You're just a locksmith! What are you doing catching swindlers at the start?

My knee clicked.

He put his phone back in his pocket and turned to look at Lin Zhou.

"What are you looking at?" he said.

Lin Zhou shifted his gaze away from the earthen-yellow crab lock.

"I didn't see anything."

"Go ahead and open it; it's perfect for your major."

Lin Zhou remained silent for a moment.

"Fifty."

"What??"

Old Zhou turned to look at him, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"Unlock it, fifty," Lin Zhou said.

The curb was quiet.

The chat instantly fell silent.

He reported fifty.

"Three-Second King offers Zhou Ge fifty."

"He quoted the drug addict 200 this morning, with the lock cylinder replacement extra. He's now quoting 50 to Brother Zhou."

"Locksmith King: Friend's Price, Fifty"

"Brother Zhou: I treated you to a meal at the cafeteria and brought you here, and you still want money from me?"

Lin Zhou: Fifty

Old Zhou looked at him.

I glanced at it for about two seconds.

Lin Zhou immediately raised his hands.

The movement was swift, like surrender.

"Just kidding. Just kidding."

He squatted down.

The tool bag slid off his shoulder to the ground, and he unzipped it and reached inside.

The screen was still filled with the number "fifty" in the comments, but he didn't look up.

Then he took out a small hammer.

very small.

The size of a palm.

Wooden handle, metal hammerhead.

He pulled out the small hammer.

The chat was starting to tense.

What is he going to do?

"Isn't this for unlocking? Why are you using a hammer?"

"Three-Second King, calm down!"

"That's Brother Zhou's car."

"Even though it's locked, it's still Brother Zhou's car."

"The Locksmith King"

Lin Zhou weighed the small hammer in his hand.

He picked up the small hammer.

The movement was minimal, just a gentle flick of the wrist.

The hammerhead struck the side of the lock body.

Click.

The lock vibrated.

The latch popped out.

opened.

The tan crab-shaped lock was hanging on the wheel hub, the latch fully extended and detached from the lock body.

The whole process took less than a second.

Old Zhou stood next to the car.

But at this moment his mouth was slightly open.

The comments section went completely crazy.

"????????????"

He hit it with a hammer.

"I just knocked once."

"It's not unlocking, it's knocking on the lock."

"Physical unlocking"

"Three-Second King: Lock? I never lock. I just knock."

Did you time it just now?

0.8 seconds

"Less than a second"

He crouched down, took out a hammer, tapped it, and it opened.

"The lock-picking king didn't take three seconds today; he took less than a second."

"The title of 'King of Three Seconds' is no longer valid; from now on, he'll be known as 'King of One Second'."

Old Zhou took the enamel cup off the roof of the car.

He reached out, picked it up, and then put it down.

He looked at the small hammer in Lin Zhou's hand.

It's about the size of a palm, with a wooden handle and a metal hammerhead, and there isn't even a mark on it.

"You're so fast?" he said.

Lin Zhou put the small hammer back into his tool bag.

Zip it up and sling it over your shoulder.

He stood up and brushed the dust off his knees.

"So-so."

Comments flooded in.

"So-so"

He said it was just so-so.

"0.8 seconds, so-so."

"The lock-picking king's humility is more infuriating than his lock-picking skills."

"Zhou: You're so fast? Lin Zhou: Just average."

"The Three-Second King will be called the One-Second King from today onwards."

"No, it's still the Three-Second King. Three seconds is the brand."

Lin Zhou glanced down at the tan crab-shaped lock still hanging on the wheel hub.

The lock is open, but the lock body is still stuck on the tire.

He handed the lock to Old Zhou. "Keep it. It's evidence."

Old Zhou took it.

He looked down at the lock, then at Lin Zhou.

Then I put the lock in the trunk.

The trunk slammed shut with a bang.

Lin Zhou opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat.

The toolbox rested on my lap. The sound of the car door closing was exceptionally clear on the quiet curb.

Old Zhou didn't start the car.

He sat in the driver's seat with his hands on the steering wheel.

