"Li Qian, you insisting on coming along is really putting me in a difficult position," Song Xing complained from the passenger seat, turning to look at Li Qian who sat alone in the back. "Who would know if you didn't say anything? The bureau chief insists I stay at the office, but how can a detective solve cases sitting at a desk all day? We need to be out in the field!"
"But the chief explicitly said we're not to take you on field investigations."
"The chief said that personally? Why won't he let me go?"
"Don’t you understand the chief’s intentions?" Song Xing chuckled.
"I... what am I supposed to know?" Li Qian muttered, her face flushing.
Xiao Gao, the officer driving, smirked mischievously. "What Captain Song means is that Chief Zhang likes you—he wants more alone time with you, that’s why he keeps you at the office. If I were the chief, I’d do the same."
"Shut it!" Song Xing smacked him lightly on the head. "Li Qian’s a... well, you know—" He suddenly realized his slip and met Li Qian’s eyes awkwardly in the rearview mirror.
The silence stretched uncomfortably for a few seconds before Li Qian’s expression turned cold. "Chief Zhang said I’m a... guanxi hire ?"
"N-no, I was just guessing."
"What else did the chief say?"
"Nothing! And hey, don’t you dare tell him I said any of this."
"If you don’t explain properly, I’ll go ask the chief myself—and tell him you told me." Li Qian resorted to the classic feminine threat.
Song Xing’s face fell—his career was over, any hope of promotion gone. He quickly backpedaled.
Thus began their negotiation: she promised not to confront the chief if he told her the truth, and he agreed to tell her on the condition she kept it to herself.
After mutual assurances, they reached an understanding—only to suddenly remember Xiao Gao was still in the car. Both fell silent.
Xiao Gao thumped his chest. "I won’t say a word! If I do, Captain Song will kill me." He leaned in eagerly, waiting for the secret.
Song Xing sighed and reluctantly muttered, "The chief didn’t say much, just that you’re a guanxi hire —something about your family being high-ranking officials in Beijing. Fieldwork is dangerous, so for your safety, we can’t take you along."
"What kind of officials are your family?" Xiao Gao pressed excitedly.
Li Qian ignored him, feeling nothing but resentment. So this was why they wouldn’t let her do real police work—all that talk about different divisions in detective work was just an excuse. In the end, men were all liars!
Song Xing tried to console her. "Fieldwork isn’t as dangerous as the chief makes it out to be. Surveillance like this, where there’s no direct contact, is perfectly safe. See, I even brought you along to get some experience. Honestly, the chief means well—don’t blame him, and definitely don’t blame me for telling you, okay?" He forced a laugh.
"Don’t worry, no one will find out it was you, and I won’t go to the chief," Li Qian replied icily.
Relieved, Song Xing finally signaled Xiao Gao to start the unmarked surveillance car and head toward Zheng Yongbing’s residence.
Before setting out, they had checked Zheng Yongbing’s phone location—he was currently at home. If his position changed, the officer monitoring the tracker would notify them immediately.
Soon, they arrived on the street outside Zheng Yongbing’s neighborhood. Xiao Gao parked in an empty spot along the curb, and the three settled in for a long wait.Director Zhang had instructed them not to startle the enemy prematurely and to first investigate why Zheng Yongbing was so vigilant—whether someone else was indeed tailing him.
Zheng Yongbing wasn’t currently a target for arrest; this was just routine surveillance. Normally, such work could be left to rookie officers or auxiliary police, but given that Zheng Yongbing might be connected to Zhou Rong—and the investigation into Zhou Rong was still confidential within the department—Song Xing had to handle it personally.
Surveillance was always tedious. The three of them sat in the car, chatting idly. Song Xing suggested that if Zheng Yongbing hadn’t appeared by evening, they’d withdraw and resume the next day when he went out again.
Unexpectedly, not long after—around four in the afternoon—Zheng Yongbing emerged from the residential complex. He stopped at the entrance, scanning both sides warily before heading diagonally across the street toward a row of eateries. The entire time, he remained tense, as if on guard against something.
Song Xing, who dealt with such people regularly, immediately sensed something off about his behavior. Keeping a close eye on him, Song Xing instructed Xiao Gao to take out a compact law enforcement camera and record Zheng Yongbing’s every move.
