Middle of the night.
Chen Erhu and Sanbing’s shouts were piercingly loud—felt like they could carry two li away.
Because the sound spread so wide, Chen Jian couldn’t quite place where they were, and had to yell when he burst into the lobby: “Where are you?!”
“Headed toward the front gate!” Sanbing shouted back.
This time it was clear—the sound came from near the garden.
Someone was in the café.
The café was still a ways from the gate—you had to cross the garden. The easiest escape would be to jump the courtyard wall.
But this person hadn’t jumped. Either he wasn’t fit enough, or he had something in his hands.
The café’s bottle wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t something you could stuff in a pocket either, and it was fragile; if you wanted to carry it out, you’d need a bag and run.
There was no time to check with Shan Yu on what to do.
Besides, Shan Yu had purposely not told Chen Jian what his plan was.
So right now, Chen Jian didn’t need to guess what Shan Yu wanted—just handle it by the normal logic for “a thief broke into the shop.”
Go catch the thief.
He grabbed the baseball bat Shan Yu kept by the front desk and sprinted out the main doors—just in time to see a shadow dart out through the gate.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs behind.
A sleepless Happy Bean shouted too: “What’s happening? A thief?!”
If only they woke this fast for morning roll call, Big Bean Liu would be moved to tears.
“Do not go!” Hu Pan yelled. “Stay inside! I’ve called the police!”
They wouldn’t catch up anyway.
Chen Jian dashed out the gate; in his peripheral vision he saw Chen Erhu and Sanbing vault the fence behind him to follow.
The shadow ahead was still sprinting. Chasing this guy down would be a lot harder than chasing Chen Erhu last time.
But today, Erhu’s speed was astonishing too—like he’d eaten a poisonous mushroom.
After a short chase, Chen Jian could see it was Chen Dahu—bigger than Erhu, and a bit taller.
The moment he recognized him, a stab of sadness hit. If he could tell who it was, then Erhu would recognize him even more.
No wonder he was running like a madman.
Chen Dahu shot through the intersection onto an empty street.
At the fork ahead stood an unregistered motorcycle.
An accomplice.
If he got on the bike, they’d lose him. Chen Jian knew there was a tracker in the bottle, but he had no idea if it was actually synced, nor whether Shan Yu had stuck it on to track or just for show.
Didn’t matter. He didn’t know. All he knew: to catch a thief, you need both the person and the stolen goods.
“Chen Jian… Chen… Jian…” Erhu panted behind, sprinting for his life. “Let me… let me chase…”
Chen Jian slowed for a beat; maybe it was his imagination, but he could hear a sob building in Erhu’s broken words.
“Let me chase… please…” Erhu squeezed out.
Chen Jian eased his pace. A louder clamor swelled behind—The Justice Beans had joined, and out of thirty Beans, at least ten boys were right on their heels.
Chen Dahu probably never expected an inn to be packed with such high-energy youths.
As Chen Jian slowed, Erhu, huffing and puffing, pushed past him.
But he clearly wouldn’t catch up—before he could reach his brother, Dahu would be on the bike.
Chen Jian stopped, bent, sighted, and hurled the baseball bat.
He didn’t have Shan Yu’s flair for fancy tricks, but he could hit a target.
The bat spun past Erhu’s leg and, just as Dahu launched himself onto the rear seat, banged hard into the motorcycle’s back wheel—then rotated another half turn on momentum and jammed into the spokes.
The bike had just begun to lurch forward when it yanked sideways and skidded out, flipping to the ground.
Dahu hadn’t even settled his seat; he flew off and slammed onto the sidewalk. The driver braced with a leg and didn’t fall hard, yanked the bike up, jumped on, gunned the throttle without a blink—and roared away, leaving Dahu behind.
“Don’t run!” Erhu finally caught up to his brother and tackled him.
Dahu rolled, lay on his back, and snapped a kick straight into Erhu’s face as he bent to grab his arm—solid contact to the bridge of the nose.
It was a heavy kick—enough at that angle to break the nose.
Erhu shrieked, clapping one hand over his face.
What shocked Chen Jian was that Erhu still stretched out his other hand—grimly grabbing the leg that had just kicked him.
Pinned by the ankle, Dahu couldn’t stand, so he leveraged Erhu’s grip and fired more kicks with his other leg—several straight to Erhu’s face.
Chen Jian tore in, yanked Erhu backward and flung him aside, then drove a kick into Dahu’s face.
Through clenched teeth: “You still dare hit people, you bastard!”
He hadn’t been this angry at first. He knew, even if he pretended otherwise, that this was a trap Shan Yu set for Dahu—and getting Dahu to take the bait was enough.
But seeing this cruelty toward his own younger brother, just for trying to stop a crime, lit him up.
He kicked Dahu in the stomach again.
Dahu swung the bag in his hand at Chen Jian’s leg.
Honestly, it had no impact. In that kind of fury, even a lump of iron wouldn’t register—let alone a bottle.
Yes, he felt it—that was the bottle from the café.
Right then and there, that bottle worth over ten thousand… shattered.
