Chapter Two: Lovers Nowhere to Be Found

The Old Zha Police Station stood along the banks of the Suzhou River, right within the Shanghai International Settlement. The administrative building was a three-story European-style structure, its exterior walls painted a striking red that lent it an imposing air. Lofty walls shielded it from prying eyes, and beside the heavy iron gates stood a pair of stone lions, flanked on both sides by uniformed sentries. Above the entrance hung a signboard with bold black characters on a white background: “Old Zha Police Station.”

Lu Hehuan dashed up to the gates like a gust of wind, startling the guards, who hurried to block his way.

“Stop! What’s your business here?”

“I have an urgent matter!” Lu Hehuan tried to skirt around the sentry, but the guard held him back with unyielding arms.

“Doesn’t everyone who comes here have urgent business?”

“Lu Xiang is my father!” pressed Lu Hehuan, forced by circumstance to invoke his father’s name in hopes of easing his way through. But the guard, thinking he was boasting, retorted sarcastically.

“And Mr. Bao Kang is my elder brother!”

Just as Lu Hehuan was entangled in this squabble, a gentle female voice sounded from behind the guard.

“Hehuan?”

Peering through the gates, Lu Hehuan saw a young woman in her early twenties with a bobbed haircut. With her jet-black hair and fair, delicate features, she was the very image of gentle elegance—none other than Bao Rong, the girl next door and his childhood friend.

Bao Rong, clad in a white lab coat and struggling to hold a stack of thick files, looked at Lu Hehuan in delighted surprise.

“Hehuan, I’d heard you were coming back, but I never imagined it would be so soon.”

She came toward him, every gesture betraying her irrepressible joy. The sentries exchanged a look and, with wry faces, quietly slipped away.

Seizing the chance, Lu Hehuan stepped inside and studied Bao Rong closely, finally recognizing her.

“Xiao Rong, what are you doing at the police station? And dressed like that?”

Bao Rong smiled shyly and shook the files in her arms. “Thanks to my brother, I’m a forensic doctor now.”

“A woman forensic doctor?” Lu Hehuan was incredulous.

No sooner had he spoken than he recalled that her brother, Bao Kang, was the station chief; it was hardly surprising then. A smile tugged at his lips, and he looked at her with genuine pride. “Not bad at all—the little tagalong who used to follow me everywhere has grown up.”

A flush crept across Bao Rong’s cheeks as she lowered her head, clutching the files tightly. There was so much to say now that they were reunited, but she could not find the words.

“Did you do well in Britain?” Bao Rong managed at last.

“Very well. And you?”

“I’ve been well too. Just missing a good friend.”

Lu Hehuan knew she meant him and gave her an awkward smile.

Sensing his discomfort, Bao Rong quickly changed the subject. “I heard you’re joining the police force?”

Lu Hehuan nodded. “I’m here to report for duty today.”

“That’s wonderful. We’ll be colleagues, then.” She smiled.

He nodded, but his tone suddenly grew urgent. “Xiao Rong, what happened with Ling Yan’s case? How did she become a murder suspect?”

Bao Rong’s smile faded, as if she had expected the question, yet was still caught off guard. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t started as a forensic doctor then.”

“Could you ask your brother about it?”

Bao Rong looked troubled. “Hehuan, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but you know what my brother is like. When I got back, I asked him about Sister Ling Yan’s case. He was brusque, said the case was closed except for the fugitive suspect, and told me to focus on my own work and stop poking around.”

Lu Hehuan did not press her further and nodded. “I understand, Xiao Rong. Go ahead and get back to work.”

Bao Rong hesitated, clearly wanting to talk with him at length, but seeing his anxious expression, she forced herself to appear magnanimous. “Well… All right, Hehuan. Let’s find time soon to celebrate your return.”

He nodded and hurried off. Bao Rong watched his departing figure, unable to bring herself to move.

Lu Hehuan was no stranger to the station’s layout. He made his way swiftly to the archives. There, a female officer, Sister Nan, stood on duty. He saluted her.

“Hello, I’m Lu Hehuan, newly appointed. I’d like to review the file on the Ling Yan murder case.”

Sister Nan’s heart fluttered at the sight of his handsome face, and she shot him a flirtatious glance.

“Call me Sister Nan.”

