Eating Melons in the Police Station-Chapter 97

Qiu Sheng stared at the oversized milk tea cup, then glanced at the pink and blue straws scattered on the table, offering an awkward yet polite smile:

"Thank you, sweetie, but Mommy will just buy another one for herself."

As she spoke, Zhong Jin had already swiftly shoved both straws into the cup and asked considerately,

"Which color do you want? Pink or blue?"

Qiu Sheng blinked. "...Huh?"

Zhong Jin had far better composure than Little Tong. Lying through his teeth without batting an eye, he said, "It’s the child’s heartfelt gesture. Don’t break her heart."

Qiu Sheng looked at the chubby kid across the table, who was noisily slurping her milk tea while staring intently at the counter, muttering something indecipherable.

There was zero indication of any heartbreak, but after a brief hesitation, Qiu Sheng still pointed at a straw. "I’ll take the blue one."

"Then I’ll have pink."

Zhong Jin rotated the cup halfway, placing the blue straw on Qiu Sheng’s side before lowering his head to sip from the pink one.

An inexplicably ambiguous atmosphere bubbled between the parents, practically oozing pink heart-shaped bubbles. Little Tong, however, remained utterly oblivious, engrossed in studying the menu at the counter. Though she couldn’t read the words, the cartoon illustrations held her fascination.

When Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng leaned in simultaneously to drink, their foreheads bumped. Qiu Sheng recoiled instantly, her cheeks flushing, sending a flutter through Zhong Jin’s heart.

The rush of emotion felt like falling in love all over again.

Little Tong slid off her chair, propped herself against the table, and announced loudly, "I still wanna buy a choc’late cake!"

Then she scurried away on her short legs.

The budding ambiguity between Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng was promptly shattered by the little troublemaker. Tactically, Qiu Sheng pulled out her phone, checked her social media, found no new notifications, and set it back down.

Little Tong fished out a 100-yuan bill from her tiny crossbody bag to pay for the cake. The clerk handed her the change, and she held open her bag for them to drop it in.

Noticing the bag was stuffed with loose change, the clerk realized this kid clearly couldn’t handle money—she just yanked out large bills each time and haphazardly stuffed the change back in, swelling the bag into a lumpy mess.

"Sweetie, can you carry this yourself, or should I bring it over?" the clerk asked, bending down as they retrieved the cake from the display.

Little Tong accepted it with both hands. "I can do it."

She then thrust her belly forward and added, "Sissy, I need three spoons, please."

The clerk immediately understood, tucking three disposable spoons into the pouch of her sweatshirt.

Carefully balancing the cake, Little Tong toddled back to Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng.

The kid had already mastered frugality—though her math was shaky, buying the smallest quantity was foolproof. One cake to share meant leftover money for other treats.

Zhong Jin and Qiu Sheng weren’t killjoys. When Little Tong returned with three spoons, they all dug in together.

At one point, their spoons clinked accidentally, reigniting that ambiguous tension.

But then came the abrupt glug-glug noise from Little Tong’s direction.

The little gremlin was sprawled on the table, blowing bubbles into her milk tea through the straw, making it froth like a boiling cauldron.

Noticing Zhong Jin’s glare, she even offered cheerfully, "You want yours to make bubbles too? I’ll help after I finish mine, ‘kay?"

Zhong Jin sighed. "...No thanks. And stop playing with your food."

After a day of retail therapy, back at home, Little Tong dumped her remaining change onto the rug and asked Qiu Sheng to count it.

As she tallied, Qiu Sheng continued teaching her to recognize bill denominations. Finally, she announced, "You have 469 left."

Little Tong beamed. "So I’m still rich?"

Qiu Sheng pointed at the hideous neon bag tossed aside. "This is about all you can afford now."

The kid’s world shattered. Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "Huh?!"

Seizing the moment, Qiu Sheng suggested, "How about returning that bag you bought today?"

Little Tong flapped her hands in protest. "No returns! No!"

Zhong Jin sauntered over to tease her. "Let’s use your money for dinner tonight."

Panicked, Little Tong hugged her bag to her belly. "I’m broke!"

Then, as if fearing he’d actually take it, she waddled to the dog bed on all fours, stuffed the bag under the blanket, and plopped down protectively.

The next day’s plan was the aquarium. Having splurged recklessly yesterday, Little Tong had basked in the joy of playing sugar mama.

Today, Zhong Jin decided to instill some financial responsibility.

He made her bring her crossbody bag—every aquarium expense would come from her own funds. With only a few hundred yuan left and steep prices there, budgeting was nonnegotiable.