Once Zheng Yongbing entered one of the restaurants, Song Xing called Director Zhang to report the situation.
A few minutes later, Zheng Yongbing visited several eateries in succession, buying multiple bags of food. Carrying them in both hands, he left, still glancing around cautiously before quickly returning to the complex.
Following orders, Song Xing sent the full recording back to the department after Zheng Yongbing reentered the complex.
Soon after, Zhang Yi’ang called after reviewing the footage. “Didn’t you say Zheng Yongbing lives alone? Why would he buy so much stuff?”
“Probably food.”
“I’m asking why he’d buy so much food for just himself.”
The question struck Song Xing as odd—what was wrong with someone buying extra food? He replied casually, “Uh… maybe he has a big appetite.”
“I saw him enter a rice noodle shop. How many bowls did he buy?”
“How many bowls?” Song Xing was taken aback. He’d noticed Zheng Yongbing entering the shop and leaving with a bag but hadn’t paid attention to the exact number. “I didn’t check,” he admitted.
“Then go ask right now!”
Song Xing was annoyed. This wasn’t a raid on a criminal gang where they needed to estimate the number of suspects based on food quantities. The director was making a fuss over nothing.
Reluctantly, he got out of the car and went to the rice noodle shop. He discreetly showed his badge to the server and asked how many bowls the man had bought, instructing them not to mention the police visit. Anticipating further questions about the dishes, he repeated the process at the other shops.
Back in the car, he reported his findings: Zheng Yongbing had bought two bowls of rice noodles, a roast duck, half a kilo of beef, several other cooked dishes, and a few cans of beer.
After a brief silence, Zhang Yi’ang analyzed, “Based on the amount, Zheng Yongbing couldn’t finish all this alone. And it’s all meat dishes, plus beer—meaning there’s at least one other man in his home.”
Song Xing gave a noncommittal hum.
“So, don’t you think that’s suspicious?”"I..." Song Xing swallowed hard, thinking to himself, what's so suspicious about it? Zheng Yongbing lives alone, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have friends. If a friend comes over, isn't it normal for him to buy some food to entertain them? But if the boss says it's suspicious, then it must be suspicious. Song Xing had no choice but to agree, "Right, I also think Zheng Yongbing is very suspicious."
"Good. So, I've decided to officially place Zheng Yongbing under targeted surveillance. You handle it." With that, the call ended.
Song Xing's eyes widened. Targeted surveillance meant Zheng Yongbing would be classified as a criminal suspect, requiring 24/7 monitoring of all his movements and exhaustive efforts to gather evidence of any wrongdoing.
As the saying goes, if you often walk by the river, you'll eventually get your shoes wet. Once someone is placed under targeted surveillance, they're in deep trouble. It means every move Zheng Yongbing makes will be under the police's watchful eyes. If he dares to gamble or visit prostitutes, he'll be walking straight into the line of fire.
Beside him, Xiao Gao let out a drawn-out sigh, "Isn't this too much? Just because he bought an extra bowl of rice noodles, he gets targeted surveillance?" Targeted surveillance was no picnic for the police either—they'd have to work in three shifts around the clock to keep tabs on him.
Song Xing sighed and, hearing Xiao Gao's complaint, handed him the phone, "Why don't you tell the chief that?"
Xiao Gao quickly withdrew his hand, signaling complete compliance with the leadership's decision.
Song Xing glanced at Li Qian through the rearview mirror, "What about you?"
"I'll follow your lead on the investigation."
"We'll be working night shifts."
"I can handle it."
Song Xing shook his head, unable to argue with her. Then it occurred to him that putting Zheng Yongbing under targeted surveillance when he hadn't done anything was too much trouble. All they needed to do was find out who had visited his place—no need for overnight shifts. He came up with an idea, "Li Qian, come with me to the property management office. You're a woman and a new officer—you don't have that cop vibe—I mean, you don't stand out. Later, pretend to be a property staff member and go upstairs with the manager to see who's visiting Zheng Yongbing. Once we figure that out, we can report back to the boss."
"What should I say when we're there?" It was her first assignment, and Li Qian felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. "If I can't think of anything, just pretend to be mute."
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