Виноваты Инь и Ян

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Zhang Aimin was born in 1981, a year younger than me and Lai Bao. From the time he was born until he was 3 years old, Zhang Aimin never uttered a word, rarely cried, and couldn't even say "daddy" or "mommy." After Zhang Jun took Zhang Aimin to many hospitals for examinations, the answers he received were that Zhang Aimin lacked the learning abilities that ordinary children possess, meaning his learning ability was very poor, and his physical condition was also quite poor. He would even fall down most of the time when walking without the help of adults. It wasn't until he was 5 years old that Zhang Aimin began to call out "daddy."

When Zhang Jun got to this point, he smiled wryly and said, "The older generation always says that the first person a child calls out to is the one who will have a hard life. It seems that's true."

Because Zhang Aimin lagged behind other children in many aspects, Zhang Jun sent him to preschool early, before he even attended kindergarten. On his first day of preschool, Zhang Aimin stumbled home from the classroom and hid silently in the doghouse by his door. It wasn't until the school teacher came to their house that they found him fast asleep in the doghouse, locking the door and rushing out to look for him. Helpless, Zhang Jun had to ask his wife to accompany Zhang Aimin to school for half a month. While Zhang Aimin was in class, his mother would sit on a stool outside the classroom, peeking out from time to time to watch over him and let him see her so that he could concentrate on his studies.

At first, Zhang Aimin's learning ability was very poor. Compared with other children, in the words of their teacher at the time, "His intelligence is fine, but he seems to be unable to concentrate. It seems that nothing can arouse his interest."

Helpless, Zhang Jun had no choice but to ask the village's primary school teacher to come to his house to tutor him every day after Zhang Aimin returned home. At that time, Zhang Jun was a butcher, commonly known as a butcher, so his family was relatively well-off in the village. At that time, inviting a teacher to his house was simply a matter of preparing a meal for one more person. Sometimes, he would slaughter a pig and give the teacher a pig's head and cut off a few pig ears, etc.

This continued until Zhang Aimin was six years old. That same year, something happened that Zhang Jun found unforgettable. In Zhang Jun's village, there was a large persimmon tree. He didn't know when it had been there, but he said he'd seen it since he was a child. Generally, persimmon trees aren't too difficult to climb, but the one in Zhang Jun's village was very straight, and its trunk was much thinner than other persimmon trees, making it difficult to climb. None of the children Zhang Aimin's age in the village could climb it; only 15- or 16-year-olds could. One day, Zhang Jun was listening to the radio at home, engrossed in the broadcast, when he heard his uncle, who lived next door, rushing in and shouting, "Your child has climbed such a tall tree! It would be terrible if he fell!"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Jun ran out and followed the old man to the tree. He saw Zhang Aimin climbing to the top, grinning at him. A group of children about Zhang Aimin's age were clapping below, while a few children around ten years old stood at a distance. Zhang Jun thought, how could such young children have gotten Zhang Aimin up there? Zhang Aimin certainly couldn't have climbed that high on his own; it must have been the older children. So he scolded the children around ten years old, but they and the children below insisted that Zhang Aimin had climbed up by himself. Helpless, Zhang Jun climbed the tree himself and carried Zhang Aimin down. After landing, Zhang Jun asked Zhang Aimin how he got up there. Zhang Aimin turned around and pointed at one of the children around ten years old, laughing. Zhang Jun immediately got angry and rushed over to ask the child what happened. The child immediately cried, saying that Zhang Aimin had climbed up by himself, that he had climbed up the tree, and that Zhang Aimin had watched from below. After he came down, Zhang Aimin climbed up.

Zhang Jun certainly didn't believe it. Could a six-year-old child climb that high? Just as he was about to lash out again, he heard the group of children clapping behind him. He turned around and saw Zhang Aimin slowly climbing the tree once more. Zhang Jun was stunned. He tried to call Zhang Aimin down, but Zhang Aimin wouldn't listen and kept climbing upwards. Finally, he reached the top of the tree again, called out "Dad," and looked at Zhang Jun with a smile.