He tapped his fingers lightly twice on the leather surface of the steering wheel.

There was silence for about ten seconds.

Old Zhou removed his fingers from the steering wheel.

Lin Zhou turned to look at him.

Old Zhou looked at the windshield.

His Adam's apple moved slightly.

"This person,"

He said the sound wasn't loud, "but I locked my car."

Lin Zhou nodded.

"I want five hundred."

Lin Zhou nodded again.

"They even said they would report me for soliciting prostitution."

Lin Zhou did not nod.

He looked at Old Zhou.

"Brother Zhou,"

Lin Zhou spoke.

"Should we wait for him?"

Old Zhou turned his head and looked at him.

I glanced at it for about two seconds.

Then he reached out and turned the car key—not to start the engine, but to turn on the power.

The car window rolled down a bit, and the wind blew in, carrying the smell of asphalt heated by the sun on the road.

He took the enamel mug out of the cup holder, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of the cold tea.

"squat."

The live chat exploded.

"I'm waiting for him, hahaha!"

"Brother Zhou said to squat."

"Police and locksmiths were waiting outside the clubhouse for someone locking a car."

"Old Zhou: I've been cracking down on prostitution for twenty years, and today someone locked my car and threatened to report me for soliciting prostitution. How can I tolerate this?"

"Unacceptable"

"Brother Zhou drank all the tea; he's planning a protracted battle."

"The herbal tea in the enamel mug is Zhou Ge's fuel for his stakeout."

"Three-Second King: Shall we crouch him? Old Zhou: Crouch. The conversation doesn't exceed five words."

"This is an unspoken understanding between men."

"The bond between the Locksmith King and Brother Zhou has deepened once again."

"From targets of anti-prostitution raids to cafeteria dining companions, from dining companions to stakeout partners."

"What's the next step? To become sworn brothers?"

Old Zhou rolled the car window back up.

The car turned off.

The two people were sitting in the car.

One was holding an enamel mug, and the other was leaning back in a chair.

I waited for about ten minutes.

Lin Zhou moved slightly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

The cigarette pack was flattened even more, the cigarettes inside were crammed together, and the filter was crooked.

He pulled out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, then took out a lighter.

Old Zhou turned his head and looked at him.

Lin Zhou handed over the cigarette box.

Old Zhou glanced at the unfamiliar brand on the cigarette pack, then at Lin Zhou.

Then I took one out.

He rarely smoked, but after lighting it and taking a puff, the smoke slowly escaped from his nostrils and drifted above the steering wheel.

The two men sat in the car, each with a cigarette.

The sunlight pierced through the smoke, turning into a pale blue light.

The chat was quiet for a few seconds.

They were smoking together.

"Three-Second King and Brother Zhou were smoking and waiting for someone in their car outside the club."

"This scene"

"What Brother Zhou is smoking isn't cigarettes, it's patience steeped in herbal tea."

"The way the locksmith offered the cigarette was so natural, like he'd been doing it for years."

They've only known each other for two days.

"Two days? It feels like we've known each other for twenty years."

"When Brother Zhou first met him in the interrogation room, he probably never imagined that he would be smoking and staking out someone in a car with him today."

Oh, fate!

Finished a cigarette.

I waited for about five more minutes.

A person appeared in the rearview mirror.

Riding an electric scooter, I slowly strolled over from the other side of the road.

The basket of the electric vehicle is made of woven wire.

There was a yellow lock inside.

The cyclist was in his early forties, wearing a dark blue shirt with worn-out cuffs.

His face was tanned a deep reddish-brown by the sun, his cheekbones were high, and he had a few sparse whiskers on his chin.

He rode to the entrance of the crescent moon bend, stopped, and put one foot on the ground.

He picked up the lock from the bicycle basket and looked down at it.

Then I looked up at the cars parked on both sides of the road.

His gaze paused for a moment when it swept over Old Zhou's black sedan.

He was probably checking to see if his lock was still on the tire.

He couldn't see it clearly because it was too far away.