Chapter Thirty-Eight — A Visit to the Police Station

“What were you doing there so late at night?”
A middle-aged policeman in his forties sat on a wooden chair, his arms folded on the table, body leaning forward, his sharp gaze fixed intently on the people before him.
Out of professional habit, regardless of the case’s gravity or the kind of suspect, he always wore a stern, unyielding expression, cold and severe.
Yi Shu was unsettled by his icy stare; all the words she’d prepared to explain herself tumbled and vanished from her mind.
In her more than twenty years, apart from the time she came to the station to report Yan Lu’s disappearance, she’d never set foot in a place like this.
The atmosphere here was always oppressive and solemn. Blue walls, wine-red conference table, a closed space. It felt as though with every word spoken, the air grew heavier, the walls closing in.
“We couldn’t get out...” Yi Shu’s voice was flustered, her mind in chaos. “The door was locked, and our phones were dead. So...”
“So you started smashing the door?” the policeman pressed, following up on her words.
“What else were we supposed to do?” Tang Chao couldn’t help but interject. “Were we supposed to stay there all night?”
“Watch your tone!” the policeman warned him.
“What’s wrong with my tone?” Tang Chao retorted, full of indignation. “If it were you, wouldn’t you have done the same?”
The policeman cleared his throat, dodging the question. “Did you wait until the Textile City closed, planning to steal something? You both look educated—how could you do such a thing?”
“We are educated,” Tang Chao’s brows knit together, his forehead furrowed tight. “And if you have no evidence, don’t make wild assumptions and pin crimes on us. Does being a police officer give you the right to accuse people at will?”
“Young man, there’s no need to be so aggressive,” the policeman responded, surprisingly unruffled.
Tang Chao was about to speak again when Yi Shu hurried to stop him.
“I work at Textile City.” Her mind regained a measure of composure. “For some reason, I finished late, so I got locked in.”
“You work there?” He eyed her suspiciously, studying every nuance of her expression and movement. “Do you have an employee badge? What’s the name of your store, which company do you work for, and what’s your manager’s phone number?”
Yi Shu was thrown off by his barrage of questions, as if he’d memorized a script in advance. She knew the answers—store name, company, manager’s number—but after such a serious incident, if word reached her boss, a scolding would be the least of it. She might even lose her job. Liu Hanzhang’s warnings were still ringing in her ears. Was she about to lose the hard-won opportunity she’d fought for?
She took a thumb-sized badge from her bag, the words “Textile City Employee” printed in bold black letters.
Seeing the badge, the policeman was largely convinced by her explanation. “And you?” he indicated toward Tang Chao with a tilt of his chin.
“I’m not an employee,” Tang Chao replied, still surly. “I was there to buy curtains.”
“Buying curtains at such a late hour?” The policeman turned his gaze back to Yi Shu, waiting for an answer.
“There’s no rule about when you can shop,” Tang Chao said.
“I wasn’t asking you!” the policeman barked.
Yi Shu hesitated. “He’s there to buy curtains. And, thanks to him, I couldn’t get out.”
As he questioned them, the policeman took notes with a fountain pen in a thick, leather-bound notebook.
He was about to continue when there was a knock at the door of the interrogation room.
Xu Shixi and Tang Dai appeared in the doorway. Behind them stood a smaller, nervy figure—her brother, Su Yihui.
What were the three of them doing here together?

