Chapter Sixty-Nine: Time

Time is a peculiar thing—when you believe it exists, it is there; when you don’t, it simply vanishes. This is especially true for those unable to sense its passage; for them, time seems to cease altogether. Many people like to add the words “forever” to their blessings or promises, unaware that forever is not a reward, but a punishment.

Just like Jin Yue, who had been sitting alone in the interrogation room for over twenty-four hours. Not knowing the hour or moment, she grew restless and angry, but had no choice but to restrain herself, feigning indifference.

Zhang Xiaoman sat in the police station lobby, finishing the last sip of instant noodle broth. He burped, pulled out a tissue to dab his greasy lips, glanced at his watch, then turned to Chang Ping beside him. “Go get me another bag of sunflower seeds, will you? Make sure they’re raw and crisp. The roasted, salted kind—I can’t eat too many of those. First, they make me heaty; second, too much salt sends my blood pressure up...”

Chang Ping slurped up a few noodles, gesturing toward the inky darkness outside. “Zhang Xiaoman, how long do you plan to hang around? It’s night already. You’ve been here since the afternoon. You’ve eaten three cups of my instant noodles, five sausages, and seven spicy chicken feet...” He pointed to the officers snoring at their desks. “It was lively when you arrived, but look now, everyone’s worn out. If you’re not going to interrogate Jin Yue, I’m heading back to rest.”

Zhang Xiaoman pursed his lips. “Look at you, so stingy. Proves again that a generous father breeds a tightwad son. When I was investigating cases in City D, Old Chang treated me to every delicacy in the city, snatched the check out of my hands without blinking...”

“If you don’t blink for that long, your corneas would rupture—how could you even see the bill?” Chang Ping scoffed, putting down his noodle cup and standing up. “You really think I’m easy to fool, huh? It’s just a few bowls of noodles—no eggs even—what’s all this talk of delicacies? Go to sleep, you’ll find everything in your dreams. If you want to stick around, stay. I’m off to my office for a nap.”

“Wait, don’t go.” Zhang Xiaoman grabbed Chang Ping’s arm. “Sit a bit longer; fishing takes patience, not haste. I’m wearing down that woman’s nerves.” He wore a cold smile. “Don’t be fooled by her calm; inside, she’s stormy. Rock her long enough, something will spill over.”

Chang Ping frowned and sighed, sitting back down. “So, how long are you going to wait? Give me a timeline, so I don’t lose my patience before she does.”

“Not much longer.” Zhang Xiaoman squinted toward the interrogation room. “No lawyer, no phone, watched during every need, even timed bathroom breaks... She’s on the edge of collapse. Right now she’s bluffing, betting that my patience will run out before hers.”

Chang Ping stroked his stubbled chin. “Why would she think you’d run out of patience first? She’s the one cooped up in the room, not you.”

“Because I lost both my advantage and my troops today. She assumes I’m agitated and impatient,” Zhang Xiaoman’s eyes grew cold, “and she’s waiting for me to slip, so she can strike at the first crack.”

“So, are you agitated and impatient now?”

“How could I be?” Zhang Xiaoman laughed dismissively. “My mind is as calm as still water; I wouldn’t flinch if Mount Tai collapsed before me...”

Chang Ping studied him intently. “Tell me, if one day I got stabbed ten times or so, would you stay this calm?”

Zhang Xiaoman spat lightly. “Don’t jinx it. As the saying goes, troublemakers live a long life—someone as meddlesome as you will live to a ripe old age...” He coughed. “Still, go buy the sunflower seeds. Sitting here is boring. If Nie Yi and Li Jun weren’t out chasing leads, I wouldn’t trouble you. It’s just a bag of seeds, not much money...”

“Seems like you’ve gotten used to ordering people around...” Chang Ping rolled his eyes. “If you want to eat, buy it yourself. I’m not indulging your bad habits.”

“I’d go myself if I could,” Zhang Xiaoman turned out his pockets, “Look, not a cent left.”

Chang Ping tilted his head. “First time I’ve seen someone so brazen about freeloading... Wait, how can you be broke? Your pension’s higher than my salary, and you have a publishing house...”

“My pension’s with my wife,” Zhang Xiaoman put on a long face. “I’ve never even seen my social security card. Ever since Xiaoxiao and I married, she keeps both my pay and my card. These days, the publishing business doesn’t make money. Ordinary folks either work overtime or are on their way to work overtime. Of the two characters in ‘life,’ only ‘work’ is left. Who has time to read anymore?”

“That’s true... The last time I read a book was back at the police academy...” Chang Ping suddenly remembered something. “But wait, where did you get the money you gave to that blond kid?”

“That was my stash... My secret savings.” Zhang Xiaoman held up a hand, flipped it over, miming wiping away tears. “Five years—it took me five years to save that little bit, and now it’s all gone...”

Chang Ping burst out laughing. “Zhang Xiaoman, what if I told your wife about your secret savings—wouldn’t that be fun?” Seeing Zhang Xiaoman’s expression turn as sour as if he’d swallowed a dead fly, Chang Ping stood up and stretched. “Forget it, I can’t be bothered to argue. It’s just a bag of seeds. I’ll get them for you.”

“Remember, raw and crisp...”

“I heard you... But before I go,” Chang Ping glanced at the interrogation room, “I’ll check what Jin Yue wants to eat. Investigation is one thing, but we can’t starve people.”

