“This is Qian Darong’s seat,” Director Huang said, his finger bent as his knuckle rapped heavily against the wooden desk in the third row.
Since classes were still going on in the afternoon, the students’ textbooks and stationery were left in the desks. Qian Darong’s desk was a mess. The partially open metal pencil box had split slightly, revealing a faded pink hair tie.
Jiang Ling noticed that the edge of the pencil box was carved with two crooked numbers: a “7” and a “9,” seemingly etched with a compass point. Blue ink residue lingered in the grooves.
The “7” was circled, and a big “X” was drawn over the “9.”
Thinking of the names Qi Qiao and Jiu Shan, Jiang Ling exchanged a glance with Li Zhenliang, and both put on white gloves.
Jiang Ling opened the pencil box and placed the pink hair tie in a prominent spot.
The most valuable equipment at Jinwu Road Police Station—the Seagull-brand camera—hung around Jiang Ling’s neck. She picked up the camera and began taking photos.
Li Zhenliang bent over, rummaging through the desk drawer.
He first pulled out two issues of Story Collection, then a handwritten notebook, opened it, and saw pages full of lewd writing. The handwriting was messy, as if a cat had clawed at it, and yellowed pages held a few curled hairs—it was nauseating to look at.
Jiang Ling kept her face cold as she photographed everything.
“Students today! Students today! Absolutely outrageous! Totally outrageous!” Director Huang fumed, his face red as he muttered over and over.
Li Zhenliang pulled out a metal candy tin.
It was round, with English writing and ornate decorations.
Opening the tin released a strange smell. Inside were several pairs of women’s underwear, some with white stains.
At the sight of this, Huang Qiming’s face turned bright red, and he looked away, unwilling to continue watching.
Jiang Ling held the tin up to the light streaming through the classroom window. A faint layer of fingerprints coated the edge, likely from repeated handling.
A boy this age collecting women’s underwear could indicate a compensatory psychological issue. According to the “fetishistic theft” theory in criminal psychology, a fifteen-year-old displaying such behavior often stems from emotional deprivation or rebellion against authority.
Qian Darong’s family was well-off, but with a father who had an affair and a mother addicted to mahjong, this family structure could easily foster an “overcompensation” mentality in a child.
Li Zhenliang pulled out a pile of filthy textbooks. Flipping open a math book at random, he found a female figure drawn in red pen on a blank page, with exaggerated breasts, hips, and other parts.
He could easily imagine Qian Darong drooling while drawing and shook his head, clicking his tongue: “This Qian Darong really is something else…”
After Li Zhenliang and Jiang Ling finished photographing and completing the evidence collection, Huang Qiming’s shoulders slumped, and he looked years older. “I’m sorry. It was our oversight as teachers. This Qian Darong… he’s truly outrageous.”
Li Zhenliang patted his shoulder and sighed: “Don’t blame yourself, Director Huang. This kid has already gone off track. We can only try to prevent further damage.”
Can it be prevented? In truth, Li Zhenliang wasn’t confident.
Jiang Ling had previously mentioned the 1989 case at the Shanghai Juvenile Detention Center, where a boy escalated from petty theft to voyeurism to sexual assault in just six months.
Qian Darong had already stolen women’s underwear and sexually harassed Liang Qiqiao—two critical steps. Whether he would take the third step was uncertain.
After completing the school investigation, Li Zhenliang and Jiang Ling said their goodbyes and left.
On the way back, Li Zhenliang asked softly, “Xiao Jiang, do you think Qian Darong can be reformed?”
Jiang Ling said nothing.
Li Zhenliang pressed on: “He’s only fifteen. He’s still moldable. Early guidance should help, right?”
Jiang Ling gave him a look, her eyes clear like cold water, yet carrying a chill.
Honestly, she had no good impression of the Qian family.
Qian Darong had assaulted Liang Qiqiao. Qian Jianshe had bribed her into a settlement. Zhao Yanhong spread rumors to ruin her reputation. Together, the family had pushed a young girl toward despair.
Was such a family worth saving?
Li Zhenliang was gentle-hearted and had been focused on reforming Qian Darong, but Jiang Ling’s look left him uneasy.
He glanced back at the school, where the slogan “Five Disciplines, Four Beauties, Three Loves” was clearly painted on the outer wall.
He sighed: “If school education could really instill discipline and morality in every student, how could someone like Qian Darong exist?”
A mental image of Liang Jiushan staring blankly under prison walls flashed through his mind. Jiang Ling said coldly: “Education is a torch that illuminates the folds of human nature. And some people… should be burned by that torch.”
The chill in her voice startled Li Zhenliang. Thinking of her past, he instinctively felt a trace of pity. “Um, Xiao Jiang… did something bad happen to you? You know, it might help to talk about it. Trust the power of the collective. Our station is rated the warmest team every year—everyone can help you.”
Jiang Ling couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the pity in his eyes.
