Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 115

Ever since being forced to drink Zhong Jin's blood, Qiu Sheng's body had undergone some noticeable changes. The most obvious was how the surgical scar from her operation had faded significantly, and her energy levels and overall health seemed much improved.

Then one morning, after drinking a cup of coffee, she suddenly felt an unexpected lightness in her body—the scar on her abdomen vanished completely, leaving smooth, unblemished skin as if nothing had ever happened.

Qiu Sheng rushed to find Zhong Jin: "Did you add your blood to my coffee again?"

Zhong Jin stood in front of the mirror brushing his teeth, one hand holding the toothbrush, the other tucked in his pocket. He didn’t bother hiding it. "Mhm," he acknowledged.

Qiu Sheng immediately went to the hospital for a check-up and sent Zhong Jin the 【No Abnormalities Found】 report as soon as she got it, insisting he stop cutting his fingers for her. She was seriously worried he’d make himself anemic.

Zhong Jin paused his work, carefully examined the report to confirm it wasn’t photoshopped, and only then did he relax.

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One weekend after Qiu Sheng fully recovered, Zhong Jin had smart locks installed on their bedroom doors—parents needed their privacy now.

Little Tong’s bedroom door lock was programmed with three fingerprints, allowing everyone access, while the guest room only had the two adults’ prints, strictly prohibiting the chubby little intruder—especially since she had a habit of nighttime patrols. They had to be extra vigilant.

Even that wasn’t enough for Zhong Jin. The little underachiever might struggle with schoolwork, but when it came to outsmarting her parents, her IQ was alarmingly high.

To prevent her from figuring out how to add her own fingerprint, Zhong Jin disabled the fingerprint and password functions entirely, reprogramming the lock with only his and Qiu Sheng’s facial recognition.

Of course, the more forbidden a place was, the more Little Tong wanted in. Ever since the guest room became off-limits, she’d been scheming nonstop to sneak inside.

Watching her parents stand in front of the door for it to unlock, Little Tong mimicked them, tilting her chubby face up expectantly. But the smart lock only responded with: 【Facial Recognition Failed】.

Assuming she was too short for the lock to detect her, she dragged the little step stool from the bathroom, climbed up, and pointed at the lock defiantly: "Try recognizing me again, I dare you."

Smart Lock: "Beep. Facial Recognition Failed."

Screeching in frustration, Little Tong stormed to her room, flopped onto the bed, squeezed out a few dramatic tears, then called her uncle to tattle:

"Uncle, Mom and Dad locked their room. They won’t let me in!"

But even her usually supportive uncle took their side this time: "Your parents are grown-ups. They need privacy. You have to learn to respect that."

Like a control-obsessive parent who refuses to listen, Little Tong promptly blocked her uncle.

Next, she cornered Aunt Liang at the kitchen sink, clinging to the counter as she loudly complained:

"Auntie, Mom and Dad locked their door. They won’t let me in!"

Aunt Liang didn’t side with her either, sighing instead: "With a little troublemaker like you around, it’s a miracle your parents managed this long."

Little Tong huffed and stormed off.

Later, when Du Xin came to tutor her, the kid gripped her crayons and grumbled: "Big Sis, Mom and Dad locked their room. They won’t let me in!"

Qiu Sheng, flushed, rushed over to clamp a hand over the little blabbermouth’s lips while Du Xin laughed into her palms.

Convinced she was in the right but abandoned by everyone, Little Tong stomped to the bedroom door, tiny fists clenched, and started arguing with the smart lock:

"You’re a bad lock."

"I don’t like you anymore."

"We’re not best friends ever again."

She crossed her arms and glared. "Hmph!"

Smart Lock: "Beep. Facial Recognition Failed."

Defeated, Little Tong crawled to the living room, dug Sang Biao out of his dog bed mid-nap, and hoisted the drowsy rooster toward the lock:

"If you can’t scan human faces, try scanning a chicken face!"

Smart Lock: "Beep. Facial Recognition Failed."

Sang Biao let out a terrified cluck.

After hours of fruitless bickering, Little Tong exhausted herself and passed out on the sofa, arms tucked under her belly, butt in the air—her signature puppy sprawl.

Post-nap, Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng took her for all-you-can-eat barbecue, mall train rides, ball pits, and claw machines, staying until the mall closed at 10 PM.

Assuming she’d crash early from exhaustion, they were proven wrong when the energizer bunny revived post-bath.

She slithered into the guest room unnoticed while Zhong Jin opened the door, flopped onto the pillow, and flipped through a detective novel with exaggerated interest—though the book was upside down.

"Dad, read to me!" she chirped.

Resigned, Zhong Jin picked up the book, tucked the chubby menace against his chest, and continued from yesterday’s page.

Even when Zhong Jin started dozing off, Little Tong’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "What happens next? Did they catch the killer?"

