Shen Xiaomei was a person who had once given the female prison guards quite a headache.
When she entered prison, she was young—only 21—but her mental state was poor. She was easily angered and prone to violent outbursts. The sound of metal clanging would make her kick at the iron bars of the cell. Whenever the word “bell” came up in conversation, she would bite her lips until they bled. She frequently woke in the night, her emotions extremely unstable.
Prison officers had to be very careful when talking with her, avoiding sensitive topics; otherwise, she would leap up recklessly, tearing and biting at the guards.
Her progress in labor reform was poor. Generally, less than three months after release, she would return to prison for theft. Facing judges and police, she showed no fear at all, replying flippantly, “If I don’t steal, how do I survive?”
Jiang Ling, as the archivist in charge of criminal records, had read the psychological evaluation report the prison officers had made on her. The conclusions were:
Mental disorders: Post-traumatic stress disorder; paranoid personality disorder.
Risk assessment: Recidivism risk index 92%; violent tendencies highly triggered by situational factors.
Reform difficulties: Her obsessive worship of “Xiaoyue” formed a closed cognitive system.
However, Shen Xiaomei never clarified Xiaoyue’s full name or where she lived. Still, whenever she mentioned Xiaoyue, her eyes shone with admiration and joy. She said Xiaoyue wore white clothes that seemed to float like a fairy, always clean as snow.
Xiaoyue, she said, was like Guanyin Bodhisattva: she never despised Shen Xiaomei’s dirtiness, gave her a name, prepared food for her, taught her to read, and told her bedtime stories.
Among the personal items collected from Shen Xiaomei when she entered prison was a brass bicycle bell, topped with a raised phoenix relief as a brand emblem, the side cast with the pinyin “FENGHUANG,” and the bottom engraved with a single word: “dirty.” When asked by prison guards, Shen Xiaomei said the bell was a treasure left by Xiaoyue and must not be lost.
Now, a case of stolen bicycle bells had appeared at Jinwu Road Police Station—could it be related to Shen Xiaomei?
Thinking this, Jiang Ling followed her colleagues from the case team and walked slowly into the police hall.
Seeing her, Li Zhenliang said with concern, “Why are you here? Didn’t Director Yao just say you only need to focus on the publicity booklet from now on?”
“I want to take a look.”
Li Zhenliang didn’t mind: “Alright, if you want to participate, you’re welcome.”
In the police hall, a middle-aged woman was wiping sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief. Her bicycle leaned at the entrance, the handlebars now bare, with only the screw holes remaining.
“Officer, this was the original bell! Brass! Replacing it with the same one cost me 15 yuan!” Her voice trembled with tears. “Who’s the bastard that would even steal a bell?”
Li Zhenliang crouched to inspect the handlebars. Fresh scratches marked the metal surface.
“This thief is experienced. I remember last year’s case had a dozen scratches, some deep, some shallow. This time there are fewer scratches, and they’re much shallower,” he muttered, pulling a notebook from his pocket. A popular sticker of a Hong Kong/Taiwanese celebrity adorned the cover.
Noticing Jiang Ling’s gaze, Li Zhenliang raised the notebook and pointed at the sticker, smiling: “Weng Meiling, my daughter’s idol. You like her?”
Jiang Ling waved her hand: “No.”
Li Zhenliang, a chatterbox, launched into a story about his daughter: “She’s only seven, already chasing idols, bought a bunch of Weng Meiling stickers, sticks them everywhere, hehe.”
He dug into his wallet and proudly pointed to a photo tucked inside: “What do you think? Cute, right? Does she look like me?”
Jiang Ling’s eyes fell on the small color photo. The little girl wore a white puffed dress, a tiny pearl crown on her head, round rosy cheeks, sparkling big eyes—a delicate little princess.
Meiling—what a good name.
Jiang Ling remembered that Shen Xiaomei had once caught a prisoner in the cafeteria and beaten them mercilessly, for a bizarre reason:
“Why Meiling? Why are you using this character ‘Ling’? Every time I hear a bell ring, my head hurts. I’ll beat you to death, you wretch!” Jiang Ling still remembered the insane light in her eyes, like two clusters of phosphorus burning in the dark.
The middle-aged woman reporting the theft continued talking as she sat: “This was a Phoenix-brand bell, brass, chrome-plated, very expensive. Damn it! Officers, you must catch this little thief and make them pay!”
Liu Haoran diligently recorded the report, while Zhou Wei photographed the handlebars to document the theft.
Li Zhenliang gently reassured the complainant: “Comrade Wang Cuimin, we’ve taken your report and will investigate thoroughly. But you know, bicycle bells are small and low-value accessories, so gathering evidence is difficult. Don’t worry—the director said all public matters, big or small, will be taken seriously. We’ll interview around and aim to solve the case quickly.”
Wang Cuimin, seeing their attitude, felt relieved: “Alright, I have to go home and cook. I’ll leave now. If you find anything, be sure to inform me.”
Liu Haoran organized the report, and Zhou Wei smiled: “Don’t worry, we will notify you if there’s news.”
After Wang Cuimin left, Liu Haoran sighed and marked the report with his pen: “Since last year, this is already the 12th similar case.”
Zhou Wei also sighed: “Yeah… who would steal bicycle bells?”
