At night, the hustle and bustle of the world outside calmed down.
Jiayi lay in bed, still seemingly able to hear gunshots by her ear. When she closed her eyes, she could almost meet Ye Yongqian’s gaze again.
Initially surrounded by family and lively spirits, she felt completely fine, thinking she no longer needed psychological counseling.
Only now did she realize that the matter was not so simple.
Tossing and turning, she not only lacked the urge to sleep but felt more awake than ever. Any slight noise from outside the window seemed to make her heartbeat quicken.
That heart-pounding sensation was especially pronounced during such quiet, solitary moments.
Staring at the window and the hazy moonlight coming through, she thought, tonight was likely to be a sleepless one.
Just as she was about to sigh, Jiaru, sleeping in the bunk above, suddenly poked her head down and looked at her, “Big sis, can you sleep?”
“What’s wrong?” Jiayi asked in an unusually gentle voice.
“I can’t sleep either. Thinking of that bandit leader passing by you, lowering his head to glance at you, I get scared,” Jiaru’s voice was soft and weary, yet tinged with fear. Like a child scared after watching a horror movie before bed, fearing the fright that would linger for days, “Big sis, can I sleep with you?”
Jiayi nodded and waved her over.
Jiaru, relieved like a pardoned little monkey, climbed down from the upper bunk. She came down to squeeze with her sister out of fear, but chose to sleep on the outside.
The single bed was too small; even though both sisters were thin, they were still cramped together, jostling each other with every turn.
But enveloped by her soft little sister, with Jiaru’s warm body on one side and the solid earthen wall on the other, Jiayi, who had been feeling uneasy, gradually began to feel secure.
As soon as her sister lay down, she curled up slightly, her bottom sticking out of the bed, wrapped well in the blanket, her forehead resting against Jiayi’s shoulder, wriggling around to find the most comfortable position, then stayed still.
Soon, the sound of steady, prolonged breathing could be heard, bringing extra comfort.
Without realizing it, Jiayi’s attention was diverted by her sister, and she too began to feel drowsy.
Gradually drifting off to sleep, some thoughts popped into her mind:
Jiaru fell asleep so quickly; she doesn’t seem particularly scared, does she?
Maybe the little girl guessed that the big sister couldn’t sleep because she was frightened, so she specifically came down to sleep with her. Sleeping on the outside was probably to protect her big sister inside, right?
The reason she spoke of her own fear, rather than worrying about her sister, might be to maintain the brave façade of the policewoman Jiayi…
That cunning little sister… Zzz… Zzz…
…
…
A typhoon named “Osmanthus” is coming, and it will be rainy for a long time.
The bloodstains outside Baojin Bank were swept away by the wind and rain, and life on the streets of Mong Kok returned to normal. People hurried to work early in the morning, bustling about as usual.
Even after a major tragedy yesterday, today they must still hustle for their livelihoods, come rain or shine.
Victoria Harbour is densely populated on both its north and south sides. The streets are so crowded that people almost touch each other as they pass by. On a busy workday, maintaining a “psychological distance” while brushing shoulders, and on rainy days, umbrellas of all colors scrape against each other.
From a high vantage point looking down, the colorful circles of umbrellas bump and spin in a captivating local scene.
Those with cars get into their vehicles, release the handbrake, and step on the accelerator, but first they turn on the radio to catch the local news or a host’s commentary on yesterday’s hot topics.
Those who take public transport tuck their newspapers under their arms or hide them in their coats to protect them from the weather, pulling them out again once they’re safely on the subway or tram.
Double-decker trams sway and rattle through the narrow streets, making sharp turns at corners. Those sitting on the upper deck feel as if the tram might tip over, adding an extra thrill to the ride.
A bespectacled young man stumbles as the tram turns, accidentally bumping into a long-haired female office worker next to him. After apologizing, he notices a newspaper in her hands featuring a particularly clear photo of the female officer Yi Jiayi.
Everyone had seen plenty of photos of Officer Yi firing her gun, but this striking and beautiful portrait was new.
“Is that the sharpshooter Officer Yi from the West Kowloon Serious Crime Unit?” he asks curiously.
“Yes, the Qingcheng Daily captured it during a KTV murder case. The writer mentioned that when this photo was taken, Officer Yi was reprimanding a reporter for not respecting the facts, urging them to be more fair. She passionately argued, ‘Bias can kill, why can’t you be more just, more respectful?’ Imagine her pointing a gun at you and saying that before firing a shot.”
The young man laughs awkwardly, wondering why he should imagine a female police officer pointing a gun at him and firing.
Seeing his expression, the office worker also realizes her words were inappropriate. She laughs apologetically, says sorry, and unfolds the newspaper to share with others who are equally interested in the article.
[… The footage played on TV of Ye Yongqian walking past Officer Yi has been replayed dozens of times. By zooming in on Ye Yongqian’s and Officer Yi’s expressions, bold assumptions about the real situation at that time can be made.
