Chapter Forty-Five: Stifled

Bai Mengqing did not fully regain consciousness until noon the next day. She seemed unaware that the perpetrator might have been targeting her specifically; she simply believed herself to be terribly unlucky, while also feeling relieved that no one else had been hurt.

Her parents did not discuss the matter of the perpetrator with her; they only urged her to focus on recovering and told her that they had already arranged a leave of absence with the school. She would return home early to recuperate, and as for the final exams, she could make them up after the new term began.

Before Bai Mengqing was transferred to another hospital, Chen Xin visited her once. They didn’t discuss anything else, just talked about how to manage her studies going forward. Their major didn’t require much theoretical knowledge; practical application and vocabulary were what mattered most. Most students aimed to boost their competitiveness by taking a second foreign language, and Bai Mengqing was no exception. Before her accident, she had already enrolled in a prep course for a second foreign language, planning to take proficiency tests during her junior year, so that by the time she graduated, she would have all the necessary certificates. Whether she chose to pursue further studies or seek employment, she would have an edge over those without such qualifications.

Bai Mengqing had no worries about finding a job, but she didn’t want to lag behind others either. So, without employment pressure, her choices were mostly a matter of personal preference. Though the accident was unfortunate, she could still use her time bedridden to study her second foreign language on her own.

After Bai Mengqing had left, Chen Xin began to inquire about the inside story. She soon heard that Mao Xiaohong was in a deadlock with the university administration.

“After Xiao Bai’s accident, Mao Xiaohong immediately helped to gather information about the perpetrator, and it was he who collected evidence. But then a teacher approached him and told him not to meddle, saying that if it hadn’t been for him, none of this would have happened.”

The person sharing this information with Chen Xin was a member of the student union—well-informed and usually very discreet. If not for the fact that he couldn’t bear to let this matter slide, and that Chen Xin was one of those involved, he wouldn’t have said a word.

“I heard people say it was one of Zeng Zeng’s admirers who did it—a thug who collects debts for a living, feared by many who owe money. He’s ruthless, but he also has powerful connections, or he couldn’t do what he does. He refuses to admit that he targeted Xiao Bai on purpose, claiming it was just an accident, that he hit the wrong pedal. At most, he can be charged with hit-and-run. Xiao Bai’s parents have some connections, but when it comes to dealing with these thugs, they’re at their wits’ end. In the end, they settled privately, paid some compensation, and that was it.”

The student told Chen Xin all this partly to dissuade her from delving any further—best to let the matter end here. The perpetrator hadn’t killed Xiao Bai, but who’s to say he wouldn’t come after Chen Xin next?

“Maozi is upset that the school refused to help, but the administration feels it was Maozi’s fault for violating school rules by dating, which is what led to all this. I heard from the older students that they almost punished Maozi over this, but in the end, the department chair stood up for him and refused to let it happen. That’s how it ended.”

Chen Xin let out a long breath, feeling stifled and helpless. In this situation, they were the weak ones. Things were different now than they might be ten years in the future, once the laws and regulations would be more robust and, if all else failed, public opinion online could hold the justice system accountable. At this time, the norm was always to minimize and hush up any incident—the school had all the power.

Heeding her classmate’s advice, Chen Xin did not pursue the matter further, but she made a silent vow to herself that, if ever the chance arose, she would see this debt repaid.

Chen Xin wasn’t afraid of trouble coming her way. When she opened her shop, she’d made sure to invite some well-connected people to dine there. As long as she wasn’t at fault, those people wouldn’t let a thug cause trouble on her turf. Still, it was best to be cautious. After some thought, she called Cheng Jie to discuss the situation, then went to the military district to seek help.

Of course, she didn’t say outright that someone disliked her and might cause trouble. Instead, she found Zhou Hao and tactfully mentioned that the Zeng Zeng incident might not be over, and that while Xiao Bai was out of danger, her injury was suspicious. She herself was not afraid, but she worried the other side might target Zhang Zhang instead.

After hearing her out, Zhou Hao told Chen Xin that he’d take care of it, and gave her a phone number—his childhood friend’s contact. If any thugs showed up, she could just call him.

“Is your friend really that capable? Maybe we should meet first. If something does happen and I suddenly have to call him for help, I’d feel a bit awkward just asking out of the blue.”

Chen Xin was no stickler for old-fashioned ways. She knew society would inevitably become more about personal connections, and having them to rely on was far better than needing them and having none. Whether you use them is one thing; whether you have them is another. People might help you once, but if you brazenly take advantage as if it’s your due, there probably won’t be a second time.

Zhou Hao understood her thinking and suggested he bring his friend to her shop that weekend so they could have a meal together and get acquainted.

That suited her just fine—it’s always better to be familiar. And if Zhou Hao was right about his friend’s reputation on the street, then anyone else seeing them dining and chatting together would think twice before making a move against her.

Around five o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Zhou Hao arrived at the café with a man who had a baby face.

The man was half a head shorter than Zhou Hao and very thin, but looked younger, with features that seemed to smile naturally. At first glance, he didn’t look at all like the fearsome figure Zhou Hao had described.

“Chen Xin, let me introduce you—this is my childhood friend, Yi Bai. He works with the city bureau’s criminal investigation team. If you need anything, just contact him.”

Zhou Hao had already briefed Yi Bai about Bai Mengqing and Zeng Zeng. Yi Bai had looked into it and knew there was more to the accident than met the eye, but since Bai Mengqing’s parents had agreed to a private settlement and the perpetrator insisted it was an accident, there was nothing they could do, even with their suspicions. Still, it was understandable that Chen Xin worried the trouble might come her way. Yi Bai had a natural sense of justice, and as a detective, he couldn’t just ignore such things.

“I talked it over with Zhou—maybe we can coordinate with the military district and get you recognized as an outstanding supporter of the military. If you hang that plaque in your shop, it might be enough to deter any would-be troublemakers. If anyone else causes problems, just call me. As long as you’re not breaking the law, the police will have your back.”

Yi Bai did not make any promises he couldn’t keep. Although he’d learned some things about Chen Xin from Zhou Hao, he still needed to get to know her better before making any judgments. After all, for a young woman of eighteen or nineteen, already raising a child, buying property, and running a shop in such a short time—her abilities were almost alarmingly strong.

Reasonable suspicion was simply part of his duty as a police officer.