan’s shock gradually melted into joy at the sudden revelation of a granddaughter.

"Where is the child now?" Qiu Zhengrui demanded. "Bring her to me immediately."

Qiu Sheng replied calmly, "She can’t come. She’s in Haishan with Zhong Jin. The original plan was for Zhong Jin to bring her during the Spring Festival break."

Qiu Zhengrui made an executive decision. "Call Zhong Jin right now. I want to see the child on video."

And so, Qiu Sheng had no choice but to dial Zhong Jin’s video call.

*

Zhong Jin was sprawled lazily on the sofa watching a soccer game, wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt with a cartoon dog printed on the front—a matching set with Little Tong’s.

A rooster named Sanbiao perched on his head, scratching at his hair with its claws and leaving it a tousled mess.

When Qiu Sheng’s call came through, Zhong Jin answered without a second thought.

The video connected—only to reveal the stern faces of Qiu Zhengrui and Tao Siyuan staring back at him.

Zhong Jin froze for a few seconds before bolting upright, spine stiffening.

Noticing the rooster still perched on his head in the preview window, he discreetly shoved it off and smoothed down his hair.

Clearing his throat, he hesitated between calling them "Mom and Dad" or "Auntie and Uncle," unsure which would be appropriate.

Qiu Zhengrui ignored his awkwardness and cut straight to the point. "Where’s the child? Show her to me."

"She’s in the bedroom. I’ll go get her."

Zhong Jin stood, suddenly self-conscious about his disheveled appearance, and flipped the camera to the rear lens.

The screen now showed a rainbow-colored nursery as the bedroom door opened.

The room was spacious, and after a few steps, the camera captured a small, chubby figure in a snug thermal set, her hair loose as she bent over, absorbed in some mysterious activity.

Zhong Jin called out, "Zhong Yuntong."

The little girl turned around—revealing a face smeared haphazardly with makeup. Her eyes were ringed in black, her mouth circled in bright red, and a comically large "beauty mark" dotted the center of her forehead.

"What?" she snapped impatiently.

Silence hung on Zhong Jin’s end.

On the screen, Qiu Zhengrui burst into hearty laughter. "This child is perfect. She’s definitely our Qiu family’s blood."

Qiu Sheng’s voice came through the phone, dry and amused. "Dad, please explain how you reached that conclusion."