At that moment, two brave detectives inside the bank were exchanging gunfire with two robbers, a life-or-death situation where any new element could tip the balance and affect the outcome.
Ye Yongqian obviously wanted to be the key figure to turn the tide, so he was careful not to startle anyone prematurely. This is probably why he did not kill Officer Yi outside the bank. For him, the best outcome would undoubtedly involve shooting silently from behind the two brave detectives, killing unexpectedly and invisibly.
But his plans were upset by a young officer he underestimated.
This young officer, of course, was the crucial figure at the scene, Officer Yi Jiayi.
From Ye Yongqian’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t take Officer Yi seriously. This battle-hardened criminal, perhaps still possessing a shred of conscience or perhaps due to excessive pride and irreversible contempt for the ‘weak’, spared Officer Yi.
In the end, this arrogant criminal died at the hands of the young officer he looked down upon.
Throughout our nation’s long history, there have been many remarkable women whose appearances belie their astonishing strength.
Empresses, female pirates, female superintendents, powerful women…
We can say the best hunters often appear in the guise of their prey.
Like great strategists, they can proclaim that women hold up half the sky.
Often perceived as the weaker sex, they frequently rise to become the ultimate powerhouses.
On the other hand, children are seen as vulnerable in society and in need of protection.
Yet, throughout our long history, there have also been many heroic children. They are sincere and passionate, possessing the power to change the course of events.
Teenage generals, young children heroes of the resistance against Japanese occupation, and a thirteen-year-old boy who just last month made local news for his daring sea rescue of a young girl.
Those conventionally seen as weak often achieve extraordinary feats. The elderly are also an indispensable part of this group.
In many cultures worldwide, the elderly embark on pilgrimages, such as sending the elderly into the mountains to offer them to the mountain gods in festivals like Yama no Sachiho.
This is because old age is an irreversible state of vulnerability.
However, in reality, figures like Jiang Ziya from the mythical tale “Fengshen Yanyi” and modern renowned scientists are all elderly, yet they accomplish feats in their old age that the young cannot.
Weakness can be a factual adjective but also a prejudice.
I once heard a female officer, Yi Jiayii, say, “Prejudice can kill, and everyone should be fair.” As independent thinkers, we should critically assess all descriptors used to judge others.
The inspiration I got from the Baojin Bank robbery case is exactly this philosophy of life.
Fairness, respect, and anti-prejudice.
With such enlightenment, perhaps all of us can become heroes of our nation…]
The text of this report is passionate, and although it seems to discuss the case, it also transcends it.
Everyone is captivated, injected with extraordinary energy on their way to work early in the morning.
Throughout the day, all bosses, superiors, and colleagues will notice that even the usually laziest people are bursting with positive energy.
After this day, this force is called the motivating power of a hero.
At the same time, on the day of the big robbery, the plaid shirt jacket that Yi Jiayi wore sold out at every stall and shop.
…
…
During the storm, Yi Jiayi could not ride her bike or run to work, so she unusually took the tram with her younger siblings.
Many on the tram were reading newspapers, with headlines either featuring a group photo of the three of them or her solo shot, and one paper even had a front-facing photo of her, as clear as a mirror.
Even as she kept her head down or stood by the window looking at the city’s rainy landscape, many people glanced at her, probably because she looked too much like the female gunman from yesterday’s robbery.
Before getting off near the police station, a passenger even stood up and walked over to ask if she was Officer Yi, to which she quickly waved her hand in denial and hastily disembarked.
Holding a pink umbrella given to her by Brother Sanfu, she jogged all the way to the police station, yet her shoes and the legs of her trousers still got splashed wet.
No one was in the office of Major Crime Team B, so she simply went upstairs to sit idly at Sister Yin’s place. After organizing files for half the day and reading several impressive case reports, Sister Yin finally arrived for work.
Sister Yin hugged Jiayi and, with a tilted head and a giggling smile, she pulled out a small insulated box from her big cloth bag.
“Did you smell that I brought something delicious and specially run up here?”
“What is it, Sister Yin?” Jiayi immediately put down the files and leaned in closer.
Sister Yin opened the insulated box, shooed away her greedy little hands, and carefully took out two partitioned boxes, lifting the lids as she spoke:
“Do you know how much trouble this bottle of stuff caused me? I spent all of last night on it, didn’t do anything else, just made this.
“To mix the milk after removing the cream skin, then put the cream skin back on… and then wow, pour it into a large bowl, two large bowls, pulling milk back and forth until the temperature drops to about 65 degrees Celsius, then mix it with freshly squeezed, completely pure ginger juice, and that’s how the ginger milk curd is made!”
Sister Yin handed Jiayi a spoon prepared in advance and took out her own spoon from the drawer.
“Wow, Sister Yin, you are so amazing.” Jiayi couldn’t wait and picked up a bowl to taste.