Lu Hehuan was straightforward by nature, and her gesture left him baffled.

“Sister Nan, is there something wrong with your eye?”

“Yes,” she replied, “the wind’s strong and I got dust in my eye. Can you help me blow it out?”

He was even more perplexed. “But how could there be wind indoors? Maybe it’s an eye problem. You should see a doctor.”

Annoyed by his obliviousness, Sister Nan rolled her eyes and replied curtly, “You’ll need authorization from Chief Bao to view the file.”

Lu Hehuan hurried away, making straight for the chief’s office.

Inside, Bao Kang was reporting to Gordon, the Chief Inspector of the Shanghai International Settlement. Gordon, a man in his early thirties, sat reading over documents. With his blond hair, blue eyes, broad forehead, and high-bridged nose, he exuded an air of solemn authority that never failed to make Bao Kang tread carefully.

Bao Kang had dressed with special care that day, his burly frame neatly attired in a spotless uniform, even the top button of his collar fastened properly. His hair was slicked back with pomade, gleaming under the light, and his face wore a sycophantic smile as he reported deferentially to Gordon.

“Chief Inspector, the cases I’ve just briefed you on are among the major cases our station has solved in recent years. They’re regarded as mysteries throughout Shanghai, and without the efforts of our entire team, they might well have become cold cases.”

“Many stations have longstanding unsolved cases, but Old Zha has done very good work in this regard,” Gordon remarked with satisfaction.

Bao Kang opened a cabinet and pulled out a stack of thank-you letters and several silk banners.

“These are all banners and letters of gratitude sent by the citizens of Shanghai to Old Zha Police Station and to me…”

Gordon examined one of the banners. “‘Bao Kang, Bao Kang, keep the people safe and sound.’ Is that about you?”

“Not at all, not at all,” Bao Kang replied, though he nodded shamelessly as he spoke.

Gordon closed the file, clearly pleased, and rose to address him. “Good job. As it happens, my inspector, Mr. Zhang, was just transferred this month. You’ll be taking his place—report next Monday.”

Bao Kang’s face lit up with delight and he snapped a salute. “Thank you, Chief Inspector!”

But his joy was premature. Just as he was basking in the prospect of his promotion, the door crashed open—Lu Hehuan burst in.

Both Gordon and Bao Kang started and turned to face him.

Seeing Gordon, Lu Hehuan paused and, mustering his composure, nodded politely before addressing Bao Kang.

“Chief Bao, I need to speak with you. What exactly happened in the Ling Yan murder case? Where is the file?”

Bao Kang scrutinized him for a moment before finally recognizing him. “Lu Hehuan? So it’s you, you impudent brat! Don’t you see I’m in a meeting with Chief Inspector Gordon? Did Scotland Yard teach you nothing about knocking? Has your time abroad made you a fool?”

Lu Hehuan, seeing Bao Kang’s reaction, turned to Gordon and saluted.

“Chief Inspector, I am Lu Hehuan, newly appointed officer. I suspect irregularities in the Ling Yan case from three years ago, and the suspect has yet to be apprehended. I formally request permission to investigate this unresolved case.”

Gordon’s expression darkened. “Chief Bao, didn’t you just claim all old cases have been closed? Now this Ling Yan case surfaces—care to explain?”

“Chief Inspector, I… well…” Bao Kang was at a loss for words.

Gordon snorted. “So all these meritorious deeds come from reporting successes and hiding troubles, do they? I think it’s best you stay in your current post as chief. Since the people say ‘Bao Kang, keep the people safe and sound,’ I’m sure they’ll miss you if you’re promoted.”

With that, Gordon stormed out. Bao Kang’s dreams of promotion vanished in an instant, but he was not about to give up.

“Chief Inspector, please, let me explain—”

He hurried after Gordon, but Lu Hehuan stepped in his path.

“Chief Bao, even if you chase him, he won’t change his mind. You might as well focus on Ling Yan’s case.”

“Lu Hehuan, you’re fired! Get out of my sight this instant!” Bao Kang was livid, glaring and roaring at him.

Lu Hehuan looked helpless. “Chief, about Ling Yan’s case—”

“Out!”

