Chapter 45: Let’s Test the Waters

“Drink coffee? The case isn’t solved yet—what coffee?” Zhou Hui turned on her heel and started walking away.

“Do you have to be so dedicated, Officer Zhou? A little work-rest balance wouldn’t hurt!” Yu Bai jogged after her for two or three steps, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, don’t go! Zhou Hui—”

Zhou Hui had no choice but to stop.

Yu Bai wiped the smile from her face and tossed a set of keys to her. She jerked her chin toward her SUV—a vehicle that could hold its own against a sea of Mercedes and BMWs in the hospital’s underground garage, shining just as blindingly. “Alright, no more joking around. I’m taking you to meet someone. Hop in.”

“Who?”

Yu Bai flashed a sly, scheming grin. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Zhou Hui gripped the steering wheel and twisted around to press her. “Okay, we’re in the car now. Spill it—where are we going?”

“Guer District, Ten Li Shop.” A crafty glint flickered in Yu Bai’s eyes as her slightly husky voice filled the enclosed space. “The case has stalled, right? So let’s test the waters.”

The SUV eased out of the parking garage, made a turn at the hospital entrance, zipped through the bustling downtown commercial district in no time, and veered into the city’s largest urban village.

“Testing the waters here?”

Twilight was falling, and the city’s neon lights were popping on one after another in a riot of colors. But once they entered Guer District, the lights grew spotty—three out of every four bulbs broken, five out of eight flickering weakly.

Crumbling, haphazard buildings lined the narrow, twisting alleys strewn with broken bricks and rubble everywhere.

“Didn’t you always want to know where I get my information?”

Zhou Hui made no comment.

Yu Bai rolled down the window and pointed vaguely into the chaotic alleys. “Wu Guojiang’s file came from these underground informants.”

Street vendors hawked skewers, noodle soups, fertilizer, birds, fish, and insects from either side of the road. The haggling over a fifty-cent price difference mingled with the stench of rotting sewage from the city drains and cheap perfume, flooding the car and saturating the urban night.

Poor living conditions, a mishmash of socioeconomic backgrounds, management loopholes—it was a criminal’s paradise.

Many folks here still clung to the dream that if one person from the neighborhood struck it rich, the whole block would ride their coattails to glory. They spent their days loafing around, pilfering this and that. It was a classic no-man’s-land, home to types like Wu Guojiang and Jiang Jiwen: thugs, hoodlums, gossipy busybodies, prostitutes, and riffraff of every stripe.

Yu Bai seemed right at home here. She rested her elbow casually on the windowsill and said offhandedly, “Captain Zhou, do you know how many such informants there are in Pingling City?” She held up two fingers and a thumb to Zhou Hui. “Twenty-three.”

“They specialize in picking up street-level gossip—petty thefts, brawls, vendettas, you name it. They know all the ins and outs. Kind of like the informants you guys cultivate.”

Zhou Hui couldn’t deny it. She’d spent years in criminal investigation, nurturing sources both overt and covert. Those people’s identities were wildly varied and unpredictable; you could never pin down who they really were.

But they often delivered unexpected breakthroughs for the police.

Yu Bai went on, “Seventeen of them are right here in Guer District. Nine in the Ten Li Shop area alone. On the surface, they run hardware stores, foot massage parlors, full-service hair salons—legit fronts they can show the world. But the shady stuff they do behind closed doors? Unprintable.”

“You know this place well.” It wasn’t a question.

Yu Bai’s lips curved faintly. She knew what Zhou Hui meant and explained calmly, “Not really familiar—just know a couple of friends from doing business. Turns out I’ve got a passing acquaintance with the local boss.”

A gentle night breeze slipped in, bringing a hint of coolness as the temperature dropped.

Yu Bai’s soft brow bone was mostly shrouded in shadow. From this angle, Zhou Hui caught an impression of surprising depth.

She said nothing, just asked, “Which way now?”

Yu Bai glanced out the window a couple of times and pointed ahead. “Let’s hit the jade shop first.”

“What for?”

