Ms. Ming had almost never cooked before their family went bankrupt. Afterward, she had tried to learn, but since she lacked talent, her cooking existed in a realm between “edible” and “horrible”—which usually meant just plain horrible. Ming Xi had spent three days vomiting and suffering from diarrhea once after eating her food. Ms. Ming had felt so guilty that she’d stuck to simple meals since then.
Her skills had improved over the last three years, but not to the point of making four dishes a day.
Ming Li remained silent for a moment. “Is it good?”
Ming Xi paused. “It’s… okay? About the same as the food in my school cafeteria.”
The sisters chatted as they exited the building, where they found the nanny waiting. The woman was in her early forties, wearing casual clothes and looking quite kind. Her eyes were red, suggesting she had been crying over Mingyue’s disappearance.
“My surname is Jin. You can call me Jin-jie or Auntie Jin,” the nanny said.
Since this nanny was a recent hire, Ming Li hadn’t met her before. After a brief introduction, she asked the woman to recount the day’s events. Ming Li had Ming Xi call the police while she took Auntie Jin to the park’s security room.
The security guard, acting like he was king of the world, gave them a dismissive look. “Can’t let you see it. Call the police and have them check.”
“We just want to see if the child left the park and which way she went,” Auntie Jin pleaded. “Please, just let us look.”
The guard leaned back, cracking sunflower seeds and scanning Ming Li and Ming Xi with a lewd, lingering gaze. He chuckled. “You want to look, they want to look… do you think this is a wet market?”
Ming Li pulled a thousand yuan from her bag. “The child is unwell. If anything happens to her in your park, I won’t just sue the park—I’ll sue you personally.” Her voice was cold and warning. “Let us look. It makes things easier for us and clears you of any negligence.”
Ming Li’s commanding presence, honed by her time around Gu Xueqiang, was intimidating.
The guard froze for two seconds, his eyes darting to the money. He quickly stuffed the cash into his pocket. “Now, why the harsh words? Children are the future of our nation. Protecting them is everyone’s responsibility. Do you want to see the front gate or the back?”
“How many gates are there?” Ming Li asked.
“Three,” the guard replied. “But the East Gate is closed today, so just front and back.”
Ming Li took his seat and clicked through the footage.
According to Auntie Jin, Mingyue had needed to use the restroom after arriving at the park. Auntie Jin had accompanied her, but when she came out, Mingyue was nowhere to be found. She had searched the surrounding area for half an hour, but no one had seen the girl.
There were no cameras near the restrooms. Ming Li could only check the gates around the time of the disappearance. Halfway through, the police arrived.
While Ming Xi recounted the details to the officers, Ming Li continued scanning the footage at double speed.
Finally!
Ming Li hit the spacebar and zoomed in. She saw Mingyue leaving through the front gate. She fast-forwarded a bit more to confirm the girl hadn’t returned.
Ming Xi finished explaining the situation to the police, emphasizing that Mingyue was hearing-impaired and lacked any electronic devices like a watch or phone.
With the police involved, things moved faster. Ming Li and Ming Xi took Auntie Jin to the station to file a report, then stayed by the officers’ side to watch city surveillance and identify the girl.
Eventually, the police locked onto a target: 71 Wusong Street.
It was a dessert shop called A Certain Dessert Shop.
According to the footage, Mingyue had entered the shop with a woman and hadn’t come out.
71 Wusong Street.
A Certain Dessert Shop was packed. The waitress at the counter was frantically packing cakes, and the receipt printer was humming so fast it practically smoked. Despite the speed, the queue remained long.
In a corner of the shop, a woman wearing a white cap sat with her chin in her hand, intently observing the child sitting across from her. The child was silent, focused on eating a chocolate mousse with a small fork.
“Is it good?” the woman asked.
The child didn’t even look up, continuing to eat.
The woman looked up boredly, only to see the woman working the register rolling her eyes at her.
After a while, the woman at the register stepped away from her post. She walked over and reached out to pat the child’s shoulder. The girl flinched violently, dropping her fork on the floor in fright.
“Oh! I didn’t mean to.” The woman reached down to pick up the fork, but the woman in the white cap had already stood up, retrieved a fresh one, and handed it to the child.
“Here you go,” she said gently.
“Luo Chaoxue,” the cashier huffed, “you’re making me look like a villain.”
“Aren’t you?” the woman in the white cap teased. “It’s the Qingming Festival, and you won’t even give your employees a day off.”
“Small shops like mine live for holiday business. If I close, what will I eat?” the owner replied. “Besides, I’m paying everyone double and giving them holiday bonuses. And their lovely boss—me—just spent thirty minutes personally working the register. I am one with my staff.”
Luo Chaoxue tutted. “You’ve certainly mastered the capitalist playbook.”
“It’s honest earnings.” The owner paused. “What are you going to do about the kid? She really seems like she can’t hear.”
“I don’t know.” Luo Chaoxue frowned. Looking at the girl’s delicate features, her heart melted. She stared for a few seconds until the owner snapped her fingers in front of her face.
“Friend, you’re acting like a creep, you know that?”
Luo Chaoxue smiled. “Not even a fraction as much as you.”
“…”
“Zhongli,” Luo Chaoxue said, “do you think she’ll cry if I take her to the police station?”
Zhongli Shi smiled. “How will you know if you don’t try? I don’t think she’s lost. She looks like she ran away.”
“How is that possible for a child this small?” Luo Chaoxue argued. “She probably just got separated from her family.”
