Following this, Sir Fang, along with two junior officers, participated in a photoshoot organized by the Public Relations Department. One photo, where all three were aiming their guns at the camera, was chosen by Inspector Guo of the Public Relations Department to be sent to major newspapers like “Sun and Moon Daily,” headlining the front page.
The colleagues in the Public Relations Department fully utilized their writing skills and propaganda acumen to consolidate the recent achievements of various departments of the Hong Kong Police into one article, which was widely publicized to highlight the police’s efficiency and forcefulness in solving crimes and capturing felons.
Paired with continuous coverage of a major heist on various media outlets like newspapers and television for a week, the atmosphere in Hong Kong was extraordinary for the next half month.
Not only did the public’s perception of the police improve significantly, appearing more noble and positive, but criminals also kept a low profile. After all, with Ye Yongqian’s detailed plans leading to police descending suddenly and wiping out elite criminal gangs, who knew if the police were also lying in wait during their schemes?
Especially recently, the police departments across Hong Kong seemed invigorated as if injected with adrenaline, actively participating in “Blue Sprout” operations and sweeping for vice, with news of old cases being solved daily. Police in uniform catching thieves could chase them down nearly ten blocks without letting go… The police were on a frenzy, making criminals and potential offenders extremely nervous and cautious, marking this period as the best in terms of public safety for the year in Hong Kong.
Inspector Guo from the Public Relations Department also enjoyed the limelight and received praises, cheerfully sending flowers, banners, and afternoon tea to Team B all day.
Team B became ‘most popular’, with officers like Liu Jiaming and Gary gaining more prestige and recognition within the police force.
In everyone’s eyes, they seemed even cooler and more daring than the big bosses with cigars in movies.
But during such times, Jiayi had her own troubles. Because of her positive image and representative role as the one who shot the gang leader, the Public Relations Department continually asked her for photo shoots and video recordings. Major newspapers blocked her doorway, wanting interviews.
She found it unbearable, barely having time to read files or drink black tea in Sister Yin’s office, too busy and too bothered, even being recognized while walking on the street or eating out.
Even though she was less socially anxious now, she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly and couldn’t possibly wear a mask every day, right? These experiences thoroughly dissuaded her from her occasional thoughts of becoming a big star. It just wasn’t feasible!
Thus, on the twelfth day of these events, Jiayi decided to change her hairstyle!
When she first sat in the barber’s chair, she was excited and looking forward to it, smiling broadly and relaxed.
But as her long hair fell to the ground, she suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
Outside, the storm intensified, and the barber’s indifferent face wielded the scissors boldly. Jiayi began to feel a profound sense of melancholy.
Sensitive as she was, losing her long hair was bound to bring tears.
In the past, there was Daiyu burying flowers1“Daiyu burying flowers” refers to a famous scene from the classic Chinese novel “Dream of the Red Chamber” (红楼梦), written by Cao Xueqin. The character Lin Daiyu, one of the principal characters of the novel, conducts a ceremonial burial for fallen flowers in the garden of the grand estate where she lives. This act is symbolic and deeply poetic, reflecting Daiyu’s sensitive and melancholic nature., and now there was Jiayi crying over her long hair.
Jiayi felt this ritual was important, and even without tears, she should force a couple out as a way to say farewell to her long hair.
Just as she was getting emotional, a string of bells hanging on the door of the barber shop suddenly started ringing incessantly, and five or six robust young men, soaked by the rain and carrying broken umbrellas, rushed in.
The empty seats on both sides of Yi Jiayi were quickly taken, and as she looked around, she locked eyes with the man on her right who had bleached blonde hair.
As soon as he saw her looking, he smiled and said, “Little sister is so beautiful, prettier than Anita Yuen with short hair. How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
Yi Jiayi’s tears instantly disappeared. Touching her face in the mirror, she asked, “Am I beautiful?”
“Beautiful!” The young man sitting on her left didn’t want to be outdone. He complimented her loudly and enthusiastically.
Yi Jiayi giggled and shyly touched her hairline. Her inherently sensitive and thoughtful nature was completely overwhelmed by the wild and carefree attitude typical of old Hong Kong locals.
Looking in the mirror, Yi Jiayi suddenly realized that the guys, including the blonde, might have been hitting on her.
The hairdresser removed the cape from her shoulders, and she stood up, sternly saying, “Stop goofing around and just cut your hair.”
The group of strangers laughed good-naturedly and said goodbye to her.
Yi Jiayi shook her head, smiling. After paying, she walked out head held high.
She felt exhilarated, the name Anita Yuen popping into her mind.
Chuckling to herself, she opened her umbrella and walked into the rainy night, disappearing into the drizzle.
Inside the barbershop, the young people continued to debate whether girls with short hair or long hair were prettier.
…
…
Outside, the fierce wind continued to howl through the night, making the weather feel suddenly cool and then overly chilly.
Yi Jiayi, not used to her short hair, felt a chill at the back of her neck. While trying to sleep, she had to pull her blanket up to cover her neck snugly to feel warm.
As she wrapped herself tightly and slowly drifted off to sleep in the cozy warmth of her bed, elsewhere in the city, behind tightly drawn curtains, the party went on.
The rainy night did not deter the revelry. Many sought out fun and pleasure, while others peeled off their rough exteriors like lychees, revealing their tender, juicy flesh, ready to be offered up as goods, hands outstretched.