At this moment, the child that Zhang Aimin had just pointed out ran up to Zhang Jun and said, "I already said that he climbed up there by himself."

From that day on, Zhang Jun noticed that Zhang Aimin was acting strangely. Sometimes, Zhang Aimin's behavior was very similar to that of other children—no, exactly the same. Some children who came to Zhang Aimin's house would use their left hand to hold chopsticks while eating, and as they ate, Zhang Aimin switched to his left hand as well, using it smoothly and effortlessly. At the same time, Zhang Aimin's academic performance also improved by leaps and bounds, especially in Chinese. He could memorize almost any text that required memorization after reading it only once, and he could even recite some texts backwards. For a time, Zhang Aimin was hailed as a child prodigy by the villagers. At first, Zhang Jun's family was very happy, but gradually Zhang Jun realized that something was wrong…

Zhang Aimin's usual behavior was almost identical to everyone else's. For example, Zhang Jun would get up at 1 or 2 a.m. to slaughter a pig, and Zhang Aimin would usually get up at the same time. After getting up, Zhang Aimin would follow behind and imitate Zhang Jun's actions. Once, Zhang Aimin was slaughtering a pig with a knife. Just as he stabbed the pig in the neck, he heard a pig screaming in agony coming from the inner room. When Zhang Jun rushed over, he saw that Zhang Aimin had killed one of his piglets with a single blow, and the pig was covered in blood. What was even more unbelievable was that Zhang Aimin seemed to show no tension or fear at all, and was even smiling at Zhang Jun.

Zhang Jun was stunned. He quickly carried Zhang Aimin into the house to take a bath and change his clothes. He then scolded his wife, telling her not to take good care of the child. He then went back to the inner room to check on the pig. When he checked, he found that the cut Zhang Aimin made to the pig was very precise, not at all like the first time he had slaughtered a pig.

Zhang Jun sighed and said, "When I was learning to slaughter pigs, I don't know how long I studied, but my master never dared to let me make the first cut."

As Zhang Aimin grew up, troubles began to arise in Zhang Jun's family. For example, whenever a tractor passed by, Zhang Aimin would follow and run after the tractor until it stopped. Then, he would try to start the tractor with difficulty by taking the lever, just like the tractor driver. That's how a child who was considered a prodigy in the village from a young age became a child that everyone disliked.

In the end, Zhang Jun had no choice but to send Zhang Aimin to his relatives in City C. He spent a large sum of money to get Zhang Aimin enrolled in a school in City C. However, from that time on, Zhang Aimin began to have serious problems. Zhang Aimin's teacher called Zhang Jun to the school and told him that although Zhang Aimin's academic performance was not bad, he was behaving very strangely in some aspects, especially in his writing. At first glance, Zhang Aimin's essays seemed good, but upon closer inspection, it was discovered that the essays were not written by Zhang Aimin himself, but copied from other collections of excellent essays. The teacher even marveled at Zhang Aimin's extraordinary memory. He once compared Zhang Aimin's essay on his test paper with the one in the collection, and there was not a single mistake, not even a single punctuation mark.

Notes One: The Copying Chronicle, Chapter Five – Not the Ending

When Zhang Aimin was 19, a distant relative who studied medicine visited Zhang Jun during the Spring Festival. The relative noticed Zhang Aimin's unusual behavior and told Zhang Jun that it might be a mental illness, and that delaying treatment could lead to bigger problems. Zhang Jun asked the relative if there was any way to treat it and where. The relative said he had heard that foreign countries were good at treating such mental illnesses, but this was just hearsay. Zhang Jun had someone estimate the cost of sending Zhang Aimin abroad and found he was still short a large sum. So, he began taking risks and engaging in many illegal businesses, such as manufacturing gunpowder guns, water-injected pork, and fake duck and pig blood. Because Zhang Jun was intelligent and hardworking, he raised the money within a few years and sent Zhang Aimin abroad when he was 21, ostensibly to study. Before going abroad, Zhang Aimin's spoken foreign language skills were already quite excellent.

When Zhang Jun mentioned this, I thought, "Wasn't that something that happened last year?"

