Po Sir's Police Affairs: The Hunter

The rain stopped.

Jiang Bo returned to the Municipal Bureau at 1 a.m.

He was soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his body like a layer of icy skin. Rain dripped down his hair, running down his neck, chilling him to the bone. But he didn't care about any of that; he clutched the metal box as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Tangyuan was soaked through, its fur clinging to its body, and it looked thinner, shivering as it walked. But it didn't utter a sound, simply following him into the building, each step firm and resolute. It knew its owner needed its company.

The police officer on duty was taken aback when he saw him like this. He seemed about to say something, but then swallowed his words. He simply nodded and watched Jiang Bo walk into the elevator.

The elevator was quiet, with only the hum of the motor. Jiang Bo looked at his reflection in the elevator door—his hair plastered to his forehead, his face pale, but his eyes frighteningly bright. The rusty metal box in his arms gleamed a dark red under the light.

He remembered what was in that metal box: the photos, the letter, the faces of those people.

The man who looks like Tung Chee-hwa. The man wearing the J ring. The man who killed Xiao Mei, killed Ah Zhen, and possibly even her father.

Who is he?

Where is he?

Is he still alive?

The elevator doors opened. Jiang Bo stepped out. The corridor was quiet, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, one after another, like a heartbeat, or perhaps a heavy drumbeat.

The lights in the technical department were still on.

Liu Tong is still here.

He sat in front of the computer, the screen light illuminating his face and making the dark circles under his eyes from staying up all night even more pronounced. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips were chapped, and his hair was a tangled mess, like a clump of withered grass. On the table were several empty coffee cups and a half-eaten instant noodle dish; the noodles were mushy, and the soup was cold. His fingers were still tapping on the keyboard, one tap after another, as if he were struggling with something.

Hearing the door open, he looked up. Seeing Jiang Bo enter and the iron box in his hand, he stood up.

"Found it?"

Jiang Bo nodded. He placed the tin box on the table and opened it.

Liu Tong leaned closer to look. The photos were spread out one by one, their yellowish hue gleaming under the light. His eyes widened, his brows furrowed, and his pupils behind his glasses dilated, contracted, and then dilated again.

"This is--"

"That person," Jiang Bo said, pointing to the man wearing a hat in the photo. His voice was soft, but every word was heavy. "From 1992 to 1993, he was active at the old pontoon bridge. These photos were taken secretly by Zheng Jianguo."

Liu Tong picked up the photo of the profile and examined it closely under the light. He held the photo very close, his eyes almost touching it. His hands were trembling slightly.

"This profile looks a lot like Tung Chee-hwa."

Jiang Bo nodded.

"I know. But Tung Chee-hwa sprained his ankle at that time and was recuperating at home. He has an alibi. His wife testified, his son testified, and his hospital medical records prove it."

Liu Tong was silent for a while. He put down the photo and picked up another one.

"Who is this person? A twin? An illegitimate child? Someone who had plastic surgery?"

Jiang Bo shook his head.

"Dong Jianping said that his brother is an only child. They grew up together and even sharing a pair of pants wouldn't be enough for them. He said there's absolutely no such thing as twins."

Liu Tong put down the first photo and picked up another. The second one showed the person standing by the old pontoon bridge, with their back to the camera. Against the backdrop of the river and the hazy sky, the person's back looked somewhat lonely, somewhat forlorn, and somewhat frightening.

What do these photos prove?

Jiang Bo handed Zheng Jianguo's letter to him.

Liu Tong took the letter and unfolded it. His eyes scanned it line by line, his expression growing increasingly grave. After reading the last word, he looked up at Jiang Bo.

"The J ring. Just like Tung Chee-hwa described."

Jiang Bo nodded. He walked to the window and looked at the night outside.

After the rain, the air in Wuhan was much fresher. The streets were wet, and the glow of the streetlights reflected in the puddles, like shattered gold. On the distant Yangtze River Bridge, traffic was sparse, with only a few headlights flashing by like shooting stars. The river was pitch black, nothing could be seen except for the blinking navigation lights, red and green, like some mysterious signal, or perhaps the eyes of the dead.

"That person killed Xiaomei, killed Azhen, and might even have killed my dad." Jiang Bo's voice was soft, but every word was heavy, like stones hitting the air. "He killed so many people and then disappeared. More than twenty years have passed, and no one knows who he is."

Liu Tong was silent for a while. He walked to Jiang Bo's side and also looked out the window.

"He might still be alive."

Jiang Bo nodded.

"possible."

"He might be somewhere, watching us."

Jiang Bo turned his head and looked at him.