Bao Kang was apoplectic; his slicked hair now disheveled like an enraged tiger, and Lu Hehuan the lamb before him. But an old ram barreled in to defend the lamb—Lu Xiang, his father, appeared in uniform. In his forties, with a broad forehead, full nose, generous earlobes, and features that bore a resemblance to his son, Lu Xiang had rushed over, having heard his son was at the station.

Putting on a conciliatory face, he pleaded, “Chief Bao, please calm down. Did my son do something to upset you? He’s just a child; don’t take it to heart.”

Bao Kang sneered. “Vice Chief Lu, you’ve raised quite a son. He burst in on my meeting with Chief Inspector Gordon, dredged up the old Ling Yan case, and now my promotion’s ruined! If I can’t move up, you can forget about it too!”

Lu Xiang took a deep breath, glaring at his son before composing himself to continue pleading. “It’s my fault for failing to teach him well. Please, Chief Bao, deal with him as you see fit, but dismissal is too severe.”

“Your son’s a big shot from Scotland Yard. Our humble station can’t accommodate him. He’d better leave, or I might lose my own position. If you have no official business, Vice Chief Lu, please go. We don’t see eye to eye anyway.”

Lu Hehuan turned to his father, emotions running high at their reunion. “Father…”

But he was cut off by his father’s angry outburst. “Don’t call me father!”

Lu Xiang stormed out, and Lu Hehuan rushed after him. It seemed these two were fated to quarrel in every life.

Still fuming, Bao Kang paced the station yard, muttering as he rummaged through the bushes.

“No good comes of the Lus—every time I see them, it’s disaster, big disaster!”

Nearby, a proud old hen strutted to and fro, clucking now and then. This hen, Ahua, was Bao Kang’s longtime pet. Orphaned with his sister, he had survived thanks to the daily egg Ahua laid for his younger sibling. As Bao Rong grew older, it was Ahua’s eggs that were sold to supplement the household income. In Bao Kang’s eyes, without Ahua, neither he nor his sister would have survived; her kindness was greater than the sky itself.

Hearing Ahua cluck, Bao Kang looked up, all his earlier ferocity gone.

“Ahua, are you hungry? I’ll catch you some bugs right away. Don’t worry.”

He gazed at her with indulgence and resumed his search for insects.

Meanwhile, Lu Hehuan followed his father home, lost in thought as he pondered how to access the Ling Yan file.

Lu Xiang opened the door and entered. As Lu Hehuan moved to follow, his father suddenly turned and slapped him, launching into a tirade.

“You unfilial son! You ruined my promotion over that murderer Ling Yan!”

“Father…”

“Don’t call me father. I’m not your father.”

“That depends if Mother agrees,” Lu Hehuan replied, knowing his father’s fear of his wife. “Father, Ling Yan couldn’t have killed anyone. I must clear her name.”

“Clear your own head! Get out!” Lu Xiang shoved him out the door.

Hearing the commotion, Lu’s mother, Lin Zhi, emerged with a plate of food to mediate.

“What now? The boy’s just come home, why the shouting…”

Lu Xiang threw out his son’s luggage. Lin Zhi tried to intervene but was held back.

“Out! Reflect on your actions and don’t come back until you’ve learned your lesson!”

He slammed the door, leaving Lu Hehuan standing outside, stunned by his luggage at his feet.

Inside, the quarrel continued.

“Our son’s been gone for three years and you throw him out the moment he returns!”

“He needs to reflect on his mistakes. What’s wrong with disciplining my own son?”

“How many things have you done right over the years? Why don’t you go out and reflect? Lu Xiang, either the boy comes back in or you go out!”

“This is my house! Why should I… Ow, my eye! Stop hitting me—he’s spoiled because of you!”

In the courtyard, Lin Zhi wept as she struck her husband. “Three years I haven’t seen my son, and you throw him out the moment he’s back? This isn’t over, Lu Xiang!”

Lu Hehuan stood at the doorstep, listening to the chaos within, and gave a helpless sigh, imagining the household in a state of uproar.

“Mother, stop hitting Father. I’ll reflect outside, I promise!”

With his parents too busy to notice him, the door across the way opened a crack and Bao Rong slipped out quietly.

“Hehuan?” she called, coming over to comfort him.

He gave a sheepish smile. “Xiao Rong.”

“Don’t blame Uncle Lu. As the proverb says, ‘There are no bad parents in the world; brothers are the hardest to find.’ Whatever he does, he just wants you to succeed.”