Chapter 5 of "Strange Tales of Tangdun"

Chapter 5 of "Strange Tales of Tangdun"

Author: Tang Xiaohao

Who knew that less than six months after sending Zhang Aimin to Australia, Zhang Aimin returned home alone, and the relative disappeared without a trace and could not be contacted. When asked, Zhang Aimin only said that the uncle told him to return to China on his own, and knew nothing else. Zhang Jun noticed that Zhang Aimin's tone and expression were very different when he answered his questions compared to when he left, so he didn't worry about it too much and focused all his attention on how to help Zhang Aimin find a job, or if Zhang Aimin wanted, to continue sending him to school.

However, Zhang Aimin expressed his desire to help Zhang Jun run a business at home. Zhang Jun was initially unwilling to drag Zhang Aimin into those illegal businesses, but he found that his fake pig blood and duck blood business had become exceptionally successful after Zhang Aimin took over, almost excessively so. He could make ten servings from one batch of ingredients. Zhang Jun asked Zhang Aimin several times what was going on, but Zhang Aimin just smiled and didn't answer. However, Zhang Aimin started to enjoy buying books and DVDs, bringing back a lot of things from the city almost every week. After finishing his chores at home, the only thing he did was read books and watch DVDs; he did nothing else. But Zhang Jun even heard Zhang Aimin talking in his sleep in the middle of the night, as if he was having a nightmare. He couldn't understand what he was saying, and it didn't seem to be Chinese.

At this point, Zhang Jun asked me for a cigarette. After he finished speaking, I looked at the policeman sitting next to me. The policeman was stunned and then nodded to me, agreeing to Zhang Jun's request. After I handed the cigarette to Zhang Jun, I heard the policeman say, "Go on."

Lai Bao, Zhang Jun, and I all turned to look at the policeman. Realizing he had been a bit out of line, the policeman coughed. After taking a drag on his cigarette, Zhang Jun said, "The next day was the day you came to raid my house. We were just getting ready to start. You know we always do this at night, it's shady. But... but I have to tell you, even though we sell fake pig's blood and duck's blood, they won't kill you, they're not harmful at all, because we eat them ourselves. You can ask my family if you don't believe me."

I thought of the dark figure on the wall that day, and I was now almost certain that it was Zhang Aimin. I told Zhang Jun my opinion, and Zhang Jun nodded and said, "Before you even shouted for the door to open, Zhang Jun had already started telling me to run. I didn't know what was going on, but I saw Zhang Jun start flipping through DVDs and watching them. I called him, but he didn't respond. Then he packed some things up, and then... and then..."

Zhang Jun remained silent for a long time after saying "then," so Lai Bao pressed him for an answer: "Then what happened?"

Zhang Jun took a deep breath and said, "Then he told us to run, and then he actually jumped onto the wall himself!"

Lai Bao and I were stunned for a moment. We recalled the wall, which was at least half as tall as an average person who is 1.75 meters tall. Zhang Aimin was able to jump up it in one go. At this moment, the policeman next to us sat down and asked Zhang Jun, "You jumped up like that?"

Zhang Jun nodded, and the policeman took a deep breath and muttered to himself, "Impossible!"

Lai Bao and I both knew that was impossible. Even high jumpers who break world records can't jump that high unless they use a pole vault, but Zhang Aimin climbed the wall empty-handed.

Zhang Jun continued, "You all know what happened next." After saying that, he buried his face in his arms on the table and cried, "What sins did I commit in my past life? What sins did I commit?"

Lai Bao and I didn't know anything else we needed to know. Zhang Jun had probably told us everything he needed to know, so we left the detention center. We didn't see Zhang Jun again for a while afterward because he didn't want to see us. The policeman who had listened to Zhang Jun talk about Zhang Aimin's past with us told us that Zhang Jun hadn't confessed to any other issues related to Zhang Aimin. He had just taken all the blame upon himself. When asked where the raw materials came from and how so much fake blood was made, Zhang Jun simply said two words: "blood powder."

