Shortly after Huan Er left, the compartment door opened again, but this time an unfamiliar face entered.
Jing Qichi thought it was the passenger for the upper bunk opposite, and nodded without giving it much thought.
But he quickly sensed something was wrong. The person entered without a word and left silently, then came back a second time, furtively glancing behind him before reaching for the laptop with one hand while grabbing the travel bag from the opposite bunk with the other.
Jing Qichi’s heart began racing. With his back to the person, he dialed Huan Er’s number while sitting up. “Brother, Brother Li said to wait for him, he’ll be right back.”
Maybe his voice shook, maybe it didn’t—Jing Qichi wasn’t sure.
The person stopped what he was doing and turned to stare at him intently.
It was a young man, apparently around his age.
“You’re Brother Li’s colleague, right?” Jing Qichi tried to stay calm as Huan Er’s “Hello?” came through the phone.
He held the phone to his ear, only watching the compartment’s situation from the corner of his eye. “Oh, bring me a one-on-one.”
The man hadn’t left—perhaps observing, considering his next move.
Jing Qichi moved the phone away. “Brother Li said someone’s coming, wait a bit. He wants to discuss the lab proposal with you.”
There was no fucking Brother Li.
He just wanted to stall the person, hoping Huan Er would understand that code phrase.
Time seemed to freeze.
“Yes, thank you,” the man said, his first words since entering.
No accent could be detected, and no emotion either.
Jing Qichi watched him pack the laptop into the carrying case.
He couldn’t speak anymore—his heart was in his throat, one more word would give him away.
What to do?
Acting faster than thought, Jing Qichi beat him to the door, locking it shut.
The previous pretense had failed; he knew he’d been exposed.
The man looked at him, his eyes turning vicious. “Move.”
Almost simultaneously, Huan Er’s voice came from outside: “Got it, one-on-one.”
Something flashed before his eyes as Jing Qichi unlocked the door and fell heavily to one side. Two railway police rushed in to subdue the criminal. A switchblade lay on the floor, its point having been aimed at him.
Hah, it was over.
Huan Er, pale-faced, pulled him up from the floor, alternately rubbing his face and pulling his arms. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Jing Qichi was still in shock, watching as the man was escorted out by the police before finally taking a deep breath.
The businessman from their compartment hurried back, seeing the situation with surprise. “What happened?”
“And you are?” asked one of the remaining police officers.
“These are my things.” The man patted his pocket and took out his ticket. “Lower bunk.”
The officer checked the ticket and returned it to him, then pointed to Huan Er. “We met this young lady during our patrol, she said something must be wrong in your compartment. Now it seems…” the officer glanced at the travel bag still lying on the floor, “your belongings were being stolen, and these two students acted bravely to stop it.”
The corridor was full of onlooking passengers. The officer called out loudly, “Everyone please return to your seats, and make sure to keep an eye on your belongings.” Then he patted Jing Qichi’s shoulder. “Well done, young man. Brave and clever. Take a rest first, our colleagues will come by later to take your statement. These thieves get desperate around New Year’s.”
Once the compartment was quiet again, Huan Er anxiously looked the victim up and down, suddenly crying out “Oh no!”
Jing Qichi jumped at the sound, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re injured!”
“Huh?” He felt no pain, checked his knees, torso, and both arms and finally touched his face. “Where?”
Huan Er poked his forehead. “There’s a bump here.”
Yes, when he fell, his head seemed to have hit the bunk ladder.
“Already a few screws loose,” Huan Er shook her head dejectedly, “and now this…”
The businessman from the opposite bunk returned from seeing the police off and immediately thanked them upon entering. “I’m so grateful to you both today. Losing some money would be one thing, but that laptop had too many important files—the consequences would have been unthinkable if it was stolen.”
Jing Qichi smiled. “It was the right thing to do.”
“I’m Jiang Sen.” The man extended his hand.
He grasped it firmly. “Jing Qichi.”
“Who would have thought something like this would happen,” Jiang Sen sat down opposite and asked, “You’re not hurt?”
Huan Er grinned while ruffling Jing Qichi’s hair. “Our handsome boy’s face is a bit bruised.”
“Even with bruises, still a fine young man. You two…” Jiang Sen smiled and gestured, “How did you know?”
“We have a code word.” Huan Er and Jing Qichi exchanged glances.
A code phrase never discussed, some kind of tacit understanding formed in high school—one-on-one.
As soon as Huan Er heard it, she’d started running back, without hesitation or careful deliberation. It was more like an instinct—if he used those three words out of nowhere, Jing Qichi must be in trouble.
She had indeed been lucky, meeting the railway police on the way, and they’d followed her without question, using their valuable experience to signal at the closed door—stay calm, don’t startle the snake in the grass.
If any link in the chain had gone wrong, the outcome wouldn’t have been what it is now.
Jiang Sen watched them and sighed appreciatively, “That’s wonderful.”
With the dining car closed, the three of them spread their prepared “provisions” on the small table, chatting back and forth as they began this ordinary yet extraordinary dinner. Huan Er, scrolling through her social media feed, asked Jing Qichi, “What does this mean?”
Qiu Yang had posted a status half an hour ago: Ctrl+Y.
Jing Qichi, mouth full, replied, “Python shortcut, deletes the selected line.”
Jiang Sen looked up at this. “You know Python?”
“Yeah,” Jing Qichi answered casually, “I study computer science.”
Huan Er liked Qiu Yang’s post and put away her phone. “So our skincare enthusiast means he’s forgetting about the entrepreneurship competition project and starting fresh?”
“Got hurt pretty badly.” Jing Qichi gave a small laugh.
The speaker may not have meant anything by it, but the listener took note. Jiang Sen rubbed his hands together. “Could you tell me more about the project you worked on?”