One Third Remaining Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Gift

The secret to both waiting by the tree for a rabbit and catching a turtle in a jar is the same: it all hinges on patience. Wait for the right moment, then strike with the force of thunder, seizing the advantage.

He Wei’s attempt at catching a turtle in a jar ended in failure, for he hadn’t foreseen Wang Chao’s use of a decoy. Wang Chao had already slipped away unnoticed, even holding a lengthy conversation face-to-face with He Wei without being recognized.

On the way to the suburban crime scene, He Wei received a call from the police station: they had found a tracking device in the Jinbei van, but the drop-off location provided by the ride-hailing service was deserted. He Wei couldn’t help but marvel at the opponent’s meticulousness and flawless planning.

Wang Chao’s own attempt at lying in wait failed as well. Though his superb acting had deceived He Wei, and he had even unexpectedly learned that Han Mei was heading to the hospital, all that was left was to wait for her there and look for an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow.

But this seemingly simple task ultimately ended in failure. Who could have guessed that as soon as Han Mei stepped out of the car, she headed straight for the gynecology emergency room? The hospital was crowded and chaotic, making it impossible for Wang Chao to follow closely. He waited until Han Mei emerged from the emergency room before moving, only for someone else to strike first just as he was about to act.

Nevertheless, Wang Chao was not discouraged. Hunting is rarely a matter of instant success; it requires patience to catch the prey you desire. Patience was something he’d long since mastered, worn to steel by the relentless grind of Jin Yue all these years.

Wang Chao loitered at a vendor’s stall outside the hospital, pretending to browse while his eyes occasionally darted toward the entrance. When he saw Han Mei, heavily pregnant, come out and hail a taxi, his face lit up. He put down what he was holding and raised his hand to flag down a cab himself.

Just as Wang Chao opened the door to get in, Yellow-Hair came rushing out, phone pressed to his ear, and slipped into the taxi ahead of him. He turned and said, “Sorry, brother, I’ve got an emergency. You’ll have to get the next one…”

Before Wang Chao could react, Yellow-Hair slammed the door and the taxi sped away. Wang Chao’s outstretched hand froze in the air, his face darkening as he cursed, “Damn it! You bastard! Ever heard of first come, first served?”

His plans ruined by Yellow-Hair yet again, Wang Chao took a few deep breaths to steady himself. After glancing back at the hospital, he smacked his forehead, his eyes lighting up once more. He pulled his mask higher and strode quickly toward the emergency room. He looked for the profile of the young doctor he had spoken to earlier, memorized the department, hunched his shoulders, shoved his hands into his pockets, found the doctor’s office, and pushed open the door…

With a creak, the door swung open and Yellow-Hair strode in, frowning at the old man dressed in black sitting in the shadowy corner of the living room. With a look of annoyance he said, “Weren’t you supposed to be at the prosecutor’s office? How’d you get to my place so fast? You’re in such a hurry to see me—what’s so important that I couldn’t even take Mei Mei home myself? It’s dangerous for a pregnant woman to go home alone…”

The old man in black rose slowly from the shadows, revealing the spring-like smile of Zhang Xiaoman. “Just went for a chat and some tea at the prosecutor’s office, didn’t take long. Of course I called you back because it’s important…” He paused, coughed, and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “Remember this address. Find an opportunity to take your two sworn brothers there…”

Yellow-Hair stared at the address with a strange expression, grinning. “That’s a high-end place! You’ll need to give me some cash up front—I’ve only got twenty left, and fifteen’s for buying a rattle drum. Don’t expect me to pay for your errands.”

“Buying a rattle drum? What for? Waste of money…” Zhang Xiaoman tilted his head and waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about money, everything’s arranged. Just take them there.” He handed over a black card. “Go straight to this room. You don’t need to worry about the rest.”

Yellow-Hair rubbed his hands, pocketing the black card with a sly grin. “So I can relax there a bit too? Perks of being your informant?”

“Of course you can,” Zhang Xiaoman replied, the corners of his lips curling into an enigmatic smile. “But anything extra is on your own tab.”

“The basic package is enough…” Yellow-Hair swallowed nervously, then suddenly remembered something, pulling out a wad of receipts from his wallet. “By the way, can you reimburse these? It’s all legit, dated after I started working for you—I’m not ripping you off.”