He nodded. “I understand. Thank you, Xiao Rong.”

Her smile was gentle.

Still preoccupied with the Ling Yan case, he asked, “Xiao Rong, could you ask your brother to let me see Ling Yan’s file?”

Before she could answer, the Bao family’s door swung open and Bao Kang appeared, exuding authority. He glanced at Lu Hehuan before admonishing his sister.

“What are you looking at? I’m telling you, Xiao Rong, stay out of the archives from now on! And don’t go borrowing case files! Get inside—what’s a girl doing chatting with a man in the street?”

Bao Rong protested, “Brother, as Han Yu wrote, ‘Youth delights in new friends; in old age, one cherishes old ones. Though you’re older than us, you grew up with us. You may not value these friendships now, but when you’re older, you’ll see how precious friends like Hehuan are—”

Irritated by her scholarly retort, Bao Kang, who was never fond of book-learning, cut her off. “Enough with the lectures! If you don’t want to be thrown out like him, get inside. I’m not old yet.”

She pouted but obeyed, flashing a smile at Lu Hehuan before closing the door. He nodded politely in return.

Realizing he could not go home, Lu Hehuan picked up his luggage and wandered the streets aimlessly, eventually finding himself by the Suzhou River. Sitting beneath a tree, he gazed at the water, the setting sun casting its golden glow. Suddenly, the floodgates of memory opened wide.

Back then, the trees were lush and green. The young Lu Hehuan would hang upside down from a branch, while Ling Yan sat nearby, sketching. He glanced mischievously at her drawing and grinned.

“Ling Yan, why are you painting persimmons?”

She pointed earnestly at the setting sun. “Persimmons? It’s clearly the red sun at dusk.”

He cocked his head with feigned confusion. “But it looks just like a persimmon, hanging on the branch.”

She sighed. “You’re impossible. Fine, it’s a persimmon if you say so.”

With that, she sketched an ancient tree on the canvas, setting the red sun amid its branches.

He crowed in triumph. “Now it really is a persimmon.”

“No, it’s not.”

“How is it not? Didn’t you just say it was?”

“It’s not a persimmon. It’s Lu Hehuan hanging from the branch.”

“So you’re teasing me.” He gave a start of realization and, plucking a leaf, threatened to throw it at her.

“This persimmon is so naughty. If you don’t sit still, I’ll eat you up,” she warned, making a face.

He stopped his antics and let her continue drawing.

Then, with a conspiratorial air, he placed a fat green caterpillar on her back. “Ling Yan, don’t you feel something on your back?”

She was absorbed in her sketch. “What?”

“Take a look.”

She reached behind and, finding something stuck there, brought it forward to examine it. Seeing the caterpillar, she burst into tears. Alarmed, he jumped from the tree and embraced her.

“Ling Yan, are you all right? I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have scared you.”

“Why did you do that?” she cried, beating his shoulder with her fists.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He was filled with remorse.

She wiped her tears. “You rotten persimmon—always up to mischief, always teasing me.”

Seeing her anger had abated, he started joking again. “That’s right—I’m a rotten persimmon. So do you still want to eat me?”

She burst out laughing. “Who would want a rotten persimmon like you?”

Bathed in the glow of sunset, he stroked her hair, feeling as though he held a stream of gold-dusted silk. Alas, the sunset is most beautiful just before dusk—yet the scene endures while the people are gone.

A fish broke the water’s surface, the ripples drawing him from his reverie. He watched the circles spread, a smile on his lips but tears in his eyes.

He let out a long sigh, stood up, and picked up his suitcase. Night was falling; he needed to find a place to stay.

A cold moon hung in the sky. In its pale light, Ling Yan’s dilapidated house looked all the more desolate. With nowhere else to go, Lu Hehuan decided to spend the night there. He pushed open the door; the room was shrouded in darkness.

Suddenly, he spotted a shadowy figure with its back to him.

“Ling Yan?” he cried, rushing forward, hope surging in his voice.

The shadow shuddered and barked, “Thief!”

“You’re the thief!” Lu Hehuan realized it wasn’t Ling Yan.

The figure whirled and attacked him; they grappled in the gloom. In the struggle, Lu Hehuan stumbled over a stick and slipped. The shadow seized the chance, swinging a leg in a fierce kick toward his face.