Chapter 22: You’re Too Naughty, Officer Zhou

Zhou Hui walked into the room and set the items she had fetched from Yu Bai’s home on the bed—toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Why did it take you so long?” Yu Bai looked at her and asked.

Zhou Hui continued unpacking as she replied, “I ran into something unexpected and got held up.”

She made no mention of the incident in the Villa District. Zhou Hui didn’t want to burden Yu Bai with it right now. She deftly sidestepped the topic, pulling out a T-shirt and holding it up in front of Yu Bai. “I couldn’t find any casual clothes at your place. Wearing suits all the time isn’t practical, so I grabbed a few of my T-shirts for you to wear here at the hospital over the next few days?”

Yu Bai’s expression turned a bit peculiar. She looked up at Zhou Hui’s earnest face, holding back a smile as best she could—until she couldn’t anymore. “Officer Zhou, your clothes… they have quite the distinctive style…”

Zhou Hui blinked rapidly and flipped the T-shirt around to look. “…”

Doh! She had been in such a rush that she hadn’t even checked what it was before grabbing it. Most of these T-shirts she used as sleepwear, layering jackets over them in spring and fall, with patterns chosen on pure whim.

As for this one with the Peppa Pig print that had suddenly appeared… Zhou Hui remembered buying it on purpose last year. It hadn’t been long before it vanished into her closet, and she’d felt a twinge of regret when she later wanted to wear it. And now…

Sigh. Zhou Hui felt her image crumbling yet again.

She offered a futile explanation. “It was just a random purchase. If you don’t like it, I have others—I can grab something else for you.”

Yu Bai smiled and took the shirt from her hand, turning it front to back for a closer look. “Actually, I rather like it. No need to go to any trouble, Officer Zhou.”

It seemed Yu Bai genuinely took a shine to the Peppa Pig T-shirt. While Zhou Hui busied herself with the rest of the unpacking, Yu Bai slipped into the bathroom and changed into it one-handed.

When she returned to Ward 315, Zhou Hui looked genuinely surprised. “You managed to change clothes all by yourself like that? Physically challenged but mentally unbowed—worthy of praise!”

Yu Bai wasn’t sure she deserved the compliment. She pursed her lips and climbed back into bed.

Zhou Hui glanced at her and tossed a pair of pants her way. “You should change out of those too. Suit pants aren’t exactly ideal for sleeping in.” When Yu Bai froze in place without moving, Zhou Hui assumed she needed help. She paused what she was doing. “Want me to lend a hand?”

Yu Bai turned away, her tone awkward. “I can manage on my own. You keep doing what you’re doing—don’t worry about me.”

Zhou Hui let out an “oh” and resumed unpacking mechanically, shifting to a spot where she had her back turned to Yu Bai. Yu Bai caught the motion in the window glass and felt a surge of gratitude toward her.

Once Yu Bai had finished changing, Zhou Hui spotted two books scattered on the bedside table and handed them over. “Figured you might get bored, so I brought a couple of books at random. Flip through them whenever you feel like it.”

Yu Bai took them and examined the covers: One Hundred Years of Solitude and Andersen’s Fairy Tales.

A hint of amusement flickered in the corners of her eyes as she held the two books. She looked up at Zhou Hui. “Officer Zhou, you certainly have an eclectic taste in reading.”

Zhou Hui finished unpacking and settled onto the bed across from her with a smile. “My dad picked both up from the old book market years ago. Andersen’s Fairy Tales is the only bedtime story he ever scrounged up for me. He used to prowl those markets almost every day—it was his one hobby outside of work. He accumulated so many books that they filled an entire study. The ones he’d already read ended up piled in my room. When he moved out later, he couldn’t take them all, and I’ve never had the time to sort through them. I just grab one now and then to kill time—no real deep dives.”

Yu Bai smiled. “Officer Zhou certainly follows her whims.”

“And what about you, the straight-A student who went all the way to a doctorate? What do you like to read in your spare time?” Zhou Hui couldn’t help her curiosity.

