[“We playboys do whatever we want.”]

September’s weather remained sweltering, the sun beating down on the cement, making it steam underfoot. In Yuqing Valley, every household had their windows thrown open for fresh air—no one dared venture out into the scorching street.

Neighbors chatted through their windows, fanning themselves: “The weather’s strange today, no breeze at all.”

“Yeah, the vegetables we bought are already wilted. Guess we’ll have to eat cold noodles.”

Ah Xiu carried a basket back to Yuqing Valley. Everyone on the street was holding umbrellas, so she took out her oil-paper umbrella, swaying gracefully as she walked, bending with the wind.

Inside the basket were two bunches of fresh grapes. Bai Zhun had bought these as offerings for the gods, but the sight made him crave fruit himself, so he sent Ah Xiu out to buy some.

Little Yan had been waiting by the window for a long time. Seeing Ah Xiu’s shadow, she called out brightly, “Ah Xiu!”

Ah Xiu stopped. Her snow-white face peeked out from beneath the umbrella, revealing cherry lips and a delicate nose. Little Yan was enchanted, waving at her, then ran downstairs and stood before her, pulling out a round creamy preserved plum candy.

She had received the candy as a prize at school for writing well.

It was the first time Ah Xiu had received a gift from anyone. She reached out in confusion, and the plump creamy candy rolled in her palm.

Little Yan smiled warmly: “Everyone says this candy is delicious.” She couldn’t bear to eat it herself, wanting to save it to give to Ah Xiu when she returned.

Ah Xiu stared at the candy for a while, then gestured to Little Yan, who followed her all the way to the Bai family’s main gate. Ah Xiu pointed at Little Yan, then at the bricks on the ground in front of the door.

Little Yan was a little afraid. The Bai family didn’t mingle with anyone in Yuqing Valley. Their big black lacquered gate was always closed, and children dared not play in front of it. They preferred to play jump rope or kick marbles outside the alley.

But since Ah Xiu told her to wait, she stayed there.

Ah Xiu opened the door and went inside, put down the bamboo basket, and hurried to Bai Zhun. Bai Zhun was reclining in a rocking chair, cooling off and drinking soda, while Huo Zhenye sat nearby reading the newspaper aloud, talking about the solved case of the “Courtesan Queen Selection’s beauties” and the announcement of the top three contestants.

Bai Zhun, annoyed by the news, interrupted Huo Zhenye as he saw Ah Xiu approaching, “What is it?”

Ah Xiu kept one hand behind her back and opened the other toward Bai Zhun.

Bai Zhun frowned, “What’s this?”

Huo Zhenye smiled: “Someone gave it to you?”

Ah Xiu nodded, pointing toward the door. Huo Zhenye sneaked over and saw a little girl holding a flower-shaped marble. Ah Xiu had made a friend.

“What use is this?” Bai Zhun frowned again. Ah Xiu couldn’t eat or drink it.

“She gave you a creamy candy, why don’t you give her a soda? You can play together.”

Ah Xiu listened, looked at Bai Zhun, who was still reluctant. Huo Zhenye encouraged him, “Ah Xiu should make some friends. That little girl looks clean and well-behaved. She’s nice.”

With permission granted, Ah Xiu opened the fridge and picked out a bottle of orange soda. She thought orange soda looked nicer than plum soda.

The black lacquered door closed then opened again. Ah Xiu handed something to Little Yan. Little Yan’s eyes widened — a bottle of orange soda! That costs a few coins a bottle!

“Really for me?” Little Yan’s face flushed with happiness.

Ah Xiu nodded.

Little Yan grabbed the soda bottle and ran home, proudly showing this orange, glistening treasure to her mother.

Little Yan’s mother was cooking dinner on the coal stove, sweat rolling down her cheeks. She turned and looked, “Really?”

“Really!” The glass bottle was already sweating with condensation — it had been chilled. Cool to the touch, Little Yan treasured it but was afraid she might warm it up with her hands.

“Did you thank Ah Xiu?”

“I did!” Little Yan couldn’t bear to drink the soda all at once. She opened it and took a tiny sip, then looked at her mother cooking in the heat and held the bottle out to her: “Mom, you have some too.”

Her mother beamed with a smile and took a sip: “I’m not hot, you drink it.”

But Little Yan insisted. The mother and daughter passed the bottle back and forth, taking turns drinking the not-so-large soda, and even saved a little at the bottom for her father to try when he came home from work.

Ah Xiu played with her preserved plum candy. She had a bamboo chest where she kept her little treasures. After a while, she opened the chest and placed the candy inside.