Of course, Lai Bao and I knew very well that those weren't blood powder. We went to find Xiao Li again, and Xiao Li said that they had spent a long time testing them but still couldn't figure out what it was. They only knew that it wasn't very harmful to the human body. Zhang Aimin's case ultimately didn't become a case. After all, in this whole affair, Zhang Aimin was just a supporting character in the eyes of others in that fake blood production factory, an insignificant supporting character. Liu Gang's bag was found again. Although some money was missing, it wasn't much. Liu Gang adopted a "make a big deal out of a small deal" attitude and didn't pursue it further. Lai Bao and I knew that only by finding Zhang Aimin could we find out what really happened.

However, just as the verdict was finally reached on Zhang Jun's fake blood manufacturing factory, Lai Bao and I both received a greeting card at the same time. The card contained a lot of well wishes, and then at the bottom, two large characters read: "Thank you." The handwriting was mine, and the signature was Zhang Aimin. Lai Bao and I discussed it and decided not to investigate any further. After all, given our abilities, investigating this matter was simply too difficult, so we had to put it aside. But what we didn't understand was why Zhang Aimin would send us these two greeting cards, and what the point was.

Some time later, Lai Bao and I ran into the policeman named Liu Zhong again at a private party hosted by a friend. Liu Zhong talked to us about this matter again and told us that before Zhang Jun was officially imprisoned, he told him that Zhang Aimin sometimes suffered from intermittent amnesia. So he hoped that Liu Zhong could go to that village to see Zhang Aimin if he had time in the future. If he could see Zhang Aimin, he hoped that Zhang Aimin would come to see his father.

I asked Liu Zhong if he had gone there again, and he said he had gone several times but had never seen her. The house had long been occupied by Zhang Jun's uncle, who said that Zhang Jun's wife had given it up. But Zhang Jun's wife seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Based on what Liu Zhong said, I deduced that Zhang Aimin probably came back, took his mother away, and then they left City C together for other places. Maybe Zhang Aimin is still in China, or maybe he has gone to Australia. Zhang Aimin probably impersonated a reporter to see his father.

Oh, right, after Lai Bao and I met Zhang Jun, the police told us that according to their entry and exit records, Zhang Aimin had only returned to China a week ago. Lai Bao and I were shocked to hear this, because Zhang Jun said that Zhang Aimin had returned to China after being sent abroad for six months. How could he have only returned a week ago? But the police insisted that it was definitely correct and that the entry and exit records were absolutely accurate.

It seems this is yet another mystery… Is the answer to Zhang Jun or Zhang Aimin? Lai Bao and I have no idea. While I was reorganizing this notebook, Lai Bao told me he felt that Zhang Jun's relative—the one who brought Zhang Aimin to Australia—was definitely involved. The key is what happened to Zhang Aimin in Australia. If we knew what happened there, we would understand how all of this happened, how Zhang Aimin changed, and how he became like a normal person in some ways. Why did he buy so many books and DVDs? What was he trying to find, or was there some other reason?

After meeting Mi Dou, I learned that she was studying psychology and that she probably knew a little about it. So I asked Mi Dou if there was such a disease in psychopathology. Mi Dou told me and Lai Bao that there was, but it wasn't as exaggerated as it was. After all, some patients just imitate very simply and very poorly, unlike Zhang Aimin, who imitated perfectly and even better than the person he was imitating.

Zhang Aimin's matter came to an end. Lai Bao and I were both unwilling to give up, and we would never give up until we uncovered the truth. What we didn't expect was that a few years later, Zhang Aimin would mysteriously appear in front of us in another incident, causing us a lot of trouble. After learning about everything, Lai Bao and I knew what had happened. Of course, that's all in the future. According to the timeline of the notes, when the time comes, all the mysteries will be truly solved.

[over]

Notes 1: My Copying Notes

After Zhang Min disappeared, I verified his father's account of his childhood through various channels, and it was mostly true, without any exaggeration. After recording this, I listed out all the questions surrounding the incident, trying to find some answers from the clues I had gathered:

First point: Is Zhang Aimin Zhang Jun's biological son?