"What did you say?"

Liu Tong pointed out the window.

"I said, he might be watching us from somewhere, just like he watched Zheng Jianguo back then."

Jiang Bo clenched his fist.

That person is still watching.

Zheng Jianguo sensed it. He was being watched. Watched by that person, watched by fear, watched by his own conscience.

Then he died.

"Liu Tong, scan and archive all these photos. I'll keep the originals."

Liu Tong nodded.

Jiang Bo walked to the table and picked up the baby's photo. The baby, wrapped in a red bib, was sleeping so peacefully with his eyes closed. His little face was wrinkled, and his little hands were clenched into fists and placed on his chest.

That's him.

Thirty-one years ago, he was like this, lying on a bed in the orphanage, knowing nothing. He didn't know someone wanted to kill him, didn't know someone saved him, and didn't know that his fate had changed from that moment on.

"This child cannot be kept. But someone wants to protect him."

Who is protecting him?

Dong Zhenhua? He Wu'an? Or that guy who looks like Tung Chee-hwa?

He put down the photo and picked up the letter. Zheng Jianguo's handwriting gleamed with a yellowish light under the lamp, and the words seemed like living people, telling him something.

"That person is still watching. I can feel it."

Jiang Bo carefully put the letter away.

"Liu Tong, tomorrow morning, send these photos out in the assistance notice. Send them to all branch offices, all police stations, and all retired police officers. Also, investigate all missing persons, missing police officers, and accidental deaths in Jiangcheng between 1992 and 1993. Investigate anything suspicious."

Liu Tong nodded.

Jiang Bo walked out of the technical department, with Tang Yuan following behind.

The corridor was quiet, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, each beat like a heartbeat. The motion-activated lights turned on one by one, then dimmed again.

He walked to the office door and pushed it open.

The room was dark. He turned on the light and saw a person lying on the sofa.

Xiuying.

She was curled up on the sofa, asleep. She was covered with an old coat, her own. The coat was very old; the cuffs were worn, and the collar was faded from washing, but it was folded neatly.

Her hair was still wet, clinging to her face; her complexion was pale, and her lips were chapped. Her breathing was light, her chest rising and falling gently, like a leaf in the wind. Her brow was slightly furrowed, as if she were dreaming. Her hands gripped the collar of her coat tightly, her knuckles white.

Jiang Bo was stunned.

"mom?"

Xiuying didn't wake up. She was sleeping soundly, her breathing even, but her brows were furrowed. Her lips moved as if she were saying something, but it was unintelligible.

Jiang Bo walked over and squatted down beside her.

He looked at her.

Looking at her gray hair, it was like withered grass in winter—dry, sparse, and dull. Looking at the wrinkles on her face, they were like a dried-up riverbed, dense and numerous, each one a story, a tale of a sleepless night. Looking at her thin shoulders, they were narrow and frail, like a bundle of dry firewood.

She waited for him for twenty-two years. From the age of thirty to fifty-two. She traveled from Jiangcheng to Jiangxi, from Jiangxi to Hunan, from Hunan to Hubei, and then from Hubei back to Jiangxi. She walked thousands of miles, enduring countless hardships and sufferings.

Now, she's here waiting for him to come home.

Tangyuan came over and lay down beside the sofa, quietly keeping her company. It rested its head on its front paws, its eyes half-open and half-closed, blinking occasionally. Its fur wasn't dry yet, clumped together, but it didn't care.

Jiang Bo stood up, took a blanket, and gently covered her with it.

The blanket was military green; it was issued to him when he was in the army, and he had kept it all this time. He carefully unfolded the blanket, covered her with it, and tucked the edges in.

Xiuying stirred and opened her eyes.

She saw Jiang Bo and paused for a moment. Slowly, light and life returned to her cloudy eyes. Then she smiled.

The smile was light and faint, just a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth, but it warmed Jiang Bo's heart. He remembered those photos: in 1985, she was washing clothes by the river, her profile beautiful. Thirty-nine years had passed; wrinkles had appeared on her face, and gray hairs on her head, but that smile remained. It was hidden in the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, in the slight upturn of her lips, in the gentleness that time could not erase.

"You're back?"

Jiang Bo nodded. He squatted down beside her and held her hand. Her hand was cold, thin, and bony, but she held his hand tightly.

"Mom, what brings you here?"

Xiuying sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her eyes were a little puffy, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were deeper.

"I was worried because you hadn't come back all day. So I asked around and found my way here. They said you were busy and told me to wait."

Jiang Bo's eyes stung a little.

"Mom, you should stay home and rest. It's so late, and it's raining outside."