She didn’t hide what she was doing — Bai Zhun and Huo Zhenye were in the hall, watching her. Inside her chest were things like a paper flower and a pair of paper shoes.

“What’s she keeping all this for?” Huo Zhenye asked.

“Liu Er is already dead, and the case is solved. Why are you still here?” Bai Zhun lay back in his bamboo rocker and rolled his eyes. “Even small animals know to stash things. Why shouldn’t Ah Xiu?”

Just as he said that, the little yellow finch swooped onto Huo Zhenye’s head. He shook his head to shoo it off and ended up shaking a peanut out of his hair.

The yellow finch, realizing its stashed peanut had been dislodged, jumped back onto Huo Zhenye’s head and pecked at him in a flurry.

Huo Zhenye caught the bird and smoothed its feathers in his hand. He had always been curious but never asked: “Is Ah Xiu your younger sister?” He had visited often enough and heard from some neighbors in Yuqing Alley that Ah Xiu was Bai Zhun’s sister.

“She’s my daughter,” Bai Zhun said seriously.

Huo Zhenye figured Bai Zhun was talking nonsense again. Ever since he found out Ah Xiu wasn’t mentally sound, he’d assumed she might really be Bai Zhun’s sister. Who would hire someone with a mental condition as a servant?

“Doesn’t Ah Xiu have a childlike mind? There are schools in the foreign concessions for people like her, or you could hire a tutor. She can’t spend her whole life in confusion like this.”

Bai Zhun let out a burp and set down his glass bottle, glancing at him sideways: “What, you want to be her father too?”

When it came to nonsense, Huo Zhenye wasn’t afraid of anyone. He crossed his legs and said, “Sure, you’re her real dad, I’ll be her godfather. In the future, if she wants to find a husband, both of us will have to give our approval.”

Bai Zhun snorted: “Enough, just go. If you’ve got nothing proper to do, don’t come around these few days.”

Huo Zhenye was still holding his soda bottle, and being dismissed like that made him feel a little wronged.

Bai Zhun, for once, explained, “It’s the Chenghuang’s third patrol during the Ghost Festival. I’ve got work to do.”

That Huo Zhenye actually knew about — the local Chenghuang went on three patrols a year: first during Qingming, second during the Ghost Festival, and third in early October.

This one was the Ghost Festival patrol.

When the Chenghuang goes out, people pray for blessings and make wishes, and wandering ghosts are pacified.

Huo Zhenye used to think this was just another temple fair, but now he didn’t dare think that way anymore.

The paper offerings for the gods couldn’t be casually made. For the annual ceremonies, they used the full set of seven ceremonial paper figures. In the coming days, Bai Zhun would be too busy to deal with a loafing playboy.

“You go make your offerings. I promise I won’t bother you. Look, someone has to make sure you get meals too, right?” Over the past few days, Huo Zhenye had been waiting on Bai Zhun with care — honestly, more attentively than Ah Xiu.

“Are you seriously that idle?” Bai Zhun gave him a look full of disdain only someone with too much free time could earn.

Huo Zhenye replied knowingly, “We playboys just do whatever we want.”

Bai Zhun gave him a glance. “And what is it you want to do?”

Huo Zhenye stroked his chin, but before he could answer, two paper servants picked him up and carried him out of the Bai residence, all while he protested, “Hey! I didn’t say anything!”

Bai Zhun snorted — just the look on his face was annoying.

Since he’d already been kicked out, Huo Zhenye figured he’d come back in the evening. For now, he’d head home, grab a few clean sets of clothes, and ask Aunt Liu to make a few side dishes.

But as soon as he got home, he received a call from the old man.

“You’ve been messing around nonstop in Shanghai, but this one thing you actually did decently. The Tao family is willing to reconsider. You should make more of an effort with them.”

Huo Zhenye let the words go in one ear and out the other, treating them as background noise: “Can’t do it these few days. The police have a big case.”

“Those are all low-class affairs. It’s enough to do that one proper branding; better to have your brother find you a job in the chamber of commerce.”

Aunt Liu saw Huo Zhenye’s face growing more and more impatient and didn’t dare say a word, using only her expressions to try to calm him down. She was afraid that with his temper, he’d start arguing with the old master again.

The old man might be retired now, but back in the day, he was ruthless and decisive—his word was law. If the young master clashed with him head-on, he’d be the one to suffer.

Huo Zhenye hung up and headed straight for the door.

Aunt Liu asked carefully, “Where are you going?”