Regarding this, I have serious doubts. I consulted a doctor who said that from a genetic perspective, a person with unusual traits is very likely to have similar traits in their father, mother, or ancestors, perhaps not as pronounced as Zhang Aimin's. I've investigated Zhang Aimin's father, mother, and even his grandparents' generation; they were all ordinary farmers with nothing unusual about them. Of course, it's possible I just missed some information, but I still have my doubts. The reason is that when I later questioned Zhang Aimin's father, Zhang Jun, he just smiled bitterly and said nothing. When I asked him a second time, he immediately started cursing at me. If Zhang Aimin were truly his son, and if Zhang Aimin's disappearance was simply causing him distress, I think he would have been furious immediately, instead of giving me a bitter smile that seemed like a lingering recollection.

Second point: What special abilities does Zhang Aimin possess?

I believe it's imitation, or what I call copying. Judging from his behavior as a child, he never created anything of his own or did anything independently; instead, he always copied what others did, mimicking them exactly. Unlike most people, he copied them flawlessly, for example, his imitation of my handwriting. My bigger question is how he could forge press cards and similar items so quickly. While forging these things isn't difficult, it still takes time. His ability to do so in such a short time—was this all part of his plan?

Third point: Did Zhang Aimin really suffer from short-term amnesia?

Although Zhang Aimin's father, Zhang Jun, admitted this, and Zhang Aimin also showed this when he came to the newspaper office to see Lai Bao and me, I still cannot completely believe it. If Zhang Aimin really suffers from short-term memory loss, then I speculate that his ability to copy is also short-term, maybe one hour, maybe two hours? Maybe a little longer, but definitely not too long.

Fourth point: What happened to Zhang Aimin in Australia?

Chapter 6 of "Strange Tales of Tangdun"

Chapter 6 of "Strange Tales of Tangdun"

Author: Tang Xiaohao

There is absolutely no evidence to suggest what happened to him. I can only speculate that perhaps during his treatment in Australia, whether due to medication or something else, his abilities increased rapidly, but his short-term amnesia was not cured. I also have a bold theory: that Zhang Aimin's father's relative may have used Zhang Aimin as a test subject, a human guinea pig. It seems that to thoroughly investigate what happened to Zhang Aimin, we must find him himself, or find the person who took him to Australia.

Fifth point: What's the deal with that cow blood?

First, I ruled out blood meal. Even if it were blood meal, it couldn't be determined that it came from the same cow, and the sheer quantity was astonishing. When I asked Zhang Jun again, he only repeated the word "blood meal." Even after I asked several times, he just shook his head, saying he didn't know, and that everything was handled by his son, Zhang Aimin. Lai Bao had suggested that the cows might be cloned. I ruled that out, since no technical equipment was found in that underground factory, and cloning technology can't be achieved in a small workshop. This is another mystery, one that makes it impossible for me to speculate. I can't get the test results for the cow blood, and I think the cow blood might not be the main issue. The main issue is, who exactly is Zhang Aimin? I really don't want to call him a person.

Sixth point: Why did Zhang Aimin approach me and Lai Bao?

When I originally wrote this down in my notes, the rest of the page was blank. I think there's less than a 10% chance that he actually posted the missing person ad. As for the rest, I have no idea why.

Notes II: The Master Thief's Tale, Chapter 1: Masters Are Always Among the People

I often see some hilarious pictures online, such as someone falling asleep on a bicycle, someone using an empty beverage can as a stool, someone doing sit-ups with their feet hanging off the edge of a balcony, and someone even jumping onto a wall and walking diagonally for ten steps on the wall.

I think besides being funny, these things can be summed up in one sentence: true masters always come from the common people.

This phrase can be found in many classical novels and historical records from ancient times to the present. Some people can travel 300 miles in a day, some can hold their breath underwater for five to ten minutes, and some can steal things from you while keeping a one-meter distance away... Speaking of theft, the most famous figure in Chinese history is the legendary thief nicknamed "Swallow Li San." Legend has it that this thief could fly over rooftops and walk on walls. However, the main character in this story is not Li San, but another thief whose real skills I have personally witnessed, a "thief" whose "glorious deeds" are still fresh in the minds of the older generation of police officers in J City.