Zhang Xiaoman glanced at the receipts and snorted. “Well, well. Even street vendors issue invoices now? 128 for a few skewers?” He stuffed the receipts into his pocket. “Forget it. Get the job done, and forget a few petty expenses—your bonus will be enough for you to eat skewers every day.”

Yellow-Hair saw Zhang Xiaoman pocket the receipts without paying him, and pulled a long face. “At least give me something up front—half, maybe? I need the money urgently…”

“It’s not that I won’t, but there’s a process, you know?” Zhang Xiaoman coughed and lectured earnestly. “Besides, young people shouldn’t just focus on spending. You should be working on self-improvement. Obsessing over money is so vulgar…”

“Vulgar?” Yellow-Hair’s anger flared. “Zhang Xiaoman, do you know what a head of cabbage costs at the market? Six ninety! With no money, am I supposed to live on air? I haven’t eaten all day—not because I forgot, but because I’ve only got twenty left. Even a few steamed buns cost money, and if I eat, I won’t have enough to buy my godson a rattle drum!”

“Didn’t you still have a few red notes the other day?” Zhang Xiaoman pursed his lips. “You even gave me two hundred so generously…”

“I’ve been spending money chasing leads for you! People don’t care about relationships anymore—no one will talk unless you pay up… Zhang Xiaoman, times have changed. There’s no such thing as brotherhood on the streets anymore.”

Zhang Xiaoman sighed, pulling out two hundred yuan and handing it over. “Here’s the two hundred you gave me before—I’ve been holding onto it for you. Make it last a few days.”

“Do you have any more?” Yellow-Hair looked hopefully at the bills in his hand, his tone softening. “Think of it as a loan—I’ll pay you back when I get my bonus.”

“How much do you need?”

“At least twenty thousand…”

“What do you need that much for?”

“I want to give my godson a grand gift!” Yellow-Hair glanced around the room, his eyes tinged with reluctance. “He Wei and Han Mei are still squeezed in that tiny thirty-square-meter dorm, and now another baby’s on the way… Mei Mei mentioned at the hospital they don’t even have room for a crib.”

Zhang Xiaoman immediately understood, shocked. “That’s the only thing you own that’s worth anything—think carefully. There’s no turning back.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Yellow-Hair smiled. “It was never rightfully mine in the first place—my late father got it by cheating someone. If he hadn’t lied to you all for it, the bald guy from next door wouldn’t have run someone over after his wife died. It never belonged to me anyway… Besides, I’m on my own, used to drifting. It’s wasted on me.”

Zhang Xiaoman shook his head. “I have to advise you again—it’s not that I’m unwilling to front the fee… Yellow-Hair, someday you’ll want a family. Think about your future. Do you know how high housing prices are in City A?”

“Of course I do…” Yellow-Hair gave a bitter smile. “But someone like me doesn’t have a future. Honestly, after I got out of prison, I tried to go straight, get a real job, save up, get married… But, Zhang Xiaoman, the world can be so cruel…”

He buried his head between his shoulders, voice muffled. “I applied everywhere, but not even restaurants wanted me as a dishwasher, just because of my record. No one wants to hire a thief… Eventually I found a job delivering food, tried my best, but fate wouldn’t have it. Once, while delivering in a residential complex, someone stole the food from my delivery box. The customer called the police, learned about my past, immediately assumed I was the thief. I lost the money and the job…”

Zhang Xiaoman lowered his gaze. “Still, you shouldn’t have returned to your old ways. You could have started somewhere no one knows you…”

“Would that change anything?” Yellow-Hair’s smile disappeared. “People will always find out what I did. And what could I do in a strange place, anyway? I’m not like you—smart as a kid, successful as an adult. You knew my father; you know what he was like. I had to fend for myself from the start—have you ever fought a dog for a chicken leg? I have.”

Zhang Xiaoman pursed his lips. “You should have told me all this before…”

“What would that change?” Yellow-Hair laughed coldly. “Strangers at best might offer some pity, but who really cares about a thief? All these days we’ve spent together, I laugh every day—can you guess if I’m happy?”

Zhang Xiaoman exhaled slowly, took a bank card from his wallet, placed it silently on the coffee table, and walked out of the room without another word.