“Bro!” Erhu, clutching his face, wrestled free from Sanbing’s hold and lunged again. “If you don’t stop now, there won’t be any turning back!”
Chen Jian grabbed Erhu’s arm and hauled him back again.
Erhu toppled into Sanbing; both plopped onto the ground.
“Motherf—” Dahu jammed a hand into his pocket.
Chen Jian took one stride to retrieve the bat he’d thrown and swung at Dahu—catching his forearm just as he drew a knife.
The blade clattered to the ground.
Chen Jian kicked the knife away and swung again—this time not too hard—cracking into the back of Dahu’s knee. Dahu buckled to the pavement.
“Hold him—!” The Justice Bean squad arrived right then.
A bunch of boys swarmed and buried Chen Dahu in a pile of bodies.
“Don’t hit him!” Liu Wu’s voice came from somewhere inside. “Just restrain him!”
I already hit him, little brother.
In the heap, Chen Jian tried but couldn’t spot Liu Wu; several boys were shirtless, some half in their shirts—clearly straight out of bed.
—
Shan Yu, seated in his wheelchair, glanced into the café. The spot where the bottle had been was empty.
The racket that had faded outside was returning; looked like the college kids were triumphant.
In this chaos, the bottle was almost certainly a goner.
Even if Dahu wanted to return stolen goods, too late.
This timing—chosen specifically to land him in prison.
“Got him! Got him!” Hu Pan ran in from the gate. “Boss, they caught him—no one’s hurt…”
“Mm. Catching Boss Shan is pretty easy.” Shan Yu nodded and exhaled.
If it weren’t for Liu Wu, with so many young men rushing out, it’d be hard for any of them to get hurt—especially with Chen Jian there. If anyone did, it’d be Chen Jian.
But when the crowd herded Dahu back into the courtyard, Shan Yu realized he’d judged wrong.
The only one injured was Chen Erhu.
Both eyes swollen to slits, nose clearly crooked, lips puffed.
Shan Yu frowned.
“Police won’t come that fast,” Hu Pan said. “There was a dispute in the village last night, they went there—still on their way back…”
“Tie him up and lock him in the storage room,” Chen Jian directed. “Fix his hands to the pipe—don’t let him thrash. Panpan, go calm guests…”
“Okay.” Hu Pan nodded.
“I’ll get the med kit.” Zhao Fangfang hurried over, handed the storage key to Chen Jian. “Erhu’s face needs immediate care.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian answered. Some male guests had come downstairs; others peered over the stair railings.
“Don’t open that bag, don’t move it—and that knife too. Keep everything as-is. Those are stolen items—evidence,” Liu Wu said. “Block the café off with chairs—don’t let anyone contaminate the scene.”
“Take your classmates back to their rooms,” Chen Jian told Liu Wu quietly. “Don’t crowd here. When this is over tomorrow, I’ll thank them properly.”
Tomorrow your brother will definitely chew you out.
“No thanks needed—we barely helped.” Liu Wu struggled to keep his face calm, but the excitement leaked through. He waved to the boys and lowered his voice: “Go, go—back to the rooms, don’t scare the other guests.”
After a brief frenzy, the first floor cleared. Dahu was locked in the storage room, secured to a pipe with a U-lock.
Shan Yu turned his chair toward the restaurant. The others followed; Sanbing helped nearly-blind Erhu to a chair.
“Disinfect first,” Zhao said. “Go to the community clinic tomorrow—this bone is almost certainly broken.”
“That bottle’s ninety-nine percent smashed,” Sanbing winced.
“It’s smashed,” Chen Jian said. “He broke it on my leg.”
Shan Yu glanced at him. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Chen Jian shook his head, looking at Erhu. “He was the first to rush in…”
“Boss Shan…” Erhu tilted his head back as Zhao cleaned the wounds. There weren’t many cuts, just a few small ones—but the whole face was swollen, the nose crooked—hard to even recognize him.
“Rest now; see a doctor tomorrow,” Shan Yu said. “You worked hard.”
“I’m sorry, Boss.” Erhu said with difficulty.
“You didn’t wrong me,” Shan Yu answered. “And don’t apologize for your brother. He feels no remorse. He’s him; you’re you.”
Erhu paused, then suddenly sucked in two shaky breaths—tears spilling from the slits of his eyes.
“Don’t cry, kid,” Zhao patted his head. “It’ll make your eyes worse.”
“Sanbing,” Shan Yu jerked his chin. “Help Erhu back to the dorm.”
“I’m not going.” Erhu gritted his teeth. “I’m waiting here for the police. I’m a witness.”
Everyone fell quiet.
“Sir, please return to your room,” Hu Pan’s voice came from the front desk. “Everything is fine now. Sorry for disturbing your rest.”
Following the sound, Chen Jian saw the man from Room 102 standing at the doorway.
Two days—and this was his first time out.
“Apologies, sir,” Chen Jian walked over. “Would you like a drink or a late-night snack?”