In the winter of 2003, before the Chinese New Year, as in previous years, the station would produce a program to warn citizens to guard against thieves and robbers during the Spring Festival. Such programs are generally produced in cooperation with the police department. They would dig out some common cases, and if possible, they would accompany the police to film and stake out locations, or extract some classic cases to reenact the cases, and find the parties involved, blur their faces, and then have them narrate their stories little by little in front of the camera.

Lai Bao and I had never done this kind of program before; we just thought it was novel because we always thought that covering police tracks was exciting and stimulating. We were determined not to miss this opportunity. But after a while, we gradually felt tired and discovered that police work wasn't as exciting as we had imagined. Instead, it was mostly stressful and tiring. We would often spend half a day or a whole day squatting at a street corner, a bus stop, or a vegetable market. It was enough to make you sick from boredom. When the police finally pointed out that they had spotted a thief, we would get excited. But the thief was caught by the victim as soon as he made a move. But the victim wasn't one to be trifled with either. He grabbed the thief and beat him severely. We and the police couldn't even squeeze in. By the time we dragged the thief out, he was half-dead. The first interrogation revealed that he was a first-time thief. During that period, we arrested quite a few young people who were committing crimes for the first time and didn't even have a criminal record.

After finally finishing the program, it was almost Chinese New Year. Since my family had just opened a new hot pot branch, we were short-staffed during the holiday and needed me to go back and help out for a few days. I noticed that things weren't too busy at the station, and based on last year's experience, they would probably add extra staff to the shifts during the Spring Festival. So I asked the director for a week's leave, and to my surprise, he readily agreed. However, I had to return to the station to report on the second day of the Lunar New Year.

My hometown is J City, a cultural city with some fame in the province. Because a great poet came from there during the Tang Dynasty, there are many scenic spots and historical sites around it. So later, the former residence of this famous person, and even the school where I studied as a child, were unearthed, restored, and turned into tourist attractions. As a result, the entire city of J has become a city mainly based on tourism.

After my father was demobilized from the army and returned to civilian life, he served as the head of a certain unit for a few years. However, he resigned after a short time and went into business. At that time, all the relatives in the family objected, but my father's reason was that he did not want to get involved in those so-called political struggles. He wanted to live a few more years so that he would be in a better mood when taking care of his grandchildren in the future.

Then my father started in the food industry, running a snack and hot pot business. In less than two years, the business grew bigger and bigger. The hot pot restaurant, even the newly opened one, had three branches. My mother also quit her civil service job and started to manage the family business with my father, but she absolutely refused to let me take over these things. She only said that I could come back to help out when I had time. My main job still had to be a stable job and income, because my experience and ability were not yet at the level where I could stand on my own.

When I got home, I realized that the newly opened restaurant wouldn't have needed me much, and my presence or absence wouldn't have made a difference. The restaurant mainly serves hot pot fish, and the fish are supplied by a local owner nicknamed "Old Wu the Fish." The fish are mostly not the kind fed with feed, so they taste exceptionally good. And Old Wu the Fish is the youngest millionaire in the area, not much older than me. (Hot pot restaurant)

My parents said they were too busy, but actually it was just that one of them was missing to accompany my father's former friends, colleagues, and subordinates who came to congratulate him in the evenings for drinks and meals. After I went back, my father repeatedly told me that in the catering business, it's not only about doing a good job, but also about relying on popularity and relationships. He told me to be patient with those people and not to leave before I've even settled in at the table.

So for the first two days after returning home, I basically spent my time immersed in alcohol. The biggest difference between me and Lai Bao was that Lai Bao loved alcohol, while I didn't. I got a headache just looking at alcohol. Although I knew that I could easily drink half a jin of baijiu at a time, probably due to genetics, I was still lacking compared to those so-called seasoned drinkers. For the first two days, I barely ate anything and drank a lot of alcohol. Every day, I either drank cup after cup of hot milk or took some inexplicable hangover cures.

