One Third Remaining Chapter Sixty-Two The Wolf Arrives

“Got it!” Zhu Dachang, back in the hospital room, and Yellowhair in the taxi, both exclaimed in unison.

Zhu Dachang proudly raised a black membership card in his right hand, waving it in the air with a goofy grin. “Third Brother, my skills are truly honed. That fool didn’t notice a thing.”

Yellowhair held his phone to his ear, reporting smugly to Zhang Xiaoman, “Uncle Man, our acting was flawless. That idiot didn’t see through a single thing.”

“Is that so?” Housan, lying on the hospital bed, and Zhang Xiaoman, walking down the street, responded in perfect sync.

Zhu Dachang flipped the black card between his fingers, chin held high, eyes closed in satisfaction. “Of course. Ever since you taught me, Third Brother, I practiced hard. Love every trade you do, right? That kid even waved goodbye to me, clueless as ever.”

Yellowhair’s lips twisted into a contemptuous smirk. “Do every job like you’re born to it. Since we’re informants now, we gotta put in the effort. After our heart-to-heart, I had an epiphany. On the way to the hospital, I studied ‘The Actor’s Self-Cultivation’ written by a cab driver… Sure enough, it paid off. That fat idiot’s clumsy tricks—no brag, but I’ve been better at them since I was three. Saw right through him, while he still thought he was clever… As I left, that fool waved goodbye, black card in hand, and I still nailed that clueless look. Not easy!”

Zhang Xiaoman burst out laughing, “Truly a foolish thief…”

When people are proud, they easily lose their composure, and calamity often follows joy.

Thud! A sudden sound rang in both Zhu Dachang’s and Yellowhair’s ears at the same time.

The smile on Zhu Dachang’s face froze instantly. He opened his eyes, looked at his empty right hand, then at the black card lying in the urine basin on the floor, awkwardly tugging at his lips, stunned and motionless.

“Why are you just standing there?” Housan rolled his eyes. “Pick it up, quick! You really want to wait till it soaks and falls apart? Zhu Dachang, have you ever listened to a word I say? What’s the most important thing in great undertakings? Steadiness! Steadiness! And more steadiness! I’ll say it three times—remember it well!”

Zhu Dachang scratched his head sheepishly. “Third Brother, I got it. I’m sure I’ve achieved that bit now. I’ll work hard on ‘steady’ in the future. By the way…” He squatted down, picking the black membership card out of the urine basin with his fingers, shifting topics with a forced smile. “Third Brother, what kind of card is this? Doesn’t look like a bank card…”

“Only a fool would steal bank cards,” Housan continued reading the book beside his bed. “Even if there’s hundreds of thousands in the account, without the password who can withdraw it? Stealing bank cards is the dumbest move—lots of effort for nothing.” He tapped Zhu Dachang’s black card a few times. “That’s a real treasure. With it, you can get lots of goodies, both fatty and lean…”

Zhu Dachang immediately wiped the yellow liquid off the black card with his sleeve, staring at it wide-eyed, swallowing hard. “I get it now. This is a pork card, just like those crab cards. You can take it straight to the supermarket to exchange for stuff. I’ve seen Xie Baldhead’s wife use one at the construction site before. City folks are really going backwards—this is just like the ration stamps we used in the village.”

Housan was momentarily speechless, his brows knitted, staring at Zhu Dachang for several seconds before lifting his book to fully cover his face, refusing to respond.

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything? Did I say something wrong?”

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Yellowhair saw Zhang Xiaoman still hadn’t replied, pursed his lips in annoyance. “If you won’t talk, I’ll hang up. I haven’t got much credit left.”

Just as Yellowhair was about to hang up, Zhang Xiaoman’s voice returned on the line. “Which bastard has no morals, even stealing manhole covers on the street! If I catch him… I’ll make sure he gets a fifteen-day prison vacation!”

Yellowhair stifled the urge to laugh, putting the phone back to his ear. “Uncle Man, how are you? Any injuries? Should I call you an ambulance?”

“No need, no need,” Zhang Xiaoman slowly stood up from the muddy sewer, rubbing his scraped thigh. “Just a scratch. I’ll figure out how to climb up…” Suddenly remembering, “By the way, there’s something I forgot to warn you about when I was at your place. I’ll send you a photo later. You must remember the man in it. If you ever run into him… don’t act rashly. Call me immediately.”

Yellowhair gave a soft “oh,” curious. “Who is it this time? Another big shot escaped from prison?”

“No…” Zhang Xiaoman coughed. “This guy is more dangerous than any escapee. He crawled out of ‘hell’ itself. When he goes mad, he’s deadly… Anyway, if you ever see him, keep your distance.”

