He removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, as though releasing some emotion that had no name.
When he raised his head again, his gaze had turned sharp — even, one might say, carrying a kind of extreme, unsettling grimness.
Tan Shiming met his eyes and could not help but be startled for a beat.
Yao Weihai said, word by deliberate word: “On the day, I will personally lead a team to the wharf to carry out the arrest.”
Tan Shiming’s eyebrows shot up. He challenged: “How can that be right? You are the overall person in charge — you are the head of the task force. You want to go to the front line yourself?!”
Yao Weihai’s position was clear and unyielding: “Which is precisely why I need you to be on the outside, serving as the overall field commander for the operation.”
Tan Shiming: “…”
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Zhao Ping from the Major Crimes Unit, dressed in a dark green rain jacket, holding an umbrella in one hand, came out of Club ONE against the driving wind and rain.
On the roadside, he spotted Jiang Hansheng coming out from under his umbrella, walking around to the passenger side, opening the car door, and placing a hand above the frame to shelter Zhou Jin as she stepped out.
Zhou Jin quickly ducked under Jiang Hansheng’s umbrella and complained casually: “Why is the rain so heavy?”
She noticed a few drops of rain on Jiang Hansheng’s immaculate, neatly pressed clothes and reached over to smooth them away, saying: “You didn’t have to come. You’re so busy at the university.”
“It’s fine, there’s still time,” Jiang Hansheng said. “And this case, I —”
“Senior Sister.”
Zhao Ping was still some distance away, but he could already catch a whiff of the cloying, saccharine odor of romance in the air. He drew nearer, crossed his arms, and teased: “What is this, what is this? The ‘Iron Lady’ who could chase down a petty thief across eight whole city blocks, and still make sure to deliver a kick to the gut once she had him in hand — now she’s gone so frail she needs Professor Jiang to personally pick her up and drop her off every day?”
Zhou Jin: “…”
She raised her hand, placed it over Jiang Hansheng’s hand that held the umbrella, and gave the handle a sharp twist. Droplets instantly flew across and splattered all over Zhao Ping, speckling his rain jacket.
“After all those witness interviews, your mouth still hasn’t been worn down enough? You’ve got that much to say?”
Zhao Ping leaped back, crying out repeatedly: “Professor Jiang, rein in your wife! Look at her, picking on the vulnerable!”
Jiang Hansheng smiled. “I’m afraid I may also be counted among the vulnerable.”
Zhou Jin’s face flushed when she realized he was actually playing along with Zhao Ping’s teasing and implying she bullied him too. She jabbed him sharply with her elbow.
It wasn’t all that painful, but Jiang Hansheng made a show of clutching his abdomen anyway, then turned on her a look of feigned, pitiable suffering — as if silently protesting: Now tell me this isn’t bullying.
“…”
Zhou Jin had no words.
Zhao Ping had not expected Jiang Hansheng to joke around in front of others and burst into laughter. He handed his umbrella to Zhou Jin and walked ahead to lead the way.
Zhou Jin opened her own umbrella and walked side by side with Jiang Hansheng, picking up the thread of what had been cut off: “What were you saying about this case just now?”
Jiang Hansheng’s expression quickly resumed its serious composure. “The Chen Xiaoyu case — I’d like to hear your thoughts.”
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