By the third day, I couldn't take it anymore, so I called my cousin over to help me drink. After all, my cousin is now the head of a department in the government and has a good network of connections. Few of the people who came didn't know him. Moreover, he has been practicing his drinking capacity since college. Even if he doesn't drink here, he has to get drunk every day in other places.

With my cousin there to keep things in order, I felt much more relaxed. So I sat at the cashier, watching TV while listening to the shouts and commotion of the customers inside. By 8 p.m., the restaurant was packed, with some customers even waiting outside and coming in every now and then to ask when there would be a table. Just when I was busy with all the work, a beggar dressed in tattered clothes pushed open the door and started asking for money from the first table by the door.

Being a kind-hearted person, I quickly stopped the employee who was about to scold the beggar. I grabbed some change from the drawer and went over to give it to the beggar. Then I gave him some snacks. After taking the food, the beggar actually smiled at me, turned around and left without looking back. The way he walked was completely different from when he came in. At this moment, the employee next to me said to me, "Brother Dun, you're really generous, actually taking out a hundred-yuan bill to give to a beggar." I was shocked and quickly turned to the drawer. I found that when I collected the money, I hadn't had time to clean it up and had put a hundred-yuan bill in the drawer as well. When I grabbed it, I gave the rolled-up hundred-yuan bill and some other change to the beggar. I wanted to chase after him, but who would chase money back from a beggar? So I thought better of it and took out another hundred-yuan bill from my pocket and threw it into the drawer. If I didn't do this, those gossipy employees would definitely tell my mother when she came to inspect the shop before closing time, and I would definitely get a scolding that night.

Notes II: The Master Thief's Tale, Chapter Two: The Story Told by Uncle Nan

I had just sat down and lit a cigarette, still lamenting how clumsy I was at doing things, when my cousin's father-in-law, Uncle Nan, came over from the next table and sat down next to me, saying, "You got lucky just now, kid." I was puzzled as to why Uncle Nan would say that. Uncle Nan was a veteran police officer in J City, now retired, but he used to be a criminal investigator and was eventually transferred to the National Security Brigade. Almost everyone in J City, whether they were involved in the underworld or the legitimate world, knew him.

Seeing that I was still puzzled, Uncle Nan tossed me another cigarette and said, "Do you know what that beggar who just came in did?"

I said, "A beggar? Didn't you say you were a beggar?"

Uncle Nan smiled and said, "Have you ever seen a beggar with such fair skin?" I thought about it carefully, and it was true. Although the beggar's face was a mix of colors, his skin seemed to be relatively good. His tattered clothes didn't look like they were picked out of a trash can; they looked like they were deliberately made to look that way because they were so unnaturally tattered.

I nodded to Uncle Nan and said, "Now that you mention it, it's true." Uncle Nan smiled at me, turned around and picked up a pitcher of brewed beer from the table where he was sitting, put it on the table and said, "Have a drink with your Uncle Nan to warm up, it's so cold."

The moment I heard we were going to drink, my head started spinning. I'd only escaped a drinking party less than 24 hours ago, and you're dragging me back in? If I drank, all the other familiar guests would definitely try to get me to drink again. So I pulled Uncle Nan into the small storeroom next to the kitchen. Uncle Nan went in, took a look, and said, "This won't do. Aren't you going to go outside and watch the place?"

I shook my head and said, "No need, others will call me if anything happens."

Uncle Nan said, "No, I'm not talking about things inside the shop. I'm talking about what if something happens outside the shop?"

Chapter 7 of "Strange Tales of Tangdun"

Chapter 7 of "Strange Tales of Tangdun"

Author: Tang Xiaohao

I didn't understand what Uncle Nan was talking about, so I asked what was going on. Uncle Nan pulled me to the bar and we had a drink together before he said, "Nephew, it's the Spring Festival. Everyone has to celebrate the New Year, and that means spending money. No matter what you do, everyone wants to make some money to have a good New Year. Even real beggars and thieves pretending to be beggars do."

I was taken aback, wondering if the beggar who had just come in was a thief. Uncle Nan was a little drunk. Uncle Nan was a strange person. Although he couldn't hold his liquor very well, he liked to have a few drinks when he had nothing to do. Maybe it was because he hardly drank when he was working. I heard from my cousin's wife that Uncle Nan rarely spoke back then, especially when he was at home. He never talked about the cases he handled at work. He was very tight-lipped. After he retired, he only started talking more after having a few drinks.

