Chapter Eight: A Call from a Stranger

Qin Ruonan had only posed a casual question, yet Chai Xiu’s expression changed in an instant. The cheerful smile she wore was suddenly shadowed by sorrow, and Qin Ruonan thought she saw her eyes grow moist for a fleeting moment.

“I... I don’t have children,” Chai Xiu answered softly.

Qin Ruonan immediately felt a wave of embarrassment. She realized that she’d inadvertently touched a wound buried deep in Chai Xiu’s heart. Though she couldn’t guess the particulars, Chai Xiu’s demeanor made one thing clear: this graceful, gentle posture instructor was separated from the world of children by some unspeakable sorrow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Qin Ruonan looked at Chai Xiu with awkward concern, guilt rising in her chest. “Please don’t take it to heart.”

“It’s all right,” Chai Xiu quickly collected herself, offering Qin Ruonan a gentle smile. “I actually love children very much. Being able to teach them posture classes a few times a week makes me really happy.”

Qin Ruonan nodded in silence. She decided it would be best not to continue with this line of conversation. After all, they had only just met, and she regretted having so inadvertently pressed on Chai Xiu’s pain. To offer any words of consolation would only deepen the wound, given how little they truly knew each other.

Chai Xiu, too, fell silent. The two women sat quietly, each adrift in her own thoughts—Qin Ruonan still guilty, Chai Xiu now and then glancing at her phone.

After a while, the door to the coaches’ lounge opened. The young man named Zhang Lei entered first, his brow glistening with sweat. He no longer seemed as sullen as when they first met. Following close behind was An Changpu, also dripping with sweat, looking as though he had just finished an 800-meter run.

“Thank you for cooperating with our investigation!” An Changpu smiled and nodded at Zhang Lei.

Zhang Lei grinned sheepishly. “No need to thank me. I’ve got your number now, so when you have time, let’s spar a bit—you can help me hone my skills!”

“Given your height, you’ve already come a long way to reach this level,” An Changpu replied modestly. Noticing Qin Ruonan’s curious gaze, he made no immediate explanations, but instead beckoned her over. “Are you two about finished here? Let’s head back.”

It wasn’t only Qin Ruonan who was puzzled; Chai Xiu, too, seemed curious about the change in the men’s demeanor. But since Qin Ruonan, as a colleague, hadn’t pressed for details, Chai Xiu felt it would be even less appropriate for her to ask. The group left the lounge one after another. Zhang Lei said he needed to help his uncle with something and bade them farewell, leaving the other three to exit the fitness center together.

As soon as they stepped outside, Qin Ruonan was about to ask if Chai Xiu’s husband had come to pick her up, but Chai Xiu was already hurrying on small quick steps toward a man waiting beneath the glow of a streetlamp beside the entrance.

“My husband’s here. I’ll be off now—if you need anything, feel free to contact me!” Seeing her husband, Chai Xiu’s demeanor grew even more delicate and sweet. She waved at An Changpu and Qin Ruonan as she took her husband’s arm. Her husband, a slender, scholarly-looking man with glasses, smiled and nodded a greeting before the couple walked away together, hand in hand.

Watching their retreating figures, Qin Ruonan felt a pang of envy at the harmony they exuded. She quickly composed herself and followed An Changpu to the car.

“That’s all we can do for today,” An Changpu said. “Fang Da told me none of his friends or relatives has seen the child. Tomorrow, I plan to broaden the search to include shops and residences near the school and gym.”

Qin Ruonan raised no objections.

“It’s getting late,” An Changpu said, glancing at his watch. It was past eight o’clock; time had slipped away during their visit to the gym. “If you don’t have dinner plans, let’s grab a bite together.”

“No, you go on ahead. I want to get my hair cut before the shops close.” Qin Ruonan checked the time as well.

“All right. Where’s the salon? I’ll drop you off.”

“It’s near where I live, not far—I can walk. By the way,” she remembered her earlier curiosity, “what was with Zhang Lei? Why the sudden change in attitude?”

