Eating Melons in the Police Station

Chapter 26

Midnight, the hustling and bustling city gradually quieted down after a day of noise and activity, except for areas concentrated with food stalls, nightclubs, bars, and KTV. Other streets were almost deserted, with only an occasional car passing by.

Zhong Jin’s black SUV drove fast, almost at the speed limit, all the way to the Maternal and Child Health Hospital of the city.

Xiang Ruicheng had mentioned over the phone that Little Tong was vomiting and feverish, and had already been rushed to the hospital. He didn’t elaborate much, only saying it wasn’t a big deal and urging Zhong Jin to drive slowly.

Perhaps it was due to skipping dinner, but Zhong Jin felt his limbs were weak, his head a bit dizzy, and his heartbeat accelerated.

Finding Xiang Ruicheng in the infusion room, Zhong Jin strode over, “Old Xiang.”

Old? Xiang?

Just over 30, Xiang Ruicheng was slightly frustrated, but seeing Zhong Jin’s clearly anxious expression for the child, he didn’t bother to argue over the nickname.

He stood up from the chair, “It’s okay, don’t panic. It’s just indigestion. She’s thrown up before, and the doctor gave her an injection to reduce fever. She should be fine after tonight.”

Zhong Jin stepped forward and saw the child curled up in the blanket, her eyes tightly shut, her cheeks flushed from fever, her nostrils flaring slightly, her breathing a bit labored, likely due to discomfort.

Xiang Ruicheng added, “I should have blamed myself. I took her and the kids to eat fried chicken and ice cream tonight. Probably ate too much of a mix.”

Though heartbroken, Zhong Jin knew it wasn’t Xiang Ruicheng’s fault and reassured him instead, “This kid is just greedy. In the afternoon, she also ate a lot with those unreliable guys in the police station. Let her suffer this once, and maybe she’ll behave next time.”

Seeing Xiang Ruicheng still standing there, Zhong Jin urged him, “It’s getting late; you should go home and rest. I’ll stay here and watch over her. Today, thank you for your trouble, Old Xiang.”

Old Xiang, “... Alright, us two men standing here is unnecessary. Call me if you need anything. You’re probably a couple of years younger than me; just call me Brother.”

“Sure, Old Xiang, drive slowly.”

Old Xiang, “... Alright, Little Zhong.”

Zhong Jin sat on the backrest chair beside the bed, carefully avoiding the infusion tube on his hand, and gently grasped the small hand peeking out of the blanket. His fingertips were usually a bit chilly, so holding the child’s hot hand, which was burning up, was a shocking sensation.

Little Tong, feverish and uncomfortable, found the cool, smooth hand comforting. She extended her other hand, sticking it close to Zhong Jin’s hand.

Xiang Ruicheng walked out of the infusion room in slippers. After a while, he returned with a small box of wontons.

He placed the wontons on the table beside Zhong Jin, “Haven’t had dinner, right? Your job keeps you busy till midnight; you forget to eat. Be careful not to get an ulcer.”

Zhong Jin chuckled apologetically, “Thanks, I really am a bit hungry.”@@@@

“Eat up, I’m really leaving now. Call me if anything happens.” Xiang Ruicheng waved and left.

Zhong Jin’s right hand was held by Little Tong, so he used his left hand to open the takeout box, biting open the plastic seal of the disposable chopsticks, awkwardly prying them apart with his mouth, and picked up a wonton with difficulty to eat.

He was really hungry, slurping down the wontons noisily. He found today’s wontons unusually delicious, and adding a bit of vinegar would have been perfect.

Zhong Jin was bent over, eating the wontons, when a hoarse little voice suddenly sounded in his ears, “What are you eating?”

Zhong Jin turned his head and saw the child was awake, her big eyes staring at him accusingly.

“Mmm,” Zhong Jin rubbed his forehead, then called out to the nurse who was about to leave, “Could you please let her stay one more day? I’ll hire a caregiver to assist.”

The nurse was a bit confused, repeating, “She doesn’t need to stay; you can take her home.”

It was Friday, and initially, Zhong Jin had planned to let Little Tong rest one more day in the hospital, so he could pick her up the next day and take her home to recover. But then he thought, the hospital isn’t a daycare; since she’s fine, he shouldn’t occupy resources.

So he just nodded, “Alright, thank you.”

Zhong Jin first brought Little Tong home, where they washed up and changed. Then he took her out again.

At their usual steamed bun shop downstairs, Zhong Jin ordered only buns and millet porridge today—extremely light food. Seeing the bland dishes served, Little Tong’s eyes lost their sparkle.

“If I don’t eat meat, I’ll die.” Little Tong drooped her small shoulders, protesting weakly.

Zhong Jin placed a small bowl of millet porridge and half a bun in front of her, then patted the child’s shoulder. “Don’t talk nonsense. I’ll eat with you. We’ll have meat again after you’re fully recovered.”

Children recover quickly from illnesses. Little Tong actually felt fine already, but since she hadn’t had any meat in the morning, she was listless throughout the day at the police station, lacking her usual energy.

“Oh, what’s wrong with our Little Tong? Are you sick?” Mao Feixue noticed Little Tong’s sluggishness the moment she encountered her in the service hall.

Little Tong repeated her old trick, pitifully hugging Mao Feixue’s leg. “I’m not allowed to eat even a single piece of meat.”

Mao Feixue picked her up and cradled her in her arms. “What’s going on? Why can’t you have any meat? What kind of meat do you want? Auntie will buy it for you.” She hadn’t met Xiang Ruicheng since returning home yesterday, so she didn’t know about Little Tong’s illness.

Zhong Jin wasn’t fooled by her act. “She was sick last night due to indigestion. She can’t have meat or junk food for the next few days.”

“Oh dear, if you’re sick, you really shouldn’t eat that.”

Little Tong pouted, glaring angrily at her so-called stepfather. “Please leave.”

Zhong Jin replied, “...This is my workplace. You’re the one who should leave.”

Mao Feixue burst into laughter at the sight of the father-daughter quarrel, then tried to comfort the child. “Since you can’t have meat, how about we watch some cartoons instead?”

Zhong Jin, who had been heading toward his office, paused upon hearing this and protested, “If you keep watching, your eyes will go bad.”

“But the child is sick, no? She can watch for a little while.” Mao Feixue ignored Zhong Jin’s remark and carried Little Tong to find a tablet.

The second time Zhong Jin emerged from his office, he saw Little Tong sitting on her usual long bench, hunched over a computer, watching cartoons. She grinned and chuckled along when she reached a funny scene.

As he approached the child, Little Tong immediately handed him the tablet. She had developed a conditioned reflex: whenever her father approached, she would voluntarily surrender the tablet after about half an hour of viewing.

Zhong Jin didn’t take the tablet; instead, he bent down and lifted her into his arms, carrying her all the way to his office.

He placed the child on a soft sofa covered with a small blanket, then used one of his own jackets and pillows to prop her up, ensuring she was comfortably half-reclined.

The office air conditioning was strong, so Zhong Jin covered her with her own little blanket. “Lie here and watch cartoons. Keep your eyes at a distance, alright?”

Lying in the cozy nest of blankets, Little Tong happily wiggled her head. “Yes, Auntie.”