Uncle Nan glanced outside the door and said, "That thief was actually one of the smarter ones. The thieves we usually know either operate in the market, the bus station, or at most, a shopping mall. While people are more vigilant during the New Year, the festive atmosphere makes them less alert. Also, it's easier to spot people with money at stations and shopping malls. Of course, these are just the most basic places for thieves. The one we just saw was a top-tier one. Who's least vigilant during the New Year? Of course, it's people who've been drinking." Many people, when drunk, don't even remember how much money they have on them. Even if they lose something, they won't realize it immediately. And if they pretend to be beggars and keep staring at people, no one will suspect anything; at most, they'll feel disgust. Plus, standing outside the hot pot restaurant—because most hot pot restaurants now have floor-to-ceiling windows—people can clearly see inside. Some people have their clothes hanging on chairs, their wallets half-exposed, or even their bags left outside. They pretend to be beggars, walk around the restaurant, choose a target, and only need to steal from one restaurant at a time.

At this point, Uncle Nan's interest was piqued, so I quickly poured him another glass of wine. Uncle Nan hurriedly covered the glass and said he wouldn't drink anymore, that a little wine was enough, and asked me to make him a cup of tea. I quickly took out a small packet of Zhuyeqing tea from my bag and brewed it for him. Uncle Nan lit a cigarette and said, "I knew you'd be interested in these things. Weren't you pestering me the other day to tell you about some old cases? There are some things I can't tell you, but I can tell you about a thief, a typical one."

Uncle Nan said that the thief was one of the bolder types. Generally, people who steal from hot pot restaurants like this will come in with someone else. That person is dressed in a rather sleazy way, so you can almost tell at a glance that something is wrong with them. They will try to move between tables, looking shifty and trying to draw everyone's attention to themselves. The beggar will always go first, followed by the thief, and they will always go in opposite directions. If someone loses something, their first reaction will be to look for this person, not the beggar. When the thief sees someone chasing after them, they will only run a few steps. If you catch them, you will find that they have nothing and don't even know what happened. Moreover, this kind of person definitely has a relatively stable job, so even if someone investigates thoroughly, they won't find anything.

I was somewhat surprised: "It's true that every profession can produce an expert; even stealing something can be done to this extent?"

Uncle Nan chuckled, glanced outside again, and pointed, saying, "Look, there's another beggar standing outside now, similar to the one from before. He's been sitting there looking for a trash can, but his eyes are always fixed on it. I know this kid, his name is Chen Siwa, he's a regular at this. He definitely won't come in if he sees me inside." Uncle Nan then turned around and chuckled at the beggar rummaging through the trash can. The beggar smiled back at Uncle Nan, then turned and left.

I said to Uncle Nan, "You know he's doing this, why haven't you arrested him?"

Uncle Nan said firstly, he had retired, and secondly, dealing with these kinds of people is pointless unless you catch them red-handed. Besides, there are plenty of plainclothes officers around during the Spring Festival, and some of these industry experts simply won't show up during this period. I asked Uncle Nan why those experts wouldn't come out. Uncle Nan said that big thieves wouldn't commit crimes during the most competitive and dangerous time.

Uncle Nan took a sip of his drink and began to recount the story of a "genius" in the thief's trade...

Back in the 1990s, Uncle Nan was the head of a police station, but not in J City. Instead, he was in a small town under J City. That town was originally the old site of J City. Later, because a large steel plant was built there, the entire J City was moved to its current location. Because of the steel plant, the town's population gradually increased, and it became even more prosperous than the new urban area of J City at that time.

When Uncle Nan was appointed as the director of that police station, he was temporarily transferred there. When he was transferred there, there were several relatively large cases piled up in the station, so it took him more than half a year to recover. He solved the cases that could be solved, and for the cases that could not be solved independently, he worked with the city officials to solve them. When they worked together to solve the cases, the burden on the station was much lighter.