The party lasted until the early hours, when even the most nocturnal began to feel tired and finally quieted down.
People sneaked out of the red-lit venue, checking their surroundings before stepping confidently onto the street, no longer timid.
Some left in pairs, others alone, scattering from Portland Street into the surrounding areas.
At around five in the morning, in an old community on Portland Street, a tall and slender figure clad in black clothing and a hat, with a black scarf pulled up over the nose, darted out of a building. Amid the continuous low rumble and the unique tranquil mix of sounds following the rain at dawn, the figure quickly fled.
Only when the figure stepped out of the neighborhood and onto the street did the figure open an umbrella, remove the rubber gloves stained with traces of blood, and toss them into a rain-soaked trash bin.
The rubber gloves rolled up in a pile of newspapers, with the blood quickly diluted by the rainwater, seeping into other trash and old newspapers, staining the photos of heroic detectives published there red.
Gradually, more rainwater flowed into the trash bin, silently washing away the blood.
The gloves were thoroughly cleansed, and the newspapers gradually faded from their vivid colors to a damp, yellowed darkness.
…
…
As the dawn broke in the east, the torrential rain subsided, leaving only a fine drizzle.
The tap-tapping of rain on the windowsill, the sounds of residents pouring water, cooking, and the occasional noisy barking and voices stirred the entire city awake.
Today, the holiday was over. Jiayi put on the raincoat suit given to her by Brother Sanfu, paired with waterproof, slip-resistant sneakers, and ran to work.
With her hair cut short, her entire demeanor became fresher.
She appeared less soft, more valiant and candid. Wrapped up tightly and running along the road, her figure was slender, her movements crisp, making it hard to distinguish her gender.
After the typhoon, many sanitation workers were busy on the streets. They cleared standing water, unclogged drains, and swept away leaves knocked down by the storm. Traffic police maintained order on the congested roads during the rainy weather.
Jiayi even saw a young boy, wearing a yellow shower cap, helping an old lady across the slippery road at a crosswalk.
Moved to tears, she heard the boy say to the old lady as they walked on the sidewalk, “Grandma, I want to eat fish tonight, can you cook it for me?”
The old lady replied, “If Ah Ming likes it, of course, it’s good.”
Oh, they were actually grandmother and grandson.
Under her rain hat, Jiayi couldn’t help but chuckle, resting in place for a few seconds before continuing her slow jog.
Approaching the Yau Ma Tei Police Station, a tree branch had been snapped off by the typhoon near the roadside. Two young people were helping to move the branch aside, and Jiayi also lent a hand.
When she reached the police station, she felt especially good, not only because exercise releases dopamine, but also because of the delightful scenes she witnessed on the road and the self-satisfaction from doing good deeds and helping others.
After half a month of recuperation, Fang Zhenyue’s injuries had healed remarkably well, almost completely.
During this period, public safety in the city improved significantly, and the serious crime unit found itself unusually idle. Without major cases, they revisited old ones, reevaluating logic, redoing lab tests, inspecting sites, and conducting interviews. Since there was no urgent manhunt, everyone was much more relaxed.
Early in the morning after getting up, Fang Zhenyue did 100 frog jumps on the steps of his home’s villa courtyard. After driving to the police station, he went to the gym to do 30 one-arm pull-ups and 50 sit-ups, ending up dripping with sweat but feeling exhilarated. As he stepped out of the gym and headed towards the men’s changing room, he came face to face with Yi Jiayi, who was also soaked in sweat.
The two of them, sweaty, met and Fang Zhenyue Immediately stopped in his tracks, nodding to her from a distance to avoid getting too close and making her uncomfortable.
Jiayi wiped off her sweat, smilingly greeted him with “Morning, Sir Fang,” and then turned into the women’s changing room to shower in the rinse area.
Fang Zhenyue, keeping a cautious distance, finally relaxed and turned into the adjacent men’s changing room.
After a few steps, he suddenly paused: “Huh? Little Eleven seems to have gotten a haircut!”
Men, when they get gossipy, can outdo even the most avid gossip-loving women.
Jiayi, refreshed from her shower and with her hair dried, changed into a white sports outfit and returned to office B, where she was immediately surrounded by Liu Jiaming and others.
“Wow! Eleven has cut her hair short! Looks so cool!” Jiaming exclaimed excitedly, “I want to get a short haircut too.”
“You already have…”
“Jiayi looks so dashing! It’s a crime not to enter a beauty contest!”
“Why cut your hair? Did you go through a breakup?”
“Short hair looks better than long! Keep this style from now on~”
“I think even shorter would look better, Jiayi has a great face shape and delicate features, she would be the most stunning even bald—”
“The most stunning boiled egg?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Hey!” Jiayi protested loudly.
“Hahahaha…”
Everyone was laughing and enjoying the moment when Fang Zhenyue suddenly entered with a stern face, knocked on the doorframe’s whiteboard, and loudly called for order:
“Alright, focus. We have a dispatch.”
“Ah?” Startled by the sudden call to duty after these peaceful days, Sanfu was somewhat confused.
Why dispatch?
What for?
“Portland Street, Cheong Yan Building complex, Unit 2 on the 2nd floor of Building 3, a female corpse was found. Naked, with her clothes neatly folded to the left of her body, lying flat on the bed with a fatal stab wound to the center of her breasts… Da Guangming has already left home and reached the scene. Go go go!”