Yu Bai met Zhou Hui’s expectant gaze and shook her head. “I went to America as a teenager and spent all my time buried in schoolwork and exams—personal time was a luxury I rarely had.” She gave a small smile. “Just like Officer Zhou, I read whatever caught my fancy. No serious study involved.”

Zhou Hui arched a brow, a trace of genuine surprise crossing her face. “I always figured the world of top students was some shining beacon, worlds apart from us ordinary folks.”

“Where on earth did you get that idea?” Yu Bai idly flipped through a few pages, then shook her head with a laugh. “Were you a good student back in school, Officer Zhou?”

“A good student?” Zhou Hui raised an eyebrow. “Please. From childhood right through adulthood, if I managed to sit still in class without causing a scene, my dad would light incense and pray I’d stay that way—half-convinced I’d hit my head or come down with something that flipped a switch in my brain.” She let out a couple of tsks, as if lodging a formal complaint against Zhou Boyan—unmistakably her real father.

“Pfft!” Yu Bai hadn’t expected Officer Zhou to suddenly bring up her own “glorious history.”

“My dad was swamped with work back then, and no one was keeping an eye on me. After school, backpack slung over my shoulder, I’d either roam the streets with a gang of friends or pick fights in group brawls.”

Yu Bai said, “Sounds like you were the kind of student who gave teachers endless headaches.”

Officer Zhou grinned. “Headaches? That’s putting it mildly. Back in middle school, I was smack in the middle of my rebellious phase—whatever Dad said, I did the opposite. Every day, furious parents of kids I’d beaten up would storm into the police bureau, jabbing their fingers in his face and yelling that he had no clue how to raise a child.”

Yu Bai hadn’t realized Officer Zhou had such a colorful rap sheet from her past. She smiled and said, “You must’ve been a real handful, Officer Zhou.”

Officer Zhou nodded solemnly and went on, “And get this—I was still out scrapping with random punks! Right after a fight, I’d head straight to the bureau to hit Dad up for dinner money. He’d chase me all over the place trying to tan my hide. Then…”

“What happened?”

Officer Zhou paused for effect. “He finally caught me, but just then, a call came in about a case. No time left for me—he slapped cuffs on me in the bureau office and bolted to handle it.”

Yu Bai pressed, “Did that make you turn over a new leaf and straighten up after that?”

“Nope.” Officer Zhou gave Yu Bai’s shoulder a solemn pat, fixing her with a look that screamed you’re too naive, and said, “I was peak rebellion mode. No way was I listening to him. I was hell-bent on defying the old man… until I lost out to a single bucket of instant ramen.”

“…”

Yu Bai said nothing, but her eyes all but shouted at Officer Zhou, wow, such lofty ambitions.

Officer Zhou let out a hearty sigh, waved it off, and told Yu Bai, “Hey, it’s just playing it smart—not kicking against the pricks when you’re starving. Belly first, pride later.”

Yu Bai couldn’t quite wrap her head around that philosophy, but she was hooked on Officer Zhou’s stories—they were endlessly entertaining. Smiling, she asked, “And then? Fighting and ditching class every day—how’d you handle school?”

“That’s why… I bombed the high school entrance exam. Dad laid out two paths: option one, vocational high school to pick up a trade so I wouldn’t starve down the line; option two, repeat the year—but just one shot. Fail again, and it’s vocational all the way.” Officer Zhou didn’t wait for the question. “I picked repeating, ‘cause I’d dreamed of the police academy since I was a kid. Vocational would’ve killed that dead. So I buckled down, set some sky-high goals, and really hit the books.”

Yu Bai could picture it all too well: a kid like Officer Zhou, books a distant memory for years, suddenly going full study grind. What a disaster that must’ve been at first.

And sure enough…

“My basics were trash,” Officer Zhou said. “Couldn’t keep up to save my life. Months in, still nada. Then I started pulling all-nighters—three, four hours of sleep tops. Just wrecked myself for zero gains.”

Yu Bai felt for her. “Yeah, you can’t flip a switch like that.”

