One Third Remaining Chapter 24: Soldier and Thief

There are many ways to like someone—openly is one way, secretly is another.

Blondie sat across from Han Mei and He Wei, just like three years ago. But this time, He Wei could openly hold Han Mei’s hand, while Blondie could only steal glances at her from behind lowered lashes.

Her nose was delicate, her lips alluring, her eyes bright and clear, even the locks by her ear were captivating.

As Han Mei questioned him with her usual seriousness, Blondie answered half-heartedly, distracted. He knew better than anyone that he and Han Mei could never be together—one was a cop, the other a thief, as incompatible as fire and water. For someone like him, only in secret could he look at Han Mei openly, right here in the police station.

He still remembered the last time he saw Han Mei. It was a sweltering summer day, the ninety-ninth time she’d caught him red-handed, his hundred-and-first stolen electric scooter—72-volt, nearly new, a pale beige.

That day, Han Mei had trailed him all the way, and he had watched her all the way, until, just like now, he sat across from Han Mei and He Wei.

After two minutes and thirteen seconds, He Wei asked him, “You’re a perfectly decent guy—why become a thief? If you need money, go find a job…”

It’s hard to counsel goodness when you haven’t tasted another’s hardship; many questions simply have no answer.

Blondie smiled, not answering directly. “Getting a job is impossible. There’s no way I’d ever work a regular job in this life.”

There was something he didn’t say. Maybe stealing scooters left him ashamed to face others, but not stealing meant he wouldn’t see the person he longed for. All along, he’d thought Han Mei was an icy beauty, never smiling, but in that moment, he clearly saw the corners of her mouth curve into a breathtaking smile.

It felt like snow melting into spring, and Blondie’s heart blossomed in that instant.

Then, He Wei mocked, “You really treat the detention center like your home, don’t you?”

That was a matter of perspective. At least to Blondie then, the detention center was no different from home—eat, sleep, and guard the one he loved. Blondie raked his straw-like hair and looked at Han Mei with a smile. “The people here are witty, all quite talented. I really like it here…”

When a person can’t let go of a place, it’s usually because they can’t let go of someone there. Where your beloved is, there is home—whether it’s a house or a cell.

After signing his name and fingerprint, Blondie watched Han Mei walk out behind He Wei, and resolved that next time he saw her, he’d tell her: he wasn’t caught for stealing, but because he was scared—his heart pounding wild with nerves.

A thief of hearts is charming; a thief of goods is detained.

Blondie hadn’t expected that their next meeting would be three years later, and his beloved had already been stolen by someone else. They hadn’t met in prison, nor out of it. He’d asked around about Han Mei—some said she was on assignment, others said she was married. In the end, he started stealing scooters again, hoping fate would bring them together.

But he hadn’t expected it would be He Wei who came for him this time—and gave him a definite answer.

Blondie gazed at Han Mei with deep affection. “Long time no see—I hear you married this guy, is that true?”

Han Mei nodded gently. He Wei’s face darkened.

Blondie took a deep breath, his eyes brooding. “Then, you should return what you stole from me…”

“What did I steal?” Han Mei and He Wei asked in unison.

Blondie sighed deeply. “After all these years of stealing scooters, I only now realize my heart was stolen by you long ago…”

Han Mei froze, then covered her mouth and laughed.

“Damn it!” The veins on He Wei’s neck throbbed as he slapped Blondie on the back of the head. “Talk straight! Just because we were classmates doesn’t mean you can mess around here—this is the police station, act serious!”

Only then did Blondie remember that he and He Wei had been high school classmates. He’d dropped out for unavoidable reasons, and it wasn’t exactly a regret—he was always at the bottom of the class anyway. He only felt a little sorry for the guy who was second to last; he’d promised to always be a solid backup for him.

Back in middle school, Blondie and He Wei often played cops and robbers—Blondie was the cop, He Wei the thief. Who’d have thought that once they entered society, their roles would reverse: He Wei the cop, Blondie the thief.

It made sense, really. He Wei’s father was a police officer. A little rebellion in youth, then following in his father’s footsteps as an adult.

Blondie pulled a face, suddenly uninterested. “If you have questions, ask quickly. I suddenly don’t feel like sitting here watching you two make eyes at each other…”

“We did bring you here for something serious,” He Wei pulled out a photograph, pointing to a black bag of jewelry in the picture. He spoke gravely, “Use your contacts and help me find out who fenced this bag of jewels, and where it came from.”

Blondie glanced at it. “I’ve heard about this—tied to the counterfeit money case. Didn’t you already catch the buyer? Why not just ask them?”

“There’ve been too many middlemen,” He Wei shook his head. “We've traced it back to someone named Old Song, but the trail goes cold after that. We’re still looking for Old Song, but one thing’s clear—this bag of jewels isn’t clean. I want you to sniff around, see who brought it out.”

“Brother, I’ve been locked up for three years. Times have changed, the world outside’s different now.” Blondie leaned back, making himself comfortable. “How am I supposed to help you dig up info? And even if I did, what’s in it for me? What, you’ll give me a Good Citizen Award?”

“I can help you find a decent job…”

“No need. You think I really can’t find work? I just don’t want to work for those bloodsucking landlords who chew you up and spit out the bones.”

“I can introduce you to someone…”

“Someone exactly like Han Mei?”

“Get lost!” He Wei slammed the table. “My patience has limits, Blondie. I’m only offering you a chance to redeem yourself because we were classmates. Don’t push it.”

“Then let me be godfather to your child,” Blondie pointed at Han Mei’s slightly rounded belly. “I honestly don’t care about redeeming myself. I just care about what’s dear to me. If I can’t be Han Mei’s husband, being her child’s godfather is enough.”

He Wei took several deep breaths, exchanged a look with Han Mei, then closed his eyes and nodded. “Fine.” He opened his eyes and stared at Blondie. “On one condition: from now on, you never go back to your old ways. My child won’t have a thief for a godfather.”

Blondie brightened, coming alive as if reborn. He extended his right hand, and He Wei slapped it in agreement. “Deal—a promise as solid as iron!”

He picked up the photo, scrutinizing it carefully. Only then did he recognize the bag holding the jewels. After a moment’s thought, he exclaimed excitedly to He Wei, “I’ve seen this bag! It was those two blockheads who made the drop—no mistake about it!”