Chapter 24: "A Misunderstanding"

“What’s going on here, you two?” Zhou Sen stepped in, inserting himself between the two women and asking in a firm tone. “This is the Nangang Police Station Security Division, not a marketplace. If you want to argue, take it outside to the yard…”

The moment Su Yun saw Zhou Sen enter, she instinctively moved to stand behind him.

“Well, well, Officer Zhou, you just got promoted and already you’re showing both gallantry and authority!” Jin Suying sneered, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Zhou Sen’s composure faltered for a moment; he coughed into his hand. “Secretary Jin, please, have some mercy on me in front of Miss Su, will you?”

“Oh? And when have you ever shown me mercy?” she shot back.

“It was just a dance, Secretary Jin. Is it worth making such a fuss over?” Zhou Sen tried to placate her.

“If you invite me to dinner at Musashino tonight, I might consider forgiving you,” Jin Suying replied, her eyes glinting with a hint of smug satisfaction.

“Sorry, Secretary Jin, but I have to spend tonight reviewing the Sherkin case. I’m afraid I can’t accompany you,” Zhou Sen declined. Musashino was the finest Japanese restaurant in the city. While he could afford it, he had neither the appetite nor the desire to dine with a woman like Jin Suying.

“So you’re toying with me?” At this, Jin Suying’s expression immediately soured.

“How am I toying with you?” Zhou Sen answered seriously. “Didn’t I just apologize? What more do you want?”

“You call that an apology?”

“What else would you call it?” Zhou Sen straightened his back, meeting her gaze.

“Zhou Sen, you go too far…” Jin Suying was so angry her nostrils flared. Just moments ago, she had thought Zhou Sen was yielding to her, that the man she could order about had returned—but apparently, it was all a joke.

“Secretary Jin, your position is to serve Mr. Akiyama. The Security Division’s affairs aren’t under your jurisdiction, are they?” Zhou Sen added pointedly.

The Japanese loved to supervise every department within the puppet state, keeping all real power in their own hands. In truth, all meaningful authority in the puppet government’s civil and military offices belonged to the Japanese; the so-called Manchukuo officials were nothing but puppets. To secure their loyalty and ensure they crushed any resistance, the Japanese allowed them only the barest scraps of power.

Yet, even for these measly scraps, the collaborators fought tooth and nail, their infighting both pitiful and ridiculous—and, frankly, infuriating.

“Zhou Sen, just tell me—who is she?” Jin Suying suddenly pointed at Su Yun, her voice sharp. Clearly, her thinking was nothing like a man’s; if Cui Miao had overheard, he might have leapt up to fight Zhou Sen then and there.

Su Yun felt a bit anxious. She had been swept up in this for no reason and still didn’t understand why this policewoman was so hostile toward her. Now, seeing Zhou Sen enter, she started to piece things together.

This Jin Suying must be fond of the young officer named Zhou Sen who had brought her here. Unfortunately for her, Zhou Sen did not reciprocate, and her affection had turned to resentment…

“Miss Su lost her wallet. She saw me patrolling, asked for help, and filed a report. I brought her back for questioning. Is there a problem?” Zhou Sen explained.

“Is that true?”

“Of course it is,” Zhou Sen nodded. He had nothing to hide; he barely knew Su Yun—hardly even acquaintances.

“Very well, I understand.” Jin Suying cast Su Yun a glance, snorted, and swept past Zhou Sen out of the room.

…

“Miss Su, are you alright? If you’d like, I can call a carriage to take you home. If we find your wallet, I’ll have someone deliver it to you tomorrow,” Zhou Sen offered. Su Yun was so strikingly beautiful that keeping her at the station would only cause “trouble.”

“Alright.” Su Yun simply nodded. It was already dark outside. If she didn’t go home soon, Su Wenqing would be worried.

“Ye San, go and call for a carriage.”

“No need, Zhou Sen. Take my car and drive Miss Su home yourself,” Director Song Pinyuan said as he entered, tossing Zhou Sen a set of keys.

“Director Song, wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Zhou Sen was surprised—Song Pinyuan was notoriously stingy. Why was he being so generous today?

“What’s inappropriate? I’m just lending you the car, not giving it to you. Just make sure you return it tomorrow,” Song Pinyuan replied. “Enough talk—hurry up and take Miss Su home.”

“Alright, thank you, Director Song.” Zhou Sen knew to refuse again would be rude. This favor was only because he was currently in Akiyama’s good graces.

Otherwise, would Song Pinyuan, who always judged people by their status, ever lend him his car?

Song Pinyuan’s car was a black Dodge—not new when he bought it, but he’d paid to have it repainted and waxed, joking that he lavished more care on the car than he ever had on his wife.

Zhou Sen opened the door for Su Yun to sit in the back, then got into the driver’s seat himself, started the ignition, and shifted gears. Thanks to his predecessor’s memories, he had no trouble driving this old-fashioned car, even if he’d never done so before.

The car rolled smoothly onto the road, heading toward the Wenchang Bridge area where Su Yun lived, at a cautious twenty or thirty kilometers an hour. The roads were icy, and it was dark—there was no rushing tonight.

Zhou Sen focused intently on his driving, while Su Yun sat silently in the back, the atmosphere growing a little heavy.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Su Yun finally spoke. “Officer Zhou, is that policewoman, Miss Jin, your girlfriend?”

“No,” Zhou Sen replied at once.