“Oh, him.” An Changpu couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s actually pretty simple at heart. It’s funny—when he was a boy, he dreamed of being a policeman and even took up martial arts after school. But his grades were poor, his college entrance scores were a disaster, and he couldn’t get into the police academy or any university. So his family sent him to a private fitness coach training school—after all, he was good at sports and had an uncle running a gym.”

“So he’s been frustrated all these years because he couldn’t fulfill his dream?”

“Frustrated, yes, but more than that, he feels it’s unfair. He thinks, except for his academic scores, no one can match him in skill. Just because of his low scores, he can’t become a policeman. So, when I asked him to cooperate with our investigation, he insisted on sparring with me first.”

Qin Ruonan was startled. “You really sparred with him?”

“If I hadn’t, would he have cooperated? We agreed to stop short of hurting each other, and there’s no way I’d lose to him, so I wasn’t worried,” An Changpu answered with confidence.

The results were clear without further questioning; Zhang Lei’s newfound warmth toward An Changpu spoke volumes. Stubborn though he might be, Zhang Lei seemed an honest soul.

“What about Fang Wan—what did he say?” Qin Ruonan asked.

“He confirmed that Fang Wan attended class that day. Zhang Lei said he’d had a fight with his girlfriend and was already in a bad mood. Fang Wan and a few other boys were acting up as usual. Normally, Zhang Lei couldn’t be bothered to deal with them, but that day, irritated, he scolded Fang Wan and two others, made them stay behind to clean up the badminton equipment, and they left later than the rest.”

“So as things stand, the last people to see Fang Wan were those two classmates and Zhang Lei himself,” Qin Ruonan observed.

An Changpu nodded. “That’s right. But Zhang Lei has an alibi for after class—he had private lessons and just gave me the names and contacts of his students. It won’t be hard to verify.”

Qin Ruonan asked nothing more. Fang Wan’s disappearance was a gaping question mark in her mind. She was far from seasoned, but both her common sense and intuition told her that cases like these—seemingly mundane, yet out of the ordinary—often concealed hidden dangers. If Fang Wan were older, perhaps things might be different; but for a ten-year-old child, with little money and no trace, to vanish as if into thin air—this could not be a simple runaway.

An Changpu dropped Qin Ruonan off near her residence and drove away. She hurried down a side street to the hair salon she had frequented ever since settling in this city.

By nature, Qin Ruonan was sentimental and grew attached easily; once she grew used to something or someone, she hated to change. So when she entered the salon, the girl at the cash register immediately called for her favorite stylist, Cui Lidong.

“Ruonan, you’re here!” Cui Lidong was cleaning his station and the floor, having just finished with another client. Seeing Qin Ruonan, he greeted her warmly.

Soon, Qin Ruonan’s hair was washed and she was seated before the mirror. Cui Lidong draped a cape around her and carefully tucked it in at her neck, then leaned on the chair and looked at her reflection. “Same as always?” he asked.

Qin Ruonan instinctively wanted to nod, but suddenly hesitated. She gazed at her reflection—her hair, grown shaggy from neglect, was now a bit messy, neither long nor short. Compared to the flowing locks of the other girls she saw everywhere, her own style was already quite androgynous.

“I think I’ll let it grow out. Just trim it a little, please.” The conversation from earlier in the evening floated into her mind, and she made up her mind in that moment.

Cui Lidong was surprised. He hadn’t known Qin Ruonan long—she had been coming here less than half a year—but this was the first time he’d heard her say she wanted to grow her hair.

He said nothing, but Qin Ruonan could read the surprise on his face. A faint, barely perceptible bitter smile crossed her lips. It was clear she needed to make some changes, or else everyone would keep labeling her a tomboy.

Cui Lidong began trimming her hair with swift, practiced movements, chatting idly as he worked. Soon, he had neatened the layers, preparing her hair to grow out as she wished.

“Ruonan, if you want to grow your hair, you’ll need to come in regularly for trims, or it’ll lose its shape and look messy,” he reminded her as he finished drying her hair.

The cashier, waiting to take payment, shot Cui Lidong a knowing look and stifled a laugh, but Qin Ruonan was still preoccupied with thoughts of Fang Wan and didn’t notice.

When she returned home, barely inside the door and before she could fix herself something to eat, her phone rang. The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.