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

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Old Zhou placed the enamel mug on the folding table, the bottom of the mug pressing down next to the crookedly numbered slips of paper.

"What do you think we should do with this?"

He looked at Lin Zhou and said, "You are the victim."

Lin Zhou looked down at the man who had locked the car.

The man who locked the car looked up, his dark red face covered in sweat, and a streak of ash on his cheekbone.

He was clutching a handful of marbles, the coppery metal pellets leaking from between his fingers, bouncing twice on the ground before rolling to the corner of the wall.

"Send it in."

Lin Zhou slung his tool bag over his shoulder, speaking in a flat tone, as if to say that the weather was nice today.

"I'm a kind-hearted person. Sending him to jail, with food and lodging provided, is better than him locking up his car outside."

The man locking the car stopped.

A marble slipped from his palm, fell onto the cement floor, bounced twice, and rolled to Old Zhou's feet.

He jumped up, his knee slamming into the folding table leg, causing the empty beer can on the table to wobble and nearly fall over.

"Wait—wait! Let's settle this privately! I'll settle it privately! Thirty thousand! I'll give you thirty thousand!"

He turned around and rummaged through the plastic wardrobe, throwing out clothes one by one until he found a metal box and opened it.

Loose change, coins, and a few crumpled bankbooks.

He put the metal box on the table, and the coins inside scattered with a clatter.

"Really, look, this is all the money I have. You take it first, and I'll make up the difference if it's not enough—"

His voice rose, carrying a smoky hoarseness, as if he were afraid of being interrupted.

Lin Zhou looked at the iron box.

There were probably a few dozen coins inside, but when the passbook was opened, the balance was pitifully small.

He recalled yesterday at the entrance of Yuebanwan, where this person was riding an electric bike with a tan crab lock in the basket, saying into the phone, "Unlock and pay the fine, 500, scan the code to pay."

He probably locked up quite a few people, but where did those 500 go?

There wasn't even five hundred in the metal box.

How can he raise the money?

Then lock a few more cars, squat outside a club, and wait for the next locksmith.

"Stop trying to figure it out, you can't."

He pushed open the metal box. "Send it in, Brother Zhou. This time, it's not about writing a guarantee."

Old Zhou picked up the enamel mug from the folding table.

He had been looking at the passbook in that metal box, and the page he had opened showed a pitifully small balance.

He closed the passbook, put it back in the metal box, and closed the lid.

Then he took out his phone and made a call. After hanging up, he told the man who was locking the car, "Wait."

Less than ten minutes later, footsteps were heard in the alley, and two uniformed police officers walked in from the alley entrance.

The man who locked the car did not look back when he was taken away.

Old Zhou carried the canvas bag in his hand, which contained the twenty-odd broken lock cylinders—physical evidence.

Lin Zhou stood at the entrance of Lotus Lane, watching the police car's taillights turn into the intersection.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the closely packed buildings, falling on the shoulders of his blue down jacket.

Old Zhou stood next to him, holding an enamel mug. The tea in the mug had been cold for who knows how long, but he took another sip.

Su Wan leaned against the car door.

The hood of his dark gray sweatshirt was draped over his back, and his short hair swayed slightly in the wind at the alley entrance.

My phone vibrated.

Lin Zhou took it out of his pocket; it was an unfamiliar number.

He pressed the answer button.

"Hello, locksmith? I left my keys at home and can't get in. Can you come over?"

The female voice on the other end was young, with a slight upward tilt at the end, carrying a lazy and nonchalant tone.

The background noise was very quiet, like being at home, not on the street.

Lin Zhou lifted his toolbox higher. "Address."

The person across the street gave an address: an apartment complex in the eastern part of the city.

Lin Zhou wrote it down and then hung up the phone.

Old Zhou looked at him, holding his enamel mug. "Another order?"

"Hmm. Unlock it. The apartment in the east of the city."

Lin Zhou glanced at Su Wan. Su Wan had already opened the car door and gotten into the driver's seat, leaning out of the window.

"Brother Zhou, I need to go back to the team to write a report, and while I'm at it, I need to send these lock cylinders to the inspection department for filing. The report on catching the human traffickers is still on my desk."

She started the car, and the white sedan drove out of the alley, turned onto the main road, and disappeared behind the bare branches of the sycamore trees.

Lin Zhou stood at the alley entrance, watching Su Wan's car drive away. Old Zhou put his enamel mug back in the cup holder and opened the car door.

"Let's go. I'll give you a ride."

When the car arrived near the apartment building, Lin Zhou got out.

Old Zhou leaned out of the car window.

"Go home early after you've unlocked the door. I just had someone replace your lock with a new one; the key is under the doormat."

After saying that, he stepped on the gas, and the old black sedan merged into the traffic. The enamel cup wobbled slightly in the cup holder.

The apartment building is a high-rise with off-white paint on the exterior walls and windows arranged densely.

There's no access control downstairs, and the elevator lobby is covered with little GG logos for takeout and delivery services.

When Lin Zhou walked in, there were two middle-aged men leaning against the wall in the corridor smoking, flicking cigarette ash onto the ground.

One of them glanced at him—tool bag, blue down jacket, young man.

He nudged the person next to him with his elbow. "Another one."

"This guy doesn't look very old. Believe it or not, he'll have to pay you again."

Lin Zhou paused for a moment.

He glanced at the two people—he didn't recognize them.

They didn't know him; they were just watching a locksmith walk into the apartment building.

He turned his gaze away and walked toward the elevator.

The voice drifted over from behind again—"The last one went in almost an hour ago and still hasn't come out."

"An hour? The lock would have been open long ago."

"Unlocking is unlocking; who knows what happens after the door is opened?"

Then came two people's hushed laughter.

Lin Zhou stepped into the elevator.

Before the door closed, he heard the sound of a cigarette butt being stubbed out on the tiles.

The elevator stopped on the 21st floor.

The door opened, revealing a gray carpet in the hallway, beige wallpaper on the walls, and a ceiling light casting a warm yellow glow.

Room 213 was at the end of the corridor. As he walked over, he saw a woman standing in the doorway.

He's very young, probably around twenty-five.

She was wearing a black tank top, black lace shorts, and a semi-transparent cover-up with the straps loosely draped over her shoulders.

The fair skin below her collarbone shimmered under the warm yellow light.

She stood barefoot on the doormat, her toes painted bright red.

She leaned against the door frame, holding her phone in one hand and playing with a strand of hair in the other, the end of the hair circling around her fingertips again and again.

She saw Lin Zhou walking over, and a smile curved her lips.

It's not the natural, subtle curve like Su Wan's, but a carefully designed curve that knows which angle looks best on it.

"Are you the locksmith?"

Lin Zhou took out the wire and waved it in front of her, then squatted down to look at the door lock.

It was a very basic pin tumbler lock, with four pins, the same type of lock body provided by the developer, and the cheapest zinc alloy lock cylinder. He stood up and quoted the price.

The woman tilted her head. She let go of the hair in her hand, and the ends of her hair fell down to her collarbone.

"Sure. As long as you can drive, once you're inside, you can name your own price."

When she said "went in," her tone rose slightly at the end, and she looked at him.

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