Li Zhenliang suggested: “Check with the bike repair vendors—maybe it’s them.”
Liu Haoran shook his head: “We’ve visited nearby repair stalls, found nothing unusual. Even though replacing a steel bell costs only 2.5 yuan, it’s still money.”
Zhou Wei was more observant: “Not steel. All 12 thefts involved Phoenix-brand original brass bells, much more expensive than ordinary ones.”
Liu Haoran remembered: “Oh, right, all brass, 15 yuan each. This thief has an eye for quality, always goes for the expensive ones.”
Li Zhenliang spoke again: “Could it be kids playing around, attracted by the bell’s look?”
Zhou Wei raised his hand: “Possible. If it were a professional thief, why bother with a bell? Better to steal the whole bike—less noise, sell for hundreds, more cost-effective.”
Liu Haoran agreed: “Yeah, we also think it’s kids causing trouble, taking the bells for fun.”
Li Zhenliang asked: “Have you checked scrap dealers? Maybe kids sell the bells as scrap for candy.”
Zhou Wei shook his head: “We’ve checked several large scrap stores nearby—no luck. If it’s a private deal, there are many collectors roaming the streets, and they’d never admit to taking a new bell. Asking wouldn’t help.”
Nothing seems to work. Solving this case feels tough.
Li Zhenliang sighed: “Even if they’re kids, we need to find them and teach them properly. As the saying goes, ‘steal a needle when young, steal gold when older.’ Early education can prevent them from going astray.”
Jiang Ling thought to herself:
Shen Xiaomei entered prison in 2003 at 21. Now it’s 1993. She would have been 11—a child, right? Could she be the one stealing the bells?
Jiang Ling closed her eyes, trying to recall Shen Xiaomei’s personal information from the criminal record:
Date of birth: 1987 (estimated, household registration missing)
Education: Illiterate (can recognize simple characters)
Place of origin: Unknown, Xiangxi accent
Family background: Abandoned as a child; in 1998 taken in by a wandering girl named Xiaoyue
Physical characteristics: Missing right ear, burn scar on left shoulder, right hand disabled with only three fingers remaining, height 152 cm, weight 42 kg.
Jiang Ling remembered that, at the time, she had added a note at the end of the file: “This offender’s obsession with bells far exceeds ordinary theft. Recommend checking missing children records in Xiang Province from 1980–1993, with particular attention to girls with a missing right ear.”
The file did not record Shen Xiaomei living in Yan City. She claimed to have wandered from place to place, only settling in the provincial capital after meeting Xiaoyue.
It was unknown whether the 11-year-old now was living in Yan City.
If it was her, why was she wandering around?
If she could be found, perhaps it would be possible to save a girl who had repeatedly ended up in prison for theft.
While Jiang Ling was deep in thought, Liu Haoran and Zhou Wei had already stood up. “Since someone reported it, we should go check the scene,” Liu Haoran said.
Jiang Ling handed the unfinished promotional booklet to Wei Changfeng. “Old Wei, keep this for me. I’ll go take a look too.”
Wei Changfeng took the booklet and glanced at Li Zhenliang.
Li Zhenliang immediately understood. He tapped his right heel against his left foot and snapped to attention with a salute. “Yes! I’ll go with Xiao Jiang and ensure the task is completed.”
Wei Changfeng lightly tapped the booklet against Li Zhenliang’s forehead, laughing as he scolded him: “Behave yourself, don’t clown around.”
Liu Haoran covered his mouth to stifle a laugh and walked out with Zhou Wei. The two were usually assigned fieldwork together and were inseparable, like brothers.
Li Zhenliang signaled for Jiang Ling to follow.
They had been paired for fieldwork for three months, gradually developing a tacit understanding. Jiang Ling gave a soft “Mm” and walked shoulder to shoulder with Li Zhenliang.
They rode the bicycles issued by their unit, heading together to the South Street Market, the scene of the incident.
Winter sunlight streamed through gaps in the buildings, falling on the four of them.
The case was minor; everyone thought it was just children playing tricks, so there was no heavy feeling, and they chatted and laughed all the way.
“They only stole Phoenix-brand bicycle bells. Strange.”
“Probably because they’re expensive. Copper is worth more than iron, so even selling scrap would get a better price.”
“If it’s a kid, maybe it’s because they sound nice? Phoenix’s original bells have a dual-chamber copper design, making the sound clearer and more lasting than ordinary bells.”
“I really don’t know which naughty kid insists on stealing bells. If I catch them, I’ll make sure to teach them a proper lesson.”
At the word “teach,” Zhou Wei asked Li Zhenliang: “Hey, Daliang, you’re a father too. If… I mean, if your Yanyan made this kind of mistake, how would you handle it?”
Li Zhenliang glared at him. “My Yanyan is very well-behaved; she wouldn’t steal. Hmph! If she dared to do this, I’d definitely spank her hard.”
Seeing the plump little cutie in the photo, Jiang Ling’s heart softened, and she couldn’t help advising: “She’s only seven. You still need to reason with her—don’t hit her.”
In her previous life, she had never married or had children and had always felt it was a regret.
God knows how much she wanted a daughter—soft, cute, held in her arms, smiling at her, trusting her unconditionally, relying on her unconditionally. If she had a daughter, she would never let anyone hurt her even a little.
…
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