“To do that low-level stuff.” He bounded down the stairs in a few steps and called back, “I want hot pot for dinner.”

Aunt Liu waved him off. “So much trouble, and it’s not even for guests.”

Huo Zhenye’s eyes rolled playfully. “It’s Miss Bai who wants it.”

Aunt Liu gave him a suspicious look. “Didn’t you say it was a man?” Knowing it was a man, she definitely wasn’t going to do it.

“It is Miss Bai. I only said it was a man because I was afraid you’d slip and let it out. If my brother finds out, he’ll be calling to interrogate me again. I’m not even close with her yet.”

Hearing it was for “Miss Bai,” Aunt Liu suddenly got serious. She sent Ah Zhen out to buy prawns, beef tendon, pig tripe, and sea cucumber — all essentials. The only thing missing was abalone, which hadn’t been soaked yet.

Aunt Liu grumbled, “Really now, you can’t even stew it properly in this weather. It takes three days to develop the flavor.”

“Fine! Three days it is.” Huo Zhenye was already in his car, driving over to the police station to kill time before knocking on the Bai family’s door in the evening.

When he got to the station, it was practically empty. He saw Da Tou sitting alone at a desk and patted him on the back: “Da Tou? Why are you the only one here? Where is everyone?”

Huo Zhenye was still an honorary consultant to the station, though he hadn’t shown up in days. Da Tou’s face lit up when he saw him. “Young Master Huo, there’s a new case. Everyone’s busy.”

“Then why are you stuck here on the bench?” Huo Zhenye frowned. Something didn’t add up. He’d been on cases with Da Tou before, and Da Tou’s approach was sound — better than half the other officers. He could read too, which already put him ahead. Why was he being left out?

Da Tou scratched his head. “Brother Chen told me to stay here and wait for news.”

“Brother Chen?”

“Chen San’er.”

Ah, Huo Zhenye remembered — the guy who got tripped by Bai Zhun’s little paper figure and tumbled down the stairs.

Chen San had been under Huo Zhenye’s lead before. After breaking his leg in that fall and returning to work, he saw Da Tou rising in reputation thanks to his successful casework — recognition that should’ve been his.

Chen San had more seniority and was a team leader. Of course he had the power to sideline Da Tou and stop him from working cases.

Huo Zhenye thought of Da Tou as half his own man. Seeing him getting snubbed, he asked, “What’s the case?”

“Missing children.” Da Tou pulled out the case files. In just a few days, three sets of parents had reported their kids missing. All the children were under ten.

“That many?”

Da Tou gave a small smile. “Young Master Huo, that’s actually not unusual. There are always trafficking cases — women and children alike. But usually, they happen around the stations or docks, places with a lot of outsiders. This one’s different.”

Train stations and docks were chaotic — in times like these, many people came to Shanghai looking for relatives. Scammers would pose as family contacts and lead people away, then either rob them or sell them.

Since it happened at the station, no one knew each other. It didn’t draw attention. By the time the real relatives realized something was wrong, it could be a day or two later.

These cases had abysmally low solve rates. If one or two victims were lucky, that was rare. Most of the time, they just vanished.

But in this case, all three missing children had disappeared near their own homes.

“In those alleys, the neighbors all know each other. Snatching a kid there is extremely risky. If someone catches you, it’s an instant beatdown!” Da Tou couldn’t figure it out — how were the children taken without raising suspicion?

Huo Zhenye flipped through the case files. All three were boys. That wasn’t surprising — boys were always considered more valuable than girls. If you were going to take the risk of kidnapping, of course you’d go for the higher value target.

What was strange was that all three boys had the same birthday.

Huo Zhenye tapped the birthdates on the file. “Why are they all born on September 9th?”

Moreover, some of them were already nine years old. Nine-year-old children already remember things, so which family would buy such children?

Da Tou said, “We also found it quite strange, but these children, apart from having the same birthday, are of different ages and don’t even study at the same school.”

No other common traits — just the birthday.

Huo Zhenye tore off a piece of paper and copied down the children’s addresses. “Let’s go look for clues.”

The incidents had all occurred so close together. With the shared birthday, there had to be a connection.

Da Tou was beaming, snapping to attention with both arms at his sides: “Yes, sir!”

Then his face fell. “But the others went to check the docks, stations, and brothels. Just the two of us — how are we supposed to investigate? Where do we even start?”

The docks and stations were where people were usually trafficked out of the city. As for the brothels… some of those kidnapped children would spend their entire lives lost in places like that.

“We’ll start with these families,” Huo Zhenye said.