“You can’t test the waters empty-handed! Folks in this line of work are superstitious—most believe in something. Pick up a piece of jade to bring along; it’ll make them more likely to talk. Plus, that crowd has mouths like sewers. They’ll curse out your ancestors eighteen generations deep even in a joke. Buying jade’s like warding off bad luck for yourself.”

Zhou Hui: “…………”

The jade shop.

Zhou Hui picked up a four-jin Pixiu at random and turned to Yu Bai. “How about this one?”

She’d never put stock in superstitions and knew nothing about the lore.

Yu Bai turned at the sound, unable to stifle a laugh. “Whoa! A Pixiu? And that big? Trying to ward off evil spirits or what? Swap it out! A Jade Toad or jade cabbage will do—something for good fortune. You’re not going to tear the place down, are you?”

Zhou Hui: “…………”

In the end, Zhou Hui walked out of the shop cradling a two-jin Jade Toad.

As they were leaving, the boss—fingers weighed down by five or six rings and a mouth flashing gold teeth—shouted after her from behind, “Little sister, come play often! Next time, big brother will help you clear out that bad vibe! Guaranteed to leave you feeling refreshed and clear-headed!”

A chorus of sharp, gleeful whistles erupted around them instantly, the flirtatious intent plain as day.

“Why didn’t he call out to you?” Standing by the car door, Zhou Hui finally couldn’t hold back and asked.

Yu Bai struggled to suppress the laughter threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes and brows, replying with dead seriousness, “Maybe he thinks your… aura is one of a kind.”

Zhou Hui eyed Yu Bai up and down, taking in her impeccably tailored suit. Someone might have believed she’d just stepped out of an international conference at the Foreign Ministry. The unspoken message: that air of someone blissfully ignorant of the world’s grit doesn’t exactly fit in around here?

Yu Bai finally lost it and let out a “pfft” of laughter. “Zhou Hui, you’re just too cute!”

The boss’s jade shop had been running here for over a decade, and he’d seen—if not ten thousand—at least eight thousand people. He was the consummate smooth talker, the kind who could chat up ghosts in ghost lingo. Even someone with poor eyesight could tell Yu Bai knew this place like the back of her hand—a real pro who’d been haunting spots like this for years.

He could practically sense by instinct that she had tight connections with those big shots lurking in the shadows. No way was he going to run his mouth and piss them off, inviting trouble for kicks.

Zhou Hui racked her brain for ages but couldn’t pinpoint what made her aura so “special.” She swallowed her frustration and stayed quiet.

“Let’s go!” Yu Bai crooked a finger at her. “Car can’t make it down the alley. We’ll walk.”

Zhou Hui trailed Yu Bai through the maze of twisting lanes, winding around for seven or eight minutes before they halted in front of a foot bath parlor.

Faded yellow and white bulbs framed massive red-lit characters, a third of them burnt out and left that way. Zhou Hui squinted for a good while before deciphering “Yuanrong Foot Bath Center.”

She pushed aside the greasy plastic curtain, and the interior was so pitch-black it was near impossible to see a thing. Only the Martial God of Wealth idol on the rundown fountain gave off a faint red glow, lending the place an eerie vibe that defied description.

Business was dead. A yellow-haired guy lounged bored behind the front desk counter, head down scrolling his phone. He looked up at the sound, and in the next instant, he was all smiles, hurrying over. “Sister Yu? Whoa, what a rare visit! You should’ve given a heads-up—I got nothing ready. Hey, what’s this? So polite, bringing gifts?” With that, he took the jade toad from Zhou Hui’s hand and hollered toward the back. “Hey, get over here, guys—thank Sister Yu!”

A swarm of red-, yellow-, blue-, and green-haired types popped up out of nowhere, surrounding them in a dizzying blur as they chorused with laughter, “Thank you, Sister Yu—”

Yellow Hair yanked over a green-haired kid. “Hustle! Go grab some beer, watermelon, melon seeds… Move it!”

“No need…”

But Green Hair had already bolted like a shot.