In her previous life, she had been an orphan for over fifty years, used to walking alone. How had she never noticed how kind the officers at Jinwu Road Police Station were?
“I’m fine. What I mean is, reforming Qian Darong won’t work with gentle guidance alone—we’ll need some thunderous measures too.”
Li Zhenliang nodded repeatedly: “Yes, yes, exactly. That’s the way.”
…
September 12, Monday
Around noon, the family dormitory at the textile factory was filled with the aroma of food.
Jiang Ling and Li Zhenliang, in casual clothes, walked into a five-story, two-unit building at the east garden. The building housed factory leaders and senior experts. Its large apartments and prime location had earned it the nickname “Leader’s Building” among workers.
Qian Jianshe’s family lived on the third floor. Marble floors with inlaid patterns, a dazzling crystal chandelier, and redwood furniture throughout gave the home a luxurious appearance. Despite a mix of styles, it was clear much money had been spent.
Qian Jianshe and Zhao Yanhong received a call from the police station, notifying them that the officers would follow up at noon. Reluctant in their hearts, they put on forced smiles as they ushered Jiang Ling and Li Zhenliang into the living room.
Jiang Ling didn’t waste a word. She took out a stack of photos and began showing them to the couple, one by one.
A stationery box engraved with numbers; a brown headband, yellowed handwritten notebooks, a metal box containing women’s underwear, close-ups of fabric stained with semen…
The more Qian Jianshe and Zhao Yanhong looked, the more alarmed they became, their faces gradually paling.
Li Zhenliang tapped the photos laid out on the coffee table. “So, what do you think about these?”
The couple kept their heads down, staring at the floor, silent.
Li Zhenliang hadn’t expected such an attitude from them.
Seeing Qian Darong go astray—shouldn’t they be like Director Huang, filled with anger, shame, and guilt? Why were these two so indifferent?
After a long pause, Qian Jianshe mumbled, “What do we make of them? Of course, we’ll educate him properly.”
Li Zhenliang frowned and pressed, “The day before yesterday, you promised to educate Qian Darong properly. How’s that going?”
Mention of this clearly irritated Qian Jianshe. He usually just provided money and hardly managed the children, only stepping in when something happened. The day before yesterday, after returning from the police station, he had planned to teach his son a lesson with some force—but didn’t expect his tall, strong son to snatch the feather duster from his hands and break it in two, completely shattering his paternal authority.
He reached up and touched his thinning hair, sighing heavily. “Ah… sons aren’t always obedient to their fathers.”
At the station, Qian Darong had been fairly obedient, but at home, he had become like a little wolf, fierce and completely ignoring his father.
Zhao Yanhong’s cheeks were red and swollen, the corners of her mouth split, and the skin under her eyes was darkened, giving her a disheveled appearance. She tilted her head, eyes landing on the TV cabinet in the living room, and after a long pause said, “We’ve hit him, we’ve scolded him… there’s nothing we can do.”
Yesterday, when Qian Jianshe couldn’t control his son, he had vented all his anger on Zhao Yanhong, hitting and kicking her, leaving her still bearing the marks. Filled with resentment, she had no energy left to manage Qian Darong.
Li Zhenliang, frustrated that the couple had promised just two days ago but were now so helpless, urged, “If a child has problems, the root is in the family. You need to pay more attention, especially you as the father. You need to provide proper sexual education during puberty. Juvenile offenders, especially those who commit sex crimes, usually end up this way due to improper guidance.”
Qian Jianshe gave a bitter laugh. “Sex education? He probably knows more than I do…”
Zhao Yanhong spat on the floor. “All thanks to your bad example! You’ve had one mistress after another, never hiding from him.”
Qian Jianshe glared at her, his eyes reddened with anger. “Don’t blame me! You’re the one raising the child—look at how well that’s going. If I had known, I should have divorced you and sent you back to the countryside!”
Zhao Yanhong suddenly stood up, grabbed Qian Jianshe by the collar, and screamed hysterically, “Qian Jianshe, do you have any conscience? Do you even have a conscience! You’ve had mistress after mistress, never without a woman around, and now our son is copying you. It’s all because of you! If you dare divorce me, don’t blame me for going all out! All these years…”
Before she could finish, Qian Jianshe clamped a hand over her mouth, lowering his voice to warn, “The police are still in the house. Watch yourself!”
Her screaming was stifled; all she could make were muffled sounds. She struggled and nodded frantically, her eyes filled with pleading.
“Hmph.” Jiang Ling snorted coldly.
Memories of breaking out in a cold sweat under Jiang Ling’s questioning two days ago resurfaced, and at the sound of her voice, Qian Jianshe immediately released Zhao Yanhong.
What a waste of time! Jiang Ling put away the photos, stood up, and walked out without a word.
Li Zhenliang followed, looking at the couple with exasperation. “You two! Qian Darong is already stealing and developing fetishes, and as parents, you’re still bickering. I’m really at a loss. If he gets into serious trouble in the future, it’ll be too late for regret.”
…
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