A horizontal crack split the lower wall of the club, thin and long like a centipede, extending into the seam of the floor.

Xie Huai crouched by the wall, head in his hands.

Bored from waiting, he counted the jagged offshoots of the crack four times.

The sounds from the corridor filtered into his ears—a woman’s hoarse sobbing, a man’s gruff voice, mixed with the “swish-swish” of slippers dragging across the floor. Behind him came the noise of ransacked rooms—overturned drawers, lifted blankets, rummaged trash bins, checked IDs, and a girl’s heart-wrenching sobs.

Two police officers leaned against the wall chatting, keeping an eye on Xie Huai.

Xie Huai sat quietly without any suspicious movements, though his expression was complex.

—To say he was submitting to the law didn’t feel quite right; to say he wanted to resist, he didn’t quite dare.

The police officers’ gaze never left him as they chatted for about ten minutes, and Xie Huai understood what was happening.

The chaos before him was part of a large-scale, meticulously planned, and highly successful “anti-prostitution” operation. The city police had been planning and preparing since last month. Today was the day they closed the net, arresting over a hundred suspects.

Xie Huai’s legs grew numb from crouching. He glanced back and unexpectedly met eyes with the older police officer behind him.

Xie Huai’s pupils were pitch black and clearly defined, like pebbles submerged in rippling clear stream water—dark yet bright.

With the arrogance of youth, his voice carried the unique clarity of adolescence, with hints of defiance and rebelliousness: “What are you looking at?”

They stared at each other for a moment.

Three seconds later, the older officer kicked him in the backside: “What’s wrong with me looking?”

Crouching, Xie Huai lost his balance, stumbled, and his face scraped against the wall, covering it in white powder. He furrowed his brows, wanting to speak but ultimately held back. He grabbed a tablecloth from the TV cabinet nearby to wipe his face, then carelessly tossed it back.

“So young and already going astray.” The older officer handed Xie Huai’s ID to his colleague. “Look at this! Not even be legally an adult until next week, and already daring to come to places like this. Is this acceptable? Tell me, is this acceptable?!”

The older officer, filled with righteous indignation, berated Xie Huai as if scolding his son.

Xie Huai remained expressionless as spittle landed on his face, automatically tuning out the officer’s words.

However, while he could block out the old officer’s nagging, he couldn’t block out the sound from the other side.

—Sharp, piercing, hurting his eardrums.

He’d been tormented by this crying for nearly half an hour since entering.

He turned his head, quite impatient: “Look, can you stop crying?”

The men and women from other rooms had already been controlled and made to crouch in the hallway, but this room was different.

—Xie Huai crouched by the wall, and a girl sat on the bed.

Both were minors.

The girl kept crying.

A trainee officer offered her tissues and consoled her kindly, treating her completely differently from Xie Huai.

The young officer’s voice dripped with gentleness as if speaking to his sister: “Were you tricked here by that person in the corner? Did he cause those injuries? The police are here now, just tell us the truth. Don’t be afraid.”

Xie Huai: “…”

The girl wore a cartoon T-shirt, denim shorts, and white canvas shoes—dressed like a student.

Her skin was fair, and her black hair was tied back in a short ponytail with a ribbon. The ribbon was a light sky blue, hanging down to her shoulders with frayed edges, particularly eye-catching against her white T-shirt.

She had been crying since Xie Huai entered and was still crying when the police took him away.

Her crying was giving Xie Huai a headache.

But Xie Huai’s bad luck was partly his fault.

When the police burst through the door, he had been standing by the bed, one hand holding his wallet, the other tossing a crisp fifty-yuan note onto the bed.

His tone was imperious, his attitude contemptuous.

That spoiled young master air made people’s teeth itch just hearing it.

His voice was arrogant and unrestrained: “I gave you the money, alright? Stop crying, it’s not like I abused you.”

That fifty-yuan note spun lightly down onto the messy bed under the watchful eyes of four police officers.