Zhang Xiaoman gave Chang Ping a meaningful look. “Ask if you must, but don’t say anything else...”

Chang Ping snorted and strolled unhurriedly to the interrogation room. He knocked lightly, turned the handle, and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, speaking gently to Jin Yue. “I’m going out to buy some things. Is there anything you want to eat? I’ll get it for you—my treat.”

“How thoughtful,” Jin Yue swept a lock of hair behind her ear, her expression charming. “No need for food, but could you get me a coffee? I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here, and I need something to stay awake.”

“How much longer depends entirely on you,” Chang Ping yawned. “If you cooperate, you can go home and sleep anytime. No need to waste more time here.”

“Oh, I’ll cooperate, of course,” Jin Yue cupped her face, her eyes sultry on Chang Ping. “I’ll do whatever you say. I promise to be very obedient.”

“It’s no use cooperating with me—I’m just the errand boy,” Chang Ping thumbed over his shoulder. “You have to cooperate with the old man. Only if he nods can you leave.”

“That old man is hard to please,” Jin Yue pouted. “So many tricks; it’s really exhausting.”

“Seems like it’ll be a sleepless night,” Chang Ping sighed. “I guess I’ll need a coffee too. By the way, do you want it sweet or half-sweet? Milk or no milk?”

“Just get whatever you usually drink. I trust your taste...” Jin Yue blinked, then pointed at Chang Ping’s watch. “I have a ladies’ version of that brand. Looks like we could make a pair.”

Chang Ping frowned, tugged his sleeve down to cover the watch. “All right, you seem quite energetic. Looks like you want to keep at it. I’ll go buy things now—any later and the shops will close. When I’m back, I’ll take a nap myself. I can’t keep up with Zhang Xiaoman—he’s always needed little sleep, staying awake for days on end.”

With that, he closed the interrogation room door and walked outside, hands in his pockets.

Zhang Xiaoman watched Chang Ping’s retreating back, a sly smile curling his lips. He exhaled, patted his thigh, and stood, strolling to a young officer’s desk. He tapped gently on the tabletop. “You’re one of He Wei’s team, right?”

The young officer nodded sleepily. “Just transferred here, still an intern. I usually just help record statements...”

“A blank slate—perfect.” Zhang Xiaoman chuckled. “Come on, grab your tools. It’s time to pry something out of someone else’s mouth...”

The young officer blinked in confusion, opened his desk drawer, pulled out a bowl and chopsticks, licked his lips, and looked at Zhang Xiaoman expectantly.

Zhang Xiaoman’s mouth twitched. He pointed at the bowl and chopsticks. “What are you doing?”

“Didn’t you say to bring meal tools?” The young officer scratched his head, puzzled.

Zhang Xiaoman smacked his forehead, forcing a smile. “I meant your things for recording statements—your laptop, for instance...”

The young officer suddenly understood. “Oh, you should’ve said so. You said meal tools and prying things out of people’s mouths—I thought you were taking me for a midnight snack. Honestly, I was wondering, with your status, how could you have such an odd hobby—eating what comes out of other people’s mouths...”

Zhang Xiaoman took a deep breath, his smile stiff. “Right, right, my mistake. Let’s hurry. When we’re done, I’ll treat you to a midnight snack.”

The young officer instantly perked up, hugging his laptop and trotting after Zhang Xiaoman into the interrogation room.

Zhang Xiaoman sat slowly opposite Jin Yue, looked up at the glaring white overhead lights, and complained to the young officer, “You should suggest to your chief that these lights aren’t bright enough. This dimness puts me to sleep...” He turned to Jin Yue, who sat silent, head bowed. “Am I right, Jin Yue?”

Jin Yue lifted her head and smiled sweetly. “I think it’s fine—you must just have old eyes. Besides, isn’t it better to make people sleepy? Then you can hypnotize them and get whatever confession you want.”

The young officer blushed, bristling. “That’s slander! All our interrogations are recorded on video, guaranteed to be fair and just, and always conducted when suspects are clear-headed...”

“Ahem, White Paper,” Zhang Xiaoman coughed. “No need for so much explanation. Best not to cut in—just focus on recording our conversation.”

The young officer answered sheepishly, “Professor Zhang, my surname is Bai, but my given name is Chi—Chi as in gallop.”

“A fine name... Bai Chi,” Zhang Xiaoman cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Time waits for no one.”

“Indeed, you’d better hurry,” Jin Yue sneered. “It’s already past twenty-four hours. Usually, the limit for detention in a police station is twenty-four hours—no more than forty-eight at most. If you don’t apply for an arrest warrant by tomorrow, you’ll have to let me go...”

“Who says it’s been twenty-four hours? It’s not even close,” Zhang Xiaoman touched his nose, his face unreadable. “In fact, it’s still daylight outside...”

Jin Yue covered her mouth and laughed. “You’re a professor, yet you make up lies so casually... I arrived at the station at four in the afternoon, had three meals, went to the bathroom five times. It’s now ten-thirty at night—don’t tell me I’ve only been here six and a half hours.”

Zhang Xiaoman glanced at his watch—sure enough, it was exactly ten-thirty. His eyes narrowed, voice turning cold. “There are no clocks here, and your phone was confiscated after your last talk with your lawyer. So, how do you know it’s ten-thirty?”