“No, I’m fine.” The man looked toward the restaurant, thumb holding his phone. “I just…”
If you dare post and smear us, I’ll—
Chen Jian stared at him.
“I’m documenting my trip,” the man said.
“Understood.” Chen Jian nodded. “Hope the thief incident didn’t affect you.”
“Not at all—quite exciting,” the man turned back to his room. “Actually shows your place is safe—security response is fast, not just for show.”
“Thank you for your recognition of our work.” Hu Pan chimed in quickly, setting the tone.
During holidays, the town’s precinct was slammed and understaffed. After handling the village dispute, they drove straight to the inn—still a full hour later.
Sanbing and Erhu, as eyewitnesses through the whole event, sat in the conference room giving their account: during patrol they saw someone in the café—he ran when spotted—then the group chase.
Burglary. Assaulting by kicking. Resisting with a knife…
“This Chen Dahu—this day was coming sooner or later…” The officers were well acquainted with him. “We’ll take him back first. Please come to the station to give statements. If you have receipts proving the value of the stolen item, bring them.”
Chen Jian followed Shan Yu into the office; Shan Yu handed over the invoice and the bottle’s certificate.
“He’ll be sentenced this time, right?” Chen Jian asked.
“Might even qualify as robbery,” Shan Yu said. “But since Erhu helped catch him, the sentence might be lighter.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian watched him. “Was that your plan?”
“A whole mob charging out to catch a thief—that wasn’t in my plan,” Shan Yu said.
“Erhu…” Chen Jian frowned. “Do you think he’ll plead for his brother?”
“Not anymore.” Shan Yu said. “Even a fool’s heart can be broken.”
“I’m heading down,” Chen Jian said. “You should rest. I’ll call if anything comes up.”
“Rest my ass.” Shan Yu said.
“…It’s your shop that got robbed,” Chen Jian said. “Sleep first. Giving a statement shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll try not to call.”
Shan Yu smiled. “Go on then—don’t keep the officers waiting.”
Giving statements wasn’t hard, but it ate time. By the time they left the station, dawn had broken.
“Buy some beef noodles,” Chen Jian told Sanbing. “Take them to the precinct—those officers stayed up all night for our case. I’ll take Erhu to the clinic.”
“Got it.” Sanbing nodded. “What if they won’t accept it?”
“Drop it and run,” Chen Jian said. “Who told you to wait for acceptance?”
“Okay.” Sanbing swung onto his bike. “Erhu, go to the clinic first!”
Erhu said nothing—just waved.
Chen Jian mounted his own motorcycle, looked back at Erhu. “Hop on.”
“Chen Jian,” Erhu climbed onto the back, his swollen face making speech difficult. “Let me ask you.”
“Ask.” Chen Jian started the engine.
“Was this all a setup by Shan Yu?” Erhu asked.
Chen Jian’s hand froze on the throttle. Surprised, he glanced at Erhu through the mirror.
So sharp?
“I don’t know,” Chen Jian said. “Do you think it was?”
“I just think… it’s too coincidental.” Erhu said.
“…Why not ask him?” Chen Jian said. He really didn’t know how to answer—and wasn’t sure if Erhu having such thoughts might affect the case.
“No.” Erhu’s voice was very low. “If it was him… I’d only thank him. He saved me.”
“Chen Dahu was bound for prison sooner or later,” Chen Jian said, twisting the throttle toward the community clinic.
“I’ve got to work hard before he gets out,” Erhu said. “Get some experience. Try to leave this place.”
“You?” Chen Jian blinked.
“Yeah,” Erhu nodded. “Aren’t you all going to leave too?”
…Are we? Will we?
When Erhu came out of the clinic, his head was bandaged like a massive steamed bun.
“Bridge is definitely broken.” Chen Jian set the station’s receipt on the desk. “He needs to go to the city for a forensic injury assessment. I approved his leave.”
“His idea or the station’s?” Shan Yu asked.
“He asked for it himself,” Chen Jian said.
Shan Yu let out a light sigh.
“Breakfast?” Chen Jian asked.
Shan Yu looked at him. “Quite the appetite—after all that, you’re still thinking of breakfast?”
“It’s because of all that that I’m hungry,” Chen Jian said.
Shan Yu laughed. “We’ll head out together in a bit—then go see Half-Immortal Chen.”
“Lamb rice noodles?” Chen Jian asked.
“You’re fired.” Shan Yu rolled into his chair and left the office.
The moment they exited, they saw someone standing down the hall.
It was Room 102’s man.
“Shit,” Chen Jian muttered. “What a pain. Why’d he come here?”
He strode over quickly and raised his voice: “Sir! Can we help you with anything?”
The man turned. “Is it this room?”
“What?” Chen Jian blinked.
“The one someone died in,” the man said.
Chen Jian bit down on a curse.
“Do you need something?” he asked.
Do you have something wrong with you?
“I’m looking for the room where the suicide happened,” the man said.
“Is the gentleman planning to commit suicide?” Shan Yu asked politely.
Chen Jian snapped his head around. Boss!
That’s not how you talk to people!