“But I could see it—she likes you a great deal. She cares deeply about you,” Su Yun pressed gently after a pause.

“Miss Su, do you enjoy prying into other people’s private affairs?” Zhou Sen retorted.

“No, no, it’s not that, Officer Zhou. You misunderstand. I just think that Officer Jin is very beautiful. Men usually like women like her,” Su Yun explained hastily.

“Please remove me from your generalization about ‘men.’ There are many beautiful women in this world—do you think I fall for each one I meet? Just like you, Miss Su—you’re a beauty too. Should I fall for you as well?” Zhou Sen replied. “Just a figure of speech—don’t take it personally.”

Su Yun’s cheeks flushed faintly. What woman doesn’t feel pleased to hear such praise?

“Then why don’t you like Officer Jin?” she asked softly.

Zhou Sen fell silent. Why should he discuss this with someone he barely knew? There was no need.

Su Yun realized she had overstepped; they had only just met and weren’t even friends. Her question was indeed a bit forward.

Still, this Officer Zhou was unlike any policeman she’d met before—young, rather handsome, and nothing like the stuffy old-timers.

Unnoticed, the car had already arrived in front of the grand Su residence.

He parked and opened the door for Su Yun.

“Miss Su, I’ll do my best to retrieve your wallet. Once it’s found, I’ll have someone deliver it to you,” Zhou Sen said, then got back into the car and drove off without another word.

Su Yun lingered at the gate, watching the car disappear into the darkness, a little dazed. She’d never met anyone quite like him before.

“My goodness, young miss, you’re finally home! The master was so worried he nearly sent people out onto the streets to look for you!” The iron gate swung open and an elderly servant, wearing a melon-shaped hat with ear flaps, came out to greet her.

“Uncle Xing, where’s my father?”

“He’s in the study, waiting for you to have dinner. Honestly, you went out alone without telling anyone—” Uncle Xing scolded gently.

“But I’m back now,” Su Yun replied, playing the innocent.

…

“Su Xing, did you see who brought her home?” Su Wenqing, just over forty, had a square face and a natural air of authority that spoke of years in a commanding position.

“Master, it was a young man—handsome, by the look of him. After the young miss got out, she seemed rather reluctant to part ways…”

“Xiaoyun’s only been back a few days. How does she know someone like that? Find out everything about him for me tomorrow!” Su Wenqing ordered.

“Master, I recognized the car. It belongs to Song Pinyuan, chief of the Nangang Police Station Security Division.”

“Song Pinyuan?” Su Wenqing was taken aback. Could his daughter have befriended a policeman?

A Xing said no more. Though he was Su Wenqing’s steward and confidant, he knew better than to interfere in family matters.

“Su Xing, I want to know everything about this young man. Xiaoyun is my only daughter—I can’t let anything happen to her!” Su Wenqing declared.

“Yes, sir. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it myself.”

“By the way, Su Xing, what is Bai Yulan after? Marrying me would make her the future mistress of the Qixing Hall. What more could she want?” Su Wenqing snorted. His wife had passed away many years ago, and he had never remarried.

“Master, Bai Yulan is proud and ambitious. She would never yield easily. All these years, while you and Old Qin have been locked in open and covert struggles, she’s managed to profit from both sides. Old Qin himself covets her as well.”

“That sickly Old Qin? If Bai Yulan really married him, she’d be widowed again in no time—what would she gain from that?”

“Old Qin used to be sworn brothers with Director Yu. Even though Director Yu has been transferred to Xinjing, many of his appointees are still in the police headquarters. The Japanese give him face, too. We have connections as well, but when it comes to real power, we can’t match Old Qin,” A Xing analyzed.

“Lin Dakuan, that slippery fox—I invited him to a banquet at Houdefu and he refused to come. Clearly, he doesn’t want to offend Old Qin…” Su Wenqing fumed.

“Master, Lin Dakuan is famous for his cunning. By not accepting your invitation, he’s not only avoiding Old Qin’s wrath but also waiting to see who comes out on top between you two. Once the outcome’s clear, he’ll side with the winner.”

“The key is the Japanese attitude. If they supported me as the president of the Harbin Chamber of Commerce, this would have been settled long ago.”

…

Zhou Sen had intended to return Song Pinyuan’s car immediately, but upon arriving at the station, he found that Song had already gone home for the day.

Gu Laoliu, however, had returned.

He’d retrieved Su Yun’s wallet, arriving just in time—otherwise, the money would have been split up, and getting it back would have been difficult.

“Who was responsible?”

“Little Lump, one of Big Abacus’s men. This kid targets young girls. There’ve been five or six cases this month that I know of,” Gu Laoliu replied.

“Didn’t anyone report it?”

“Report it? Petty thieves like these, even if we catch them, they’re out after a few days. Once released, the victims suffer even more,” Gu Laoliu said, shaking his head with a wry smile.

“Isn’t there any way to deal with them?” Zhou Sen muttered. He had always despised such thieves—able-bodied, yet unwilling to provide for themselves.

“What can we do? They’re just children—some only seven or eight, a few in their early teens. Most are orphans. They survive day by day. Even if you send them to the orphanage, they won’t stay,” Gu Laoliu replied.

Zhou Sen fell silent. It was a grim reality—one he was powerless to resolve. It would require government intervention.

But under the Japanese-controlled puppet regime, would such an issue ever be addressed?

It was out of the question.