Xiao Meng was called in at the last minute and immediately got to work. However, before he could leave, he was detained by a little girl who had been rescued the previous night.

The little girl’s name was Tang Xiaomi, six years old. Someone had reported the night before that the neighbor’s child kept crying incessantly. Upon investigation, they found her with her single mother, who suffered from depression.

It had only been two days, and they still couldn’t reach Tang Xiaomi’s father, nor did any other relatives come forward to claim her. With nowhere else to go, out of kindness and duty, the police temporarily took her in.

Xiao Meng had brought her home last night, and now the little girl had become attached to him.

After experiencing extreme fear, people often develop an inexplicable sense of security around police officers.

Looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, the little girl pleaded, “Uncle, where are you going? I’m scared.”

“This is the police station. No one will hurt you here. Can you play by yourself for a bit?” Xiao Meng sat her down on the nearby sofa, handing her an orange.

The next moment, Xiaomi slipped off the sofa and sprinted towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around his thigh.

Kindness was one thing, but responsibility came first; they couldn’t let it interfere with official duties.

“Xiaomi.” Xiao Meng crouched down, an idea forming in his mind. He gently patted her head and tilted his head, saying, “Uncle will teach you something. Can you be a good girl and cooperate?”

—

Zhuang Zi finished her statement and returned to the hospital, where the doctor informed her that she could be discharged after finishing today’s IV.

Leaving the hospital, it was 5 PM.

The sky remained dark and gloomy, with persistent drizzle and muffled thunder rumbling behind dense, dark clouds, as if someone was plaintively crying.

Standing cautiously on the steps, observing the flow of people around her, she now felt like a solitary wanderer in the wilderness, suspecting everyone around her of being potential assailants.

A chill wind surged up, wrapping her tightly in its impenetrable embrace, enveloping her in an icy world.

But now, where to go?

South Xin Apartment was definitely out of the question, and neither was Jiang Zhihao’s place.

Could she rely on relatives from the Zhuang family?

Just thinking about it made it seem impossible.

She took out her phone from her pocket, scrolled through her contacts, but couldn’t find a single close friend or reliable acquaintance to turn to.

Putting away her phone, she looked up at the sky. The rain showed no signs of stopping, and the dim, colorless city seemed like the end of the world—bleak and oppressive.

If things continued like this, she might lose her mind before the case was solved.

—

Xie Kui stayed busy outside until 9 PM before returning to the station. It was still drizzling outside.

Hurrying in with a chill, he glanced up and saw Zhuang Zi sitting alone on a bench in the lobby.

The bright white lights cast a cold glow, illuminating the empty room as if it were broad daylight. She leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling, her expression devoid of warmth.

Xie Kui paused, thinking she might have come to see him, and walked towards her. “Miss Zhuang?”

At his words, Zhuang Zi looked over, hesitated for a moment, then stood up from her seat, ran her hand through her tousled hair, and finally greeted him, “Officer Xie.”

Perplexed, Xie Kui asked, since she could have called him directly or come during the day, “Why are you still here so late?”

“It’s safer here.” She couldn’t think of a better place to go; only at the police station would criminals hesitate to harm her.

Xie Kui’s mind turned slightly before he realized, “Then why didn’t you go to a friend’s or relative’s house to stay for a couple of days?”

Looking at him, Zhuang Zi’s face remained as pale as ever, her eyes bloodshot and vacant. “I don’t have any close friends or relatives to rely on in Yisheng Province.”

Xie Kui understood. “But staying overnight at the police station isn’t a long-term solution either.”

She sighed and stated her thoughts frankly, “There’s nowhere safer than the police station.”

Xie Kui looked at her, understanding the immense pressure she must be under, both physically and mentally, in such circumstances.

He tried to comfort her slightly, “We’ll discuss your case tomorrow morning. By then, we should decide on appropriate protective measures.”

Grateful, Zhuang Zi looked at him. “Thank you for your trouble.”

Xie Kui smiled gently, “Don’t mention it. It’s our duty.”

Zhuang Zi smiled faintly. Suddenly, another thought occurred to her, and she asked him, “Has Captain Si already decided not to participate in my case?”

It was a topic best left untouched, but Xie Kui inadvertently recalled it.

He had been busy all day wrapping up the murder case from two days ago, nearly forgetting about it. He was curious about their relationship.

“Miss Zhuang seems to know Captain Si?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” Zhuang Zi replied casually, almost to herself, “He should only know my father.”

“Your father?” Xie Kui furrowed his brows in confusion, glancing at her. Then, with a thoughtful smile, he asked, “Indeed, he did say he wasn’t suitable for handling your case. But I’m curious, why would he want to avoid suspicion?”