Three seconds later, Xie Huai heard the experienced old officer from the city bureau make his decisive judgment.

“Prostitution.”

The old officer paused, his gaze passing over Xie Huai before pointing at the girl.

Half her face was swollen, her lips were bruised, and there were several blood-bruised scrapes on her collarbone.

Old officer: “Possible forced sexual relations. Take them to the station immediately.”

…

Just as Xie Huai was about to explain, he heard the club manager who had brought the police mutter:

“Only fifty yuan for a tip? That’s pretty cheap.”

Late August.

Xia Xia walked out of the train station and was dazzled by the bright sun of Nan City.

Located on a plateau, Nan City enjoyed spring-like weather year-round. Though it was the tail end of the scorching summer, the weather wasn’t hot. Cool particles floating in the air mixed with the lush greenery’s fragrance throughout the city, entering her nose—warm yet refreshing.

Xia Xia dragged her suitcase to the roadside, sat on it, and opened her phone’s map to check bus routes.

Nan University was in Changping District, far from downtown. It would take an hour and a half by bus from the train station.

An old lady in black embroidered clothes stood hunched by the road with a cylindrical charcoal grill. An iron grid covered the charcoal, densely packed with over a dozen peeled potatoes, already half-charred.

Seeing Xia Xia’s gaze, the old woman’s wrinkled face squeezed into a smile: “Want to buy some roasted potatoes?”

Xia Xia couldn’t understand her accent but got the general meaning. She nodded, pointing to the smallest potato. The old woman deftly wrapped the potato in a cloth, split it in half with a knife, sprinkled chili powder in the middle for filling, and handed it to her with a smile.

Xia Xia paid and stood lazily by the road eating the roasted potato. It wasn’t tasty, but it was cheap and filling.

She squinted her eyes, her pretty face bathed in the newborn morning sun.

Dewdrops hung on the plants in the flower bed, their fresh green full of summer’s vigorous vitality.

Xia Xia had delicate skin, and when illuminated by the brilliant light, she looked like a sweet white glaze—a touch of white on this summer day.

The sun felt just right when suddenly a No. 34 bus passed by. She quickly swallowed the last bite of potato and rushed to the bus stop dragging her two large suitcases. When Xia Xia got on, there were no seats left, so she found a spot by the window to stand and opened it for ventilation.

The bus was packed with people, mostly carrying luggage, without an inch of space. With so many people, the air became stale, and even with open windows, the high carbon dioxide levels wouldn’t dissipate quickly.

Xia Xia regretted eating that roasted potato earlier. As the bus jolted, she began feeling nauseous.

A man beside her had been watching her for a while. Seeing her condition, he took out a bottle of mineral water from his bag: “Have some water?”

Xia Xia looked up to see the face of a plain-looking middle-aged man.

—Slightly chubby, greasy, with thick lips. He had wedged half his leg between her two suitcases, wearing what appeared to be an honest smile.

Xia Xia ignored him. The man took the snub without offense.

His broad back blocked her from the view of others behind him.

The bus hit a speed bump and shook violently. The middle-aged man stumbled forward, moving past the suitcases to Xia Xia’s side.

Xia Xia had been resting with her eyes closed, and her brows furrowed slightly feeling someone squeeze closer.

The next second, a damp, thick palm gently pressed against her thigh, feeling wet and sticky.

Xia Xia couldn’t help but twitch her mouth. She pretended to sleep with her head against the window, though her eyelashes kept fluttering. Being unfamiliar with the place, she planned to endure it, but that hand wouldn’t behave. Seeing no resistance, it began rubbing up and down her leg.

Xia Xia couldn’t take it anymore. She opened her eyes and called out in a clear voice that drew everyone’s attention:

“Uncle, could you please stop groping me?”

The man quickly withdrew his hand.

He had noticed when boarding—the young girl was fair and clean-looking, traveling alone from the train station direction with two suitcases and no companions, making her an easy target. Moreover, girls with such looks usually had mild tempers and were timid, unlikely to make a fuss when wronged alone, at most suffering in silence.