Yu Bai just smiled, said nothing more, and pivoted. “Third Brother around?”

Yellow Hair shrugged and jerked his chin toward the back. “You picked a bad time, Sister Yu. Third Brother jetted off to Chiang Rai the day before yesterday. Said something about hitting up a temple to pray for his boy’s marriage luck. Beats me.”

Purple Hair jumped in, cracking up. “Bet he prays up a ladyboy this time?!”

She followed with a weird cackle, mimicking a few “Sawasdee ka”s, and the surrounding crew of red, yellow, blue, and green heads exploded into over-the-top laughter.

“Wouldn’t put it past Third Brother to be into ladyboys himself—ditching us this time to party solo in Chiang Rai…”

“Hahaha!”

“You lot and your big mouths! I’ll rat you out to Third Brother later.” Yellow Hair grinned and fake-threatened them before turning back to Yu Bai. “Don’t mind them, Sister Yu. What’s the visit for today? Bringing Police Sister to have some fun again?”

Only then did Zhou Hui recall seeing this Yellow Hair at Miller Bar before. He was the one who’d refused to let her shield Yu Bai from the drinks.

Yu Bai said, “I’m here to see Uncle Jiu, pick his brain on something.”

“Uncle Jiu’s in the back.” Yellow Hair nodded toward the even darker doorway at the rear, then shot Zhou Hui a knowing lookover and grinned at Yu Bai. “Uncle Jiu can’t stand cops. Have Police Sister play it low-key.”

Yu Bai gave a polite smile. “Got it. Thanks.”

Zhou Hui followed Yu Bai through the grimy, cluttered lobby and asked offhandedly, “What’s Uncle Jiu’s story?”

At that, Yu Bai halted. Massage chairs lay scattered every which way at her feet, towels draped haphazardly over the backs, and behind them, the battered gray-white walls shed flakes with a soft rustle.

Without a trace of emotion, she said, “Fifteen years ago, his son got thrown in prison. Less than two years in, he pulled a deliberate crime inside and got executed by the cops… So watch yourself in there later.”

Zhou Hui distinctly caught the pause at the end, her voice softening just a touch.

Startled, she replied at once, “Won’t I be good as long as I don’t blow my cover?”

Yu Bai gave her an appraising look from head to toe. Even in a simple black T-shirt and black pants with her neat, crisp short hair, Zhou Hui couldn’t hide her innate upright bearing and air of righteousness. Yu Bai shook her head. “You might not fool them.”

These people had clawed their way through the underworld for years, surviving on their ability to read others at a glance.

Yu Bai’s hunch was spot on.

They pushed open the yellow-painted sliding gate at the end of the lobby. An older man with a long scar across his left cheek looked up from a desk cluttered with scribbled Peach Talismans. He took one glance at Zhou Hui and growled darkly, “Cop!”

“Uncle Jiu…” Yu Bai began.

Uncle Jiu blew on a still-wet Peach Talisman and added leisurely, “I don’t do business with cops.”

Yu Bai glanced at the peeling leather sofa in the corner and pulled Zhou Hui down onto it without a second thought, as if the man’s clear dismissal hadn’t been aimed at them.

“Uncle Jiu, give me some face. Third Brother and I have been working together for ages—business like this isn’t easy to come by. Help me out this once, and whatever you want, just say the word.”

“Whatever I want? Can your cop here take care of me in my old age like my son could? I, your father, do every kind of business there is—except with cops. My boy’s over there hollering injustice to me every damn day. He didn’t go peacefully!” Uncle Jiu slammed the table with a resounding bang and fixed Zhou Hui with a glare. “If this stinking cop wants to talk business with me, she might as well drop dead!”

“Uncle Jiu, I couldn’t care less how your son’s faring on the other side. But I’m no pushover saint myself. I offer you a wide path and you insist on the narrow bridge? Fine by me.” Yu Bai arched a brow lightly, her eyes flashing a clear warning. “Business has been rough lately, hasn’t it?”

He flew into a rage, leaping to his feet as if to strike—only to stumble after two steps and collapse back into his chair. His leg was clearly injured.