Before leaving, Zhong Jin asked, "Still planning to spend like yesterday?"

Little Tong, her hair in tiny pigtails and bag clutched to her chest, declared solemnly, "Today, I’ll be super careful with money."

Yet the moment they arrived—before even stepping inside—she was lured by a ring-toss booth. Fifty yuan vanished for zero prizes, though the sympathetic vendor tossed her a 3-yuan bird whistle as consolation.

With the "sucker whistle" dangling around her neck, Little Tong stomped in regret. "I gotta save now!"

Aquarium tickets were unavoidable, gulping another hundred-plus yuan.

At the snack stand selling jumbo sausages—a must-have every visit—she forked over 50 yuan without hesitation.

Spotting clown glasses at a nearby stall, she sprinted over and bought a pair (cheap plastic frames with a red nose) for 80 yuan.

At ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍this rate, her wallet bled dry in no time.

Left with just 10 yuan, she could buy nothing else.

Zhong Jin asked her, "You haven’t eaten lunch yet, and you’re out of money. What are you going to do? Can you handle being hungry until later?"

Little Tong held up a finger. "I’ll buy a pack of instant noodles and soak them in hot water."

Zhong Jin: "..."

This had to be Rao Shishi’s influence. At the beginning of the month when Rao Shishi got her paycheck, she’d buy snacks by the crate and invite people out for murder mystery games nonstop. But by the end of the month, she’d only eat at the cafeteria, and if she had night shifts, instant noodles were her only option.

Little Tong, despite her young age, had spent so much time around the police station that she’d picked up all kinds of worldly knowledge—even the survival skills of a "monthly spender."

"The aquarium doesn’t sell instant noodles, and 10 yuan definitely isn’t enough for lunch here. This is the consequence of your reckless spending, so you’ll have to bear it. You’ll just have to wait until we get home to eat."

While Zhong Jin went to the restroom, Little Tong and Qiu Sheng sat on a bench decorated with dolphin prints, waiting for him. Little Tong clung to Qiu Sheng’s arm and whined,

"Mom, give me money. I want to eat a hamburger at the underwater restaurant."

Though Qiu Sheng’s heart ached for her, Zhong Jin was trying to teach her proper financial habits, and she wasn’t about to undermine that. Steeling herself, she refused.

Little Tong squirmed on the bench for a while before digging out her kids' smartwatch from her little crossbody bag and dialing Qiu Chen’s number.

When Qiu Chen answered, Little Tong chirped, "Uncle, I want to eat a hamburger at the underwater restaurant, but I don’t have any money."

"Are you alone? Where are your parents?" Qiu Chen’s voice carried a hint of panic, as if worried she’d sneaked out by herself.

Little Tong enunciated clearly, "I’m with Mom and Dad. They won’t give me money. They’re making me starve for lunch."

Qiu Chen: "...How could they do that? Hand the phone to your mom. I’ll talk to her."

Qiu Sheng took the watch and explained the whole situation, then added, "Stay out of it. Zhong Jin is teaching her not to spend recklessly. He’s helping her build good spending habits."

"What spending habits? My niece doesn’t need spending habits! Her spending habit is to spend freely—however she wants! Besides, how much could a kid even spend?"

Then, raising his voice toward the watch, he declared, "Little Tong, Uncle’s transferring money to your mom’s phone right now. You can buy whatever you want, whatever you want to eat. Uncle’s got you."

Little Tong hugged the watch, giggling. "Thank you, Uncle! Love you, Uncle!"

By the time Zhong Jin returned from the restroom, the previously dejected child was now beaming, her little chest puffed out as she looked at him triumphantly.

Zhong Jin shot Qiu Sheng a questioning glance.

Qiu Sheng sighed helplessly. "She called her uncle for money. You know how he is—he just told her to spend freely."

As she spoke, her phone chimed. She glanced at the screen—a transfer notification. Qiu Sheng mouthed the amount to Zhong Jin: "Twenty thousand."

Zhong Jin rubbed his temples. "That Qiu Chen… he’s completely undermining us."

Qiu Sheng reminded him, "To be fair, when her uncle’s teaching her schoolwork, you’re the one undermining him. You two are even."

Zhong Jin: "...It’s not the same. This is a matter of principle. What he’s doing is just reckless."

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Little Tong adjusted her little clown sunglasses, hands stuffed in her pockets, her entire demeanor screaming, "This girl’s loaded." With an air of grandeur, she called out to her parents:

"Stop talking! We’re going to the underwater restaurant for the deluxe set—and we’re tipping the mermaid performers big! Hundred-yuan bills, one after another!"