Chapter 349 - 192: Mutual Deception, the Momentum Becomes a Tiger Ride

Chapter 349: Chapter 192: Mutual Deception, the Momentum Becomes a Tiger Ride

"What did he praise you for?" Wan Ze asked.

"He praised my nice handwriting!" Xiaoyu shook her head smugly, her braids swinging back and forth as she giggled.

Mrs. Wan chuckled beside them and said to Wan Ze, "Her handwriting looks like chicken scratch. Her teacher probably couldn’t find anything else to praise her for."

"Mom!" Xiaoyu whined, pouting as she set her chopsticks down on the table. "You always shoot me down!"

The whole family laughed.

Smiling, Father Wan picked up a fried dough stick, broke it in two, and handed one half to Mrs. Wan. He dipped his own half in soy milk and took a bite.

Mrs. Wan took the dough stick but didn’t eat it right away. Instead, she first ladled a bowl of congee for Wan Ze, adding a few Red Dates.

As she placed the bowl in front of Wan Ze, she swapped his saucer of pickled vegetables for a new one, where the radish strips were sliced thinner and tossed more evenly with sesame oil.

"Eat up," Mrs. Wan said, looking at Wan Ze with a pained expression. "Look at you, you’ve lost weight again. Your chin is so sharp."

"I haven’t lost weight, Mom. It’s just muscle." Wan Ze took a bite of his dough stick. It was perfectly crispy and made a loud CRUNCH.

"Muscle, my foot. Your cheeks are all sunken." Unconvinced, Mrs. Wan placed a meat bun in his bowl. It was thin-skinned and generously filled.

Xiaoyu, her mouth greasy from gnawing on her dough stick, suddenly remembered something. She looked up and said, "Brother, after we move into the new house, can I get a dog?"

"What dog?" Mrs. Wan answered first. "You can’t even keep goldfish alive. Did you forget how those two goldfish died last month?"

"I just accidentally overfed them!" Xiaoyu argued, her voice tinged with grievance. "Besides, goldfish and dogs are different. A dog will bark when it’s hungry, but a goldfish won’t."

Her logic made Wan Ze not know whether to laugh or cry.

Father Wan, however, considered it seriously. He put down his dough stick, wiped his hands, and said, "Getting a dog isn’t out of the question, but there are conditions. First, you have to be responsible for walking it, once in the morning and once at night, rain or shine. Second, you have to clean up after it whenever it does its business. Third, you have to score over ninety on both your language and math final exams. If you can do all three, then we’ll talk."

Xiaoyu counted the three conditions on her fingers, then said pitifully, "Dad, am I still your favorite daughter?"

Mrs. Wan and Father Wan exchanged a look and both smiled.

Breakfast continued in this lively, warm atmosphere.

Mrs. Wan kept putting food on Wan Ze’s plate, murmuring, "Eat more," "This is delicious," and "Try this," as if he had just returned from a long trip.

Father Wan would occasionally chime in about the move—when to call the movers, what to throw out, what to keep, and how to arrange the furniture in the new house.

Xiaoyu’s mouth never stopped moving. When she wasn’t eating, she was talking—about how she would decorate her new room, what posters she would put on the walls, that her desk had to be by the window, and that she wanted a loft bed with a desk underneath.

Wan Ze listened to it all quietly, eating a lot for breakfast that morning.

’No matter how complicated things are outside, home will always be a place like this. There’s congee to drink, dough sticks to eat, and someone nagging you to eat more.’

After breakfast, Mrs. Wan cleared the dishes. Xiaoyu eagerly volunteered to wipe the table, but ended up flicking water from the rag onto Father Wan’s face. After a scolding from her mother, she stuck out her tongue, giggled, and ran off.

Wan Ze did not go to school.

It wasn’t the weekend, so he should have been in class, but he had more important things to do.

He returned to his room, closed the door, and pulled his communicator out of his pocket.

There were a few unread messages on the communicator’s screen from various people, nothing important.

Wan Ze didn’t reply, instead dialing Zhai Jia’s number directly.

"Ah Ze?" Zhai Jia’s voice came through. The background was noisy, with people talking, chairs scraping, and the rustling of papers.

"Brother Jia, where are you?" Wan Ze asked.

"In the office. Perfect timing. That kid Xiao Yunkai is much more cooperative today. You want to see him?"

"Yeah, I’m on my way."

Wan Ze hung up, changed into a fresh set of clothes, pocketed his communicator, said a quick goodbye to Mrs. Wan, and left.

...

The Police Headquarters was located in the eastern part of the city.

Zhai Jia’s office was in a gray, nondescript office building.

When Wan Ze arrived, Zhai Jia was standing in the hallway, smoking a cigarette.

"You’re here?" Zhai Jia stubbed out his cigarette on the hallway trash can. "Come on, I’ll take you to see the kid."

He led Wan Ze down the corridor, made two turns, and stopped in front of a steel door.

The door had a number on it and an electronic keypad lock. Zhai Jia punched in a few digits, and the lock beeped before clicking open.

The room wasn’t large, maybe fifteen or sixteen square meters, with a table, a few chairs, and a cot in the corner.

The curtains were drawn and the fluorescent lights were on, casting a ghastly white glow that made everyone’s complexion look unhealthy.

Xiao Yunkai was sitting in a chair, his hands on his knees. His posture was very proper, his back held ramrod straight.

He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes—a grayish-white sweatshirt with a dirty collar. His hair was messy, and bluish stubble dotted his chin.

Hearing the door open, Xiao Yunkai jerked his head up.

The moment he saw Wan Ze, his expression changed.

It was a mix of fear and surprise.

"Brother Wan!" Xiao Yunkai shot up from his chair, its legs letting out a harsh screech against the floor.

He took two steps forward but didn’t dare get too close, stopping about a meter away from Wan Ze. He clasped his hands together and pleaded, "Brother Wan, can you please talk to these two gentlemen for me? I’ve already told them everything I know... the things I should say and the things I shouldn’t, I’ve confessed it all! Really, I haven’t hidden a single thing! Can you please have them let me go?"