Yu Bai made a half-hearted dodge and rubbed her temple. “Word is, those debt collectors have you cornered. They the ones who roughed you up?

“You’ve got to look forward. You’re getting on in years with no one to see you off. You don’t want to end up a corpse in the gutter with nobody to even collect the body, right? How about this: I clear up your little problem, and I’ll take one percent less off this deal…”

“Shut your mouth!” Uncle Jiu forced the words through clenched teeth, jabbing a finger at Yu Bai. “I’ve been going easy on you for Third Brother’s sake, but if you insist on sticking with this cop, don’t blame me for what’s coming.”

With a wave of his hand, five or six men burst in from outside.

“Lock up this stinking cop and that woman. Let ’em get a real taste of what my son went through in the clink.”

Yu Bai whipped her head around. “Uncle Jiu, no need to roll out the red carpet like this. Deal falls through, we meet again as friends—harmony breeds wealth, after all. You really gonna go that far?”

She was certain Uncle Jiu wouldn’t dare lay a hand on her. Everyone in these circles knew what Yu Bai was capable of—who’d be fool enough to touch her?

Seeing no response from his side, she patted the sofa with a regretful sigh. “In that case, we’ll be on our way, Uncle Jiu.”

At the door, she paused, turning back with a provocative grin. “Next time, I’ll buy you a cup of tea.”

Uncle Jiu, fuming with nowhere to vent, could only flip the table in frustration.

By the time they stepped out of Yuanrong Foot Bath Center, night had fully fallen. Yet the Guer District buzzed with even more energy than before. The nightlife here never slept, a chaotic medley laced with the faint, earthy scent of street life.

Yu Bai seemed utterly unfazed, clearly accustomed to scenes like this.

Spotting a roadside barbecue stall, she pointed casually. “Grab something to eat before we go?”

After a whole evening of hassle, Zhou Hui suddenly remembered she hadn’t eaten. She started to nod, then recalled how wretched Yu Bai had looked the day before. She’d been too busy rushing back to the station to check on her, and Yu Bai probably still wasn’t fully recovered.

Zhou Hui scanned the area, her gaze settling on one stall. “How about some stir-fried dishes instead?”

Yu Bai blinked in surprise, then nodded with a smile. “Sounds good.”

“Stir-fried beef ho fun, claypot porridge, steamed sea fish, white-cut chicken…”

At a plastic round table in the open-air diner, Zhou Hui rattled off the orders. After all those days in the hospital, she’d gotten a good sense of Yu Bai’s tastes.

“That’s plenty.” Yu Bai cut her off helplessly. “We can’t eat all that.”

“These for starters, then.” Zhou Hui passed over the menu and poured tea for Yu Bai. “You barely ate anything today.”

At noon, she’d been tied up interrogating Jiang Jiwen and had only picked at her boxed lunch.

Yu Bai cradled the teacup, steam rising in gentle curls. Even this cheap tea carried a subtle, lingering fragrance.

In that small gesture of care, she felt a long-forgotten, almost alien sense of contentment. It tugged at her heartstrings.

She came back to herself as the dishes arrived. They chatted idly, sentence by sentence, until the conversation circled back to the case after just a few exchanges.

When they were nearly done, Zhou Hui ladled a bowl of porridge for her. “What now? Any other leads?”

Yu Bai took the bowl and shrugged. “We do have some contacts, but Uncle Jiu’s information in this area is the most reliable. If he won’t talk, it’s unlikely any of the other informants will give us anything either.”

The connections between these underground information networks ran far deeper than they appeared on the surface. They operated by their own brutal, airtight code of survival.

Zhou Hui paused for a moment, caught off guard.

Spotting that subtle reaction, Yu Bai continued, “But in business, there are only eternal interests—no eternal enemies. Didn’t I set up that tea with him? If not today, then maybe next time. I’ll figure something out.”

Yu Bai smoothed the furrow from her brow and flashed Zhou Hui an utterly innocent smile. “So, Officer Zhou, could you take me home now?”