Wow, the flavor was unique and not too sweet. The spicy ginger aroma enveloped by the milky fragrance, once tasted, seemed both shockingly good and irresistibly delicious.
Truly a marvelous collision of ginger and fresh milk!
“Eat more, ginger can warm the stomach and fend off the cold, perfect for the sudden temperature drop on this typhoon day.” Sister Yin sat beside her, eating her own portion while watching the young policewoman’s happy face, feeling a slow sense of accomplishment while also feeling a touch of tenderness in her heart, “Ginger can also clear the mind and soothe the nerves.”
Upon hearing this, Jiayi paused in the middle of savoring her dessert, her eyes lifting to look at Sister Yin, suddenly realizing something.
It wasn’t just her luck meeting Sister Yin’s handmade treats, this small box was specially made for her.
Sister Yin had heard that young Jiayi grew up relying on her brother and a pair of younger siblings after losing her parents. After enduring such a big event yesterday, everyone congratulated her with pride, but she wondered if any attentive elder had noticed if Jiayi might be scared, as behind this honor there could also be negative pulls.
Last night, as she watched TV with her family, seeing her unruly young brother, she became even more concerned for Jiayi, so she made this insulated box of ginger milk curd.
After each tasting a bowl, Sister Yin handed the insulated box to her, “Take it back to Team B, think of it and take a little box, eat it slowly.”
“Thank you, Sister Yin.” Jiayi’s eyes were warm, and her heart felt warm.
Sister Yin laughed heartily, walked past her to the window, and changed the topic by pointing outside:
“Look, it’s almost 9 o’clock, the station is starting to fill up.”
Jiayi, still holding her unfinished box, stood by the window, nibbling slowly and watching her colleagues rushing into the station through the rain.
“People are dressed so casually, mostly in military uniforms since they have to change into uniforms at the station anyway, so what they wear doesn’t matter.” Sister Yin pointed out with seasoned insight:
“Those who wear shirts are definitely plainclothes officers. Wearing suits, most likely inspectors. Custom suits are expensive, look at the inspectors, all dressed up and driving luxury cars, so imposing.”
“Eh? Sanfu also wore a shirt today,” Jiayi suddenly noticed a familiar face.
“White shirt, with only one button undone. His personality is still somewhat reserved, not quite dashing enough,” Sister Yin commented with a tsk-tsk, suddenly pointing elsewhere, “Look, that’s Inspector Zhang from CID-A team. His grey shirt looks nice, with the cuffs buttoned up. Hey, are you guys having a big meeting today? To review and commend the actions from yesterday’s Baojin major robbery case? No wonder everyone is dressed so smartly.”
“I think although Inspector Zhang’s grey shirt is detailed and of good quality, he doesn’t have the physique that Sanfu has. Sanfu looks better in the white shirt,” Jiayi felt compelled to speak up for her colleague.
“That’s true, after all, Sanfu is a young lad, still very robust. With such a good foundation, he can’t go wrong with what he wears. Hey, that’s the White-browed Eagle King from ‘O’ division! You met him yesterday, talked to him even. He’s really something. When he was young, he was quite the handsome man. A lot of our female officers would clutch at their hearts upon seeing him.”
“Hahaha,” Jiayi laughed, suddenly spotting a familiar jeep driving into the parking lot. Soon, Fang Zhenyue was seen running towards the police station, using his hand as an umbrella over his head.
“Ah, if we’re talking about dashing, it has to be your Team B’s Sergeant Fang. Black shirt, crisp black suit pants, black leather shoes… and paired with a dark red tie! Wow, the shirt even has three buttons undone. It’s just wild. If I were a few years younger, I might not be able to resist,” Sister Yin couldn’t take her eyes off Fang Zhenyue, constantly sighing in admiration.
Jiayi looked at Fang Zhenyue, her lips curving into a smile. The man seemed to sense something, looked up, and directly gazed towards their small window.
Jiayi was startled, and alongside Sister Yin, both stepped back a step. Avoiding Fang Zhenyue’s gaze, the two women, one old and one young, then looked at each other and burst into laughter.
At that moment, someone entered through the door; it turned out to be Sister Yin’s new subordinate, the junior clerk, starting her shift.
The clerk greeted Sister Yin and then noticed Jiayi, her eyes instantly lighting up, almost screaming as she saluted, “Officer Yi, good morning!”
Jiayi hurriedly smiled back and saluted, glanced at the time, and with only 3 minutes left until 9 o’clock, she took her thermos and bid farewell to Sister Yin and the junior clerk.
As she walked out of the office, Jiayi had a sudden realization, turned back and glanced at the junior clerk.
Indeed! The young lady was wearing a white shirt under the same plaid jacket that Jiayi wore yesterday! Even her ponytail hairstyle was identical to yesterday’s.
Uh, someone is copying my clothes, and even my hair!