Xiuying shook her head. The shake was gentle, but firm.

"I'm not tired. Are you hungry? I brought you some food."

She took out a thermal container from the side and handed it to Jiang Bo. The container was old, red, and had peony flowers printed on it. The color had faded, but it was very clean.

Jiang Bo took it and opened it.

Inside were steaming hot dumplings. They were filled with cabbage and pork, each one round and plump, still steaming. The dumpling wrappers were thin, and you could see the light green filling inside.

"Did you do this?"

Xiuying nodded. There was an expectation in her eyes, like a child waiting to be praised.

"It's not very good, but please make do with it. I haven't cooked in years, so I'm a bit rusty."

Jiang Bo picked up a dumpling and put it in his mouth.

Hot, scalding, but delicious.

It tasted better than any dumplings he had ever eaten.

The dough was soft, the filling was fresh, and the saltiness was just right. As he chewed, tears almost welled up in his eyes.

Xiuying watched him eat, a look of satisfaction in her eyes. That satisfaction was like someone who had been starving for a long time finally getting a meal; like someone who had traveled a long way and finally arrived home.

"Eat slowly, don't choke."

Jiang Bo nodded. He picked up one more, then another. He ate very quickly, as if he hadn't eaten in many years.

Tangyuan watched from the side, its mouth watering. It stuck out its tongue, its eyes fixed on the dumplings, and its tail swept back and forth on the ground.

Xiuying smiled. She took a dumpling from the insulated box, held it in her palm, blew on it, and then held it to Tangyuan's mouth.

The glutinous rice ball was swallowed whole without even chewing. After swallowing, it raised its head and stared at her longingly, its tail wagging like a windmill.

"Good dog." Sooyoung patted its head. "Here's another one for you."

She took another one, blew on it, and fed it to the animal.

Tangyuan swallowed it again, licked her hand, and looked up at her.

Xiuying smiled, a very happy smile. Her smile was even brighter than before.

Jiang Bo felt a warm glow in his heart as he watched this scene.

Outside the window, the sky was beginning to lighten. Grayish-white light pierced through the clouds, illuminating the distant river. A new day was about to begin.

After finishing the dumplings, Jiang Bo took Xiuying home.

The streets were quiet, with only a few sanitation workers sweeping. The streetlights were still on, casting a dim, yellowish glow on the wet ground, reflecting a soft light. The air was fresh after the rain, mixed with the earthy smell and the lingering fragrance of osmanthus blossoms.

Xiuying walked very slowly, step by step, with Jiang Bo supporting her. Her legs were bad, and they would ache after walking for a while, but she gritted her teeth and didn't utter a sound. Her hands were cold, but she held his hand tightly.

After entering the room, Xiuying sat down on the sofa. She took a breath and looked at Jiang Bo.

"Mom, you should go to bed early," Jiang Bo said.

Xiuying nodded.

"You should go to bed early too. We have a case to handle tomorrow."

Jiang Bo nodded.

He walked to the door and glanced back.

Xiuying was still sitting on the sofa, looking at him. The light shone on her face, making her wrinkles look like deep furrows, but her eyes were bright. Those eyes were cloudy, the whites of her eyes yellowish, but there was still light in them. That light was the hope of living, the perseverance of waiting for twenty-two years, and the satisfaction of finding her son.

Goodnight, Mom.

Xiuying smiled.

"Good night."

Jiang Bo closed the door, stood in the hallway, and lit a cigarette.

Tangyuan lay quietly at his feet, keeping him company.

The smoke drifted in the darkness, like some unseen sorrow. He watched the smoke slowly rise, slowly dissipate, and finally disappear into the darkness.

The sky outside the window is getting brighter and brighter.

The clouds in the east were dyed a golden-red; the sun was about to rise.

He stubbed out his cigarette and threw it into the trash can.

"Let's go back."

Tangyuan stood up and followed him downstairs.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway turned on one by one, and then turned off one by one.

Jiang Bo stepped out of the building and stood on the street in the early morning.

The air was fresh, carrying the dampness of the rain and the scent of earth. In the distance, the engine of the early morning bus and the cries of breakfast vendors could be heard. A new day had begun.

Tangyuan was at his feet, looking up at him.

It cried out.

That cry echoed through the streets in the early morning.

Jiang Bo squatted down and stroked its head.

"Tangyuan, we're almost there!"

Tangyuan licked his hand.

Jiang Bo stood up and walked towards the Municipal Bureau.

Those photos, those letters, those clues, were all waiting for him.

The person wearing the J ring is also waiting for him somewhere.