“Tell me about it! I studied till I questioned my entire existence. Made some progress those last months, but still fell short of the cutoff.” Talking about her school days, Officer Zhou sounded downright wistful about her younger self. “Good thing Pingling City’s worst high school took fee-paying students. First time I ever begged Dad to shell out for it. Wrote up a whole pledge to prove I meant business: no skipping, no fights, study hard every day and make progress. Even inked my thumbprint on it.”

Yu Bai burst out laughing. “That’s basically a deed of servitude!”

Officer Zhou shook her head with a helpless sigh. “Desperate times.”

She still ached thinking about those three high school years—no fun, no distractions. Heartbreaking… but she was grateful too.

“You’re hilarious, Officer Zhou,” Yu Bai said sincerely.

“Hey, thanks.” Officer Zhou waved it off modestly. Then, curiosity lighting up her face like a kid’s, she turned the tables with genuine interest. “Your turn. Got any wild stories?”

The spotlight swung to her, and Yu Bai tensed right up. She clearly hated people prying into her past, hated sharing it. But Officer Zhou had spilled her guts all evening—it’d be rude to shut her down now.

Yu Bai wracked her brain, but nothing fun came to mind. In the end, she gave Officer Zhou the straight, boring facts. “Top of the class from day one, all the way through.”

“…”

Officer Zhou choked for a beat, then said, “Kicking off with that? How’s the slacker sitting across from you supposed to feel?”

After saying that, Yu Bai immediately regretted it a little. It was the first time she’d so brazenly declared herself a top student in front of someone else—she’d gotten carried away, truly carried away. With a sigh, she continued, “You must think the world of a top student is boring. I agree. Every day is the same routine, grinding away for better grades and a shot at a good school, with your head full of nothing but how to outperform everyone else. Pretty dull stuff.”

Officer Zhou asked, “Wasn’t there anything fun at all?”

Yu Bai thought for a moment and shook her head. “Can’t think of anything. Back then, I was always skipping grades, so I’d barely learn everyone’s names before switching classes again. Eventually, I stopped bothering to maintain those relationships.”

Just when Officer Zhou had given up hope of hearing anything worthwhile from her, Yu Bai suddenly broke into a smile and looked at her. “Maybe I was pretty happy when I left Pingling City for America as a teenager!”

Officer Zhou blinked in surprise, sensing something off-kilter behind that smile, but she played along. “Was it because you got into a good school?”

Teenagers that age usually fixated on just a few things: exams, romance, and pure, unadulterated rebellion.

At those words, the corners of Yu Bai’s mouth curved into a smile rich with unspoken meaning. “Something like that.”

Once again, Officer Zhou felt that unfathomable depth to Yu Bai, like a thick, unyielding shell wrapped around her very being.

Yu Bai glanced up at the fluorescent light on the ceiling of Ward 315, where moths were still battering themselves relentlessly against the lampshade. She smiled with a touch of wistfulness and said, “Then I finished my undergrad, my master’s, and my PhD in America. That’s where I met my husband. We came back to the country, got married, and…” Yu Bai paused, then leaned forward toward Officer Zhou with another smile. “And here we are!”

It was clear Yu Bai had glossed right over the pivotal moments of her past—the events that had molded her into the woman she was today. Those were the murky old cases riddled with suspicions, still unsolved after all these years, where her shadow always seemed to flicker just out of reach. What secrets lay hidden behind them?

Officer Zhou studied Yu Bai, trying to read the truth in her eyes, but all she got was a gaze of pure sincerity paired with a flawless smile.

Ultimately, Officer Zhou yielded to that smile. Yu Bai clearly had no interest in dwelling on the topic, and Zhou didn’t want to push her. After all, these were old cases; without directives from the provincial authorities, she couldn’t just go digging around—especially not with someone outside the public security apparatus. It went against all protocol, no matter how you sliced it.

So she let it drop. Glancing at her watch—10:15 p.m.—it was getting late. She said to Yu Bai, “Time to wash up and get some sleep!”

“?” Yu Bai froze for a second, blinking rapidly. She looked down at the bandage wrapped around her arm, then lifted her head to give Officer Zhou a thoroughly puzzled look. “How?”