“So mysterious… Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Yellowhair dismissed it, pursing his lips indifferently. “I cherish my life most. Any dangerous business, I always hide at the back. My old man taught me never to mess with madmen… Anyway, I’m at the Real Estate Transaction Center now. Got business to take care of…” Yellowhair solemnly uttered his final words, “Uncle Man, thanks!”

With that, he cut off the call. Zhang Xiaoman shook his head with a smile, found a photo taken while tailing Wang Chao, and sent it to Yellowhair. Then he opened the flashlight app on his phone, using its white beam to carefully inspect his surroundings. His nose twitched, suddenly picking up a strange, putrid smell. He held his phone aloft, cautiously following the scent forward.

A minute later, Zhang Xiaoman stopped, squatted down, staring at a black handbag and a dark, human-shaped object in the mud. He pulled a pair of white rubber gloves from his pocket, about to reach out and check, when a chorus of police sirens erupted overhead.

A middle-aged woman’s face appeared at the manhole above, shouting hoarsely, “It’s down here… I was livestreaming, thought those two fugitives hid something rare here, but when I came down—my goodness, it’s a bag of rotten meat and a corpse, scared me out of my wits…”

Immediately, several beams of strong light shone down from the manhole, focusing on Zhang Xiaoman. Hewei’s surprised voice exploded above, “Uncle Man, what are you doing down there?”

Zhang Xiaoman looked up, forcing a grim smile. “If I said I was just passing by… would you believe it?”

“I believe!” Yellowhair answered firmly, folding his red property deed and stuffing it into his jacket pocket, rushing out of the Real Estate Transaction Center, flagging a taxi by the roadside. “Better safe than sorry, always err on the side of caution… Where are you now? I’ll get a cab over…”

“I’m already in the ambulance,” Han Mei’s trembling voice came through the call. “Just come straight to the hospital, Yellowhair. Sorry to bother you… I tried calling Hewei, but he didn’t pick up… Even tried his dad, but no answer… My parents are back home, I really don’t know what to do. Can you come help?”

“Hey, don’t be polite. The baby in your belly is my godson too,” Yellowhair urged the taxi driver to speed up, comforting Han Mei as he spoke. “I’ll definitely have a word with Hewei later—how could he not answer your calls? He’ll have to kneel on the remote, and not be allowed to change the channel! Mei Mei, don’t worry, I’ll be there soon!”

Han Mei responded softly, “It’s not really Hewei’s fault. Even I didn’t take it seriously, the last few times were just false alarms. Who’d have thought this time was real…” She bit her lip, pale-faced, ending the call. “Yellowhair, I’ll hang up now—talk to you when I get to the hospital…”

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Yellowhair replied cheerfully, clutching his phone nervously, so excited he almost jumped in the taxi.

As children, many hear the tale of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” teaching the dangers of lying.

But this time, it wasn’t the wolf that came for Han Mei—it was the child.

Han Mei was cooking in her seven-square-meter kitchen when sudden abdominal pain struck. She didn’t think much of it, having experienced similar episodes before, assuming this too would pass. But then, a warm, colorless fluid ran down her leg…

She’d heard of amniotic fluid breaking, but when it happened to her, even someone as strong as Han Mei was thrown into panic. Especially when she couldn’t reach Hewei by phone—tears welled up and flowed uncontrollably, just like the amniotic fluid.

Childbirth is a painful and perilous journey, like walking through the gates of hell, fraught with unpredictable dangers. For Han Mei, it was even more so, because after she was taken away by ambulance, another danger followed close behind—like a malignant tumor clinging to the bone, or a venomous snake lurking somewhere out of sight, ready to strike at any moment.

Neither Yellowhair nor Han Mei sensed this at all—one’s mind was so excited it had stopped thinking, the other was so anxious she couldn’t consider anything else.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the emergency gynecologist quickly examined Han Mei, promptly arranged a delivery room, and asked in a steady tone, “Caesarean or natural birth?”

To Han Mei, the question sounded as grave as “To be or not to be.” She gritted her teeth, forcing out her answer, “Natural birth… They say naturally-born kids are smarter!”

The obstetrician then let Han Mei wait in the ward—wait for the cervix to dilate, wait for the pain to reach its peak, wait for the moment when new life could arrive.

Han Mei lay on the bed, enduring the agony, panting, drenched in cold sweat. She gazed at the door, took a deep breath, planning to wash her face in the bathroom to clear her mind. Cradling her belly, she slowly shuffled toward the restroom, unaware that behind her, a man in a gray jacket and blue mask was drawing closer, his footsteps quickening…