Zhong Jin snapped the book shut. "No more. This just hypes you up."

Undeterred, the little social butterfly latched onto both parents’ arms:

"Fine, no reading! Let’s chat instead! I’ll tell you about my future as a police officer catching bad guys!"

Whether it was adrenaline or sheer stubbornness, the more they tried to tire her out, the more wired she got. Finally, Zhong Jin carried her around the living room, her head on his shoulder, as he pat her back and butchered a lullaby.

The poor kid surrendered, hands clamped over her ears.

The next morning, discovering she’d been relocated to the master bedroom alone, Little Tong transformed into a furious dumpling, storming around to pick fights—with the smart lock, the chicken-frog hybrid, and even Uncle Qiu Chen (unblocked just for this).

Everything annoyed her.

Zhong Jin patted her head. "Want to learn how to ride a bike?"

The pouty ball of rage crossed her arms. "I already know how!"

"You ride a tricycle. I’ll teach you a two-wheeler."

"Why learn two wheels?"

"Because they’re faster and go farther. You could ride to the park."

Instantly forgetting her rage at the promise of fun, she grabbed Zhong Jin’s hand. "Teach me, please! Thank you!"

Zhong Jin first drove Little Tong to the mall, where they picked out a suitable two-wheeled bicycle for her, along with a new helmet and knee pads. Her old helmet had become too small, squeezing her head uncomfortably, so this time they bought one a size larger.

When they arrived at the coastal promenade, Zhong Jin first took his own large bicycle out of the trunk and set it aside. Then he crouched down to help Little Tong fasten her helmet and knee pads. Holding the bicycle steady, he let her climb onto the seat herself.

Once seated, Little Tong lifted her short legs to reach the pedals, struggling a bit.

"My legs are too short," she said, turning to Zhong Jin.

He lifted her off and adjusted the seat height. This time, it fit much better.

Drawing from her experience riding a tricycle, Little Tong began pedaling back and forth to move the bike forward, but this time it felt different—the bicycle wobbled unsteadily, unlike the stable tricycle.

"Ahhh! I can't do it—I might fall!" she cried out in alarm.

Zhong Jin held onto the back of the bicycle as he walked alongside her, calmly encouraging her. "It's okay, I'm right behind you. Just keep going forward boldly."

Hearing that Zhong Jin was still there, Little Tong felt slightly reassured and mustered the courage to keep pedaling.

Gripping the handlebars tightly, she picked up speed, not daring to look back as she called out loudly, "Dad, are you still there?"

When Zhong Jin responded from behind, she grew bolder and pedaled even faster.

Zhong Jin kept holding the rear frame, starting with a walk before breaking into a light jog to keep up. Sensing that she was gaining balance, he gradually let go but maintained a protective stance, continuing to run alongside her.

Little Tong grew more confident, assuming Zhong Jin was still holding the bike, and rode faster and faster.

Zhong Jin fell a few steps behind, and just then, the wheel tilted—Little Tong tumbled off. He rushed forward and crouched down to check on her.

Little Tong lay on the ground, propped up on her small hands, staring dazedly at Zhong Jin.

"Did it hurt?" he asked.

He expected her to cry, but instead, she just gave him a calm look, shook her head, and declared loudly, "Tiny troubles won’t defeat me!"

The plucky little girl shouted her motto, bravely got back up, dusted the sand off her palms, and righted the bicycle.

Sitting back on the bike, one leg planted on the ground, she turned to Zhong Jin and said, "Dad, hold me like before. Once I’m steady, you can let go."

"Okay."

Zhong Jin helped her start again, and this time, she found her balance much quicker than before. He released his grip and stood still, watching the little helmeted figure ride farther away.

At that moment, the old father felt a pang of melancholy—this little one would grow up bit by bit, and with each step, just like today, she would drift a little farther from him.

She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍would inevitably leave him one day, but he wished time would slow down, letting him stay by her side a little longer.

"Dad, I don’t know how to stop—help!"

The child’s cry from ahead snapped Zhong Jin back to reality. He sprinted forward, steadying the bike frame, and taught her how to brake and turn.

The tiny bicycle curved ahead before doubling back along the same path. Little Tong said to Zhong Jin, who was jogging beside her,

"Dad, go get your big bike. Let’s ride really far together, okay?"

"Okay."

When they reached the spot where Zhong Jin had parked earlier, the sight left both father and daughter stunned.

The bike was still there, perfectly intact.

But the seat was gone.

Zhong Jin pulled out his phone from his armband, utterly disbelieving—the police station chief’s bike seat had been stolen. "I’m calling the police."

Little Tong, gripping the handlebars with one foot on the ground, was equally indignant. "They dared to steal your bike’s butt? They’ve got some nerve!"

In the brief moment before dialing emergency services, Zhong Jin still managed to correct her. "It’s called a bike seat, not a bike butt."