But unexpectedly, this girl was so bold, directly raising her voice without hesitation.

He laughed awkwardly, thick-skinned as he explained to those around: “We know each other, we know each other.”

This trick worked every time. Chinese people typically liked watching drama but not getting involved in others’ affairs, especially family matters—even an upright official would find them hard to judge, let alone strangers.

The man pointed at Xia Xia’s suitcases: “Taking the kid to school, she’s just throwing a tantrum.”

As he spoke, he observed Xia Xia.

Having done this many times, he had some tricks up his sleeve. Even if she denied it now, he had other ways to explain it away.

But Xia Xia had no intention of exposing him.

She pressed her forehead against the window, looking world-weary, her nose wrinkled and features scrunched together like a wronged child.

The man was delighted, thinking the young girl was too frightened to resist.

Xia Xia hadn’t thought that far ahead—she was just car sick.

—Half an hour into the ride, that potato in her stomach was restless, constantly trying to surge upward. Each time it neared her throat, she forcefully pushed it back down.

She had no plastic bag, and throwing up on the floor would affect other passengers. But getting off to vomit would be troublesome with two suitcases, not to mention the leering pervert beside her—it would be bad if he followed her with ill intentions.

Though uncomfortable, she could barely manage until getting off to vomit.

The bus stopped and started on its way to Changping District.

Xia Xia tried to move as little as possible, treating the man’s harassment like buzzing flies, afraid of throwing up on the bus and troubling others.

The man stayed quiet for less than fifteen minutes before his hands grew restless again, reaching for Xia Xia’s waist.

Xia Xia remained silent, allowing him to take liberties, her delicate pretty face making her appear weak and vulnerable.

The man grew increasingly bold.

Suddenly, the bus slammed on its brakes, and Xia Xia lost her balance, falling into his arms.

The girl’s voice was soft and thin like a mosquito’s buzz: “I’m carsick.”

Her soft hair tickled under his nose, the sweet scent of Bee & Flower shampoo and children’s Yu Mei Jing lotion entering his nostrils, sending an inexplicable thrill through his body. He instinctively held the girl.

The man licked his lips, his thick white-coated tongue moving as his voice trembled with excitement: “Then… then have some water to feel better?”

He lowered his head to search for water in his messenger bag. Just as he found the bottle, his collar was suddenly grabbed.

He looked up to see the girl’s sweet smile as her fingers pulled down on his collar.

The man didn’t react immediately. Blinded by lust, he obligingly lowered his head a bit.

The girl’s mouth came closer, but before he could react, she pulled his collar to its widest and “Wah!”—vomited a whole mess inside his clothes.

His shirt was tucked into his pants, so not a drop escaped, all of it pooling between his belly and T-shirt.

The man: “…”

Having finally released what she’d been holding back the whole way, Xia Xia felt better.

She took out her water bottle to rinse her mouth, and sincerely apologized to him: “Sorry, Dad.”

The man: “……”

His teeth ground audibly: “Who’s your dad?”

As soon as he spoke, his face flushed, feeling the gazes of passengers from all directions.

—”We know each other, we know each other.”

—”Taking the kid to school, she’s just throwing a tantrum.”

The bus stopped at a station.

He couldn’t take it anymore. With a dark expression, he pushed through the crowd toward the back door.

Xia Xia could be both yielding and unyielding. She called out “Dad” more enthusiastically than if he were her real father:

“Dad, where are you going? Dad—”

The man stood by the roadside, shaking the sticky mess out of his clothes, nearly fainting from the smell of vomit.

The sun was dazzling. The bus slowly moved forward, its grey shell reflecting the brilliant sunlight.

The girl stuck half her face out the window, pure and innocent with great deceptiveness.

As if possessed by a drama queen, she called out with great emotion:

“Dad, are you abandoning your daughter? Dad, come back, Dad, Dad————”