“Are you the relatives?” The middle-aged policeman stood up.
“Yes,” Xu Shixi answered crisply.
Yet those two brief syllables set off a chain reaction—Yi Shu was moved; Tang Dai was shaken; Tang Chao unsettled; Yihui quietly relieved.
Within ten minutes, the course of events was clarified. Xu Shixi, understanding Yi Shu’s concerns, took the initiative to shoulder all responsibility for the losses, hoping the police wouldn’t escalate the matter.
Tang Dai couldn’t help chastising Tang Chao, still unaware he had deliberately approached Yi Shu for the sake of his own feelings, trying every means to sabotage their relationship.
“How did you end up with her?” Tang Dai’s eyes brimmed with questions.
“It’s a long story,” Tang Chao replied awkwardly, forcing a smile. “Sis, whatever you do, don’t tell Dad. You know what he’s like—if he finds out, he’ll skin me alive.”
“If you knew he’d be angry, why did you do it?” Tang Dai raised her voice.
Five people, plus the policeman—six in total—crowded into the small interrogation room, each carrying their own tangled but similar thoughts. The room was soundproof; not a murmur could be heard from outside.
Night had fallen to its deepest.
Yi Shu stood by the wall. Yihui kept close, silent as a shadow. Since he’d entered, he hadn’t spoken a word. He’d never experienced such a scene, let alone with Tang Chao present. The worries he harbored about him were always there, best left unthought, for once recalled they rushed in like a flood, impossible to hold back.
He had neither the time nor mind to question why his sister was with Tang Chao.
After scolding her brother, Tang Dai pulled him back a few steps, waiting quietly for the police to announce their decision.
Xu Shixi became the spokesman, stepping forward to negotiate.
“Officer, why don’t we do this—whatever the damages are, we’ll pay them in full, no matter the amount.” His sincerity was clear, a plea in his eyes.
The policeman, moved by their earnestness and trusting his own decades of experience, judged Yi Shu and Tang Chao to be forgivable, not petty criminals. He had them sign paperwork, paid the compensation, and allowed them to leave.
Emerging into the station’s lobby, they saw several police cars parked in neat rows on the forecourt.
The night was impenetrably thick. The sky was dull and starless, the moon nowhere to be seen.
“I’m sorry for causing you trouble again,” Yi Shu murmured, guilt and regret welling up in her. How could she have agreed to Tang Chao’s absurd idea?
“There’s no need to blame yourself,” Xu Shixi said gently, his gaze full of tenderness. “A boyfriend is meant to be troubled by his girlfriend. Otherwise, what right do I have to be the man you entrust your life to?”
Yi Shu turned away shyly, looking at the shrubbery by the roadside, happiness blooming quietly in her heart.
“About the compensation...” she paused, awkward, “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
Though it wasn’t much money, Yihui was about to enter university, there were still debts to settle. She’d calculated carefully—this month’s salary would just cover it all.
“No need—” Xu Shixi stopped himself, knowing her nature. She hated to owe anyone, even her own boyfriend. Unless one day they were married, she would only accept love unconditionally; money and material things, she was always reluctant. Perhaps it was pride—humble as it might be.
“Take your time, no rush,” he said warmly, his face gentle as a spring breeze, shining in the night like starlight.
“You don’t have to pay!” Tang Chao strode forward, agitated. “This has nothing to do with you. I got you locked in, I broke the glass door—I’ll pay Xu Shixi back.”
Xu Shixi, still baffled by the night’s events, finally had the chance to ask questions he’d been unable to at the station.
Tang Chao claimed he’d just happened to be there, and everything else was a string of accidents.

Yi Shu, mindful of Tang Dai’s presence, didn’t dare speak plainly. The truth was too absurd, too humiliating to lay bare. She glossed over the cause in a few vague sentences.
Xu Shixi, trusting her, didn’t press further.
Tang Dai’s frustration erupted the moment they left the police station.
“How much trouble are you going to cause?” Her words were sharp, her eyes blazing. “You smashed a door this time—will you kill someone next?” After forcing herself to calm down, she turned to Yi Shu. “This was my brother’s fault, not yours. You don’t need to shoulder the blame. I’ll pay Xu Shixi back. It’s not much anyway!”
Tang Dai, though forceful and sometimes ruthless, was clear-sighted about right and wrong. She could guess a little of what had happened between Tang Chao and Yi Shu—after all, when she’d started dating Xu Shixi, he’d been involved in the latter half of that story.
A red freight truck roared past, trailing its echo down the road.
The dust it raised thickened the stuffy air.
Yihui walked a few steps behind, trying to be invisible, his head down, counting the paving stones, content to be a silent listener.
He tugged at Yi Shu’s sleeve, head bent—he was a few centimeters taller than her, their eyes level. “Let’s go home.”
Yi Shu looked at him for a few seconds.
It was late—the streets had emptied, the traffic sparse. It must be after nine.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Xu Shixi offered, turning to the others. “Maybe you two should take a cab as well.”
“We live nearby. We should go back together,” Tang Dai said, stepping forward.
They live nearby? Yi Shu was startled. Just how close did they live? He’d never told her they were neighbors. Now she said it on purpose, so deliberately, clearly plotting something.
“My boyfriend should be the one to take me home,” Yi Shu said, deliberately provoking her, asserting her claim, her brows raised in defiance. She never would have imagined herself so bold—perhaps it was the power of love.
Tang Dai was left speechless. She’d expected Yi Shu to decline politely, giving her a chance to walk with Xu Shixi.
But plans never keep pace with fate.
Though timid by nature, Yi Shu knew how to fight back after being hurt.
Xu Shixi’s delighted smile lingered long on his lips. Her answer was the sweetest, most beautiful promise.
At the corner, they hailed a taxi. Xu Shixi opened the door, shielding Yi Shu’s head as she got in, then patted Yihui’s back so he’d sit beside his sister. He circled to the front passenger seat and got in.
Lowering the window, he leaned out and called to Tang Dai and Tang Chao, “We’ll be off, then.”
Tang Dai stood frozen, her eyes vacant, her heart being wrung by an icy hand. In the height of summer, she felt as cold as winter.
Tang Chao watched the car vanish into the dusk, the twin red taillights shrinking to pinpricks and then disappearing. Even the temperature around him seemed to drop by several degrees.