You're just a locksmith! What are you doing catching swindlers at the start?

But he saw two people in the car.

He didn't pay attention.

He lowered his head, took his phone out of his pocket, and glanced at the screen.

After he finished reading, he put his phone back in his pocket.

Turn the handlebars of the electric vehicle.

They rode slowly and leisurely this way.

The chat instantly tensed up.

"Here it comes, here it comes, here it comes!"

"It's him."

"A tan-colored lock, and there's another one in the bike basket."

He's here to collect debts.

He didn't know the car he locked was still in the same spot.

He didn't even know who was in the car.

Old Zhou took his hands off the steering wheel.

He reached out and unbuckled his seatbelt.

The seatbelt slowly retracted, making a slight mechanical sound.

He didn't rush to get off the bus.

He watched the electric scooter getting closer and closer in the rearview mirror.

Dark blue cotton-padded jacket, khaki lock, and a ruddy red face.

The electric scooter rode up next to the car.

The man braced one foot on the ground to bring the electric scooter to a safe stop.

He bent down and looked at the tires.

Only a yellowish-brown mark remained on the tire; the lock was gone.

He frowned slightly.

Then he straightened up and reached out to knock on the driver's side window.

The knuckles tapped on the glass, making a clicking sound.

Old Zhou rolled down the car window.

The man's face appeared outside the car window; it was dark red, with a sparse beard and chapped, dry lips.

His gaze lingered briefly on Lin Zhou's camera.

Then move it back to Lao Zhou's face.

"Where's the lock?"

His voice was exactly the same as it was on the phone, with a hoarse quality.

"Where's my lock?"

Old Zhou looked at him.

"What lock?"

"The yellow lock. The one used to lock this car."

The man looked down at the tire again and pointed to the yellowish-brown mark.

"I locked it here. Where's the lock?"

Old Zhou didn't say anything.

He reached over to the passenger side and opened the glove compartment. Inside, everything was neatly arranged—a vehicle registration certificate, a driver's license, a spare enamel mug lid, and a pack of tissues. He rummaged through them and pulled out the tan-colored crab lock.

The lock was open, the bolt sticking out like a crab with its mouth pried open. He held the lock up to the car window.

"this?"

The man's expression changed.

He looked at the lock that had been knocked open.

The QR code sealed on the lock body is still there, as is the handwritten number, but the lock is open.

There was a new mark on the cast iron lock, made by a hammer.

"Did you open it?"

His voice rose, carrying an air of disbelief.

"How did you open it?"

Old Zhou placed the lock on the dial.

The lock body made a dull thud when it came into contact with the plastic panel.

Then he took out his identification from his pocket.

The black leather wallet was open, and the police badge gleamed in the sunlight.

"I am a police officer."

The man leaned back slightly.

The handlebars of the electric scooter tilted slightly.

He quickly braced himself with his feet.

On his ruddy face, the expression shifted from disbelief to something more complex.

It wasn't fear, but a sense of bewilderment.

No one would have expected that police would be parked at the entrance of the clubhouse.

"You just said on the phone,"

Old Zhou closed the document and put it back in his pocket.

"You want to report me for soliciting prostitution."

The man's lips moved.

The dry, chapped lower lip separates from the upper lip, then closes again.

The handlebars of the electric scooter swayed slightly in his hands.

"You locked my car, demanded 500 yuan from me, and even said you would report me for soliciting prostitution."

Old Zhou's tone was very flat, like he was reading a transcript in an interrogation room.

"Now come and find your lock."

The man opened his mouth.

"I--"

Do you know what it means to lock a police car?

"This isn't a police car—"

"A police car."

The man fell silent.

He stood next to the electric scooter.

His gaze shifted from Old Zhou's face to the unlocked lock on the dial.

Then they moved to the young man in the passenger seat who hadn't said a word.

Lin Zhou leaned back in his seat.

With his hands in his pockets, he was looking at the comments on his phone screen.

His expression was very calm.

The man glanced again at the lock on the dial.

The hammer mark on the lock was particularly clear in the sunlight.

"This lock..."

His voice was much softer.

"How did you open it?"

Old Zhou did not answer.

Lin Zhou looked up from his phone screen.

"It was knocked open."

The man looked at him.

Lin Zhou pulled his hand out of his pocket.

He made a tapping gesture.

"Little hammer. Tap it once. It's open."

The man watched his gestures.

Then he looked down at the unused, tan-colored crab lock in the electric scooter's basket.

He looked up at Lin Zhou again.

His lips moved.

No sound was made.

The comments section was filled with laughter.

He asked how it was opened, and Three-Second King said he knocked it open.

The person locking the car: This is an anti-theft lock. Lin Zhou: This is a small hammer.

"The older brother's expression... he's questioning the meaning of life."

He was probably thinking: "I've sold so many locks, and this is the first time someone has broken into them."

"And they did it right in front of the police."

"Three-Second King: Your lock is made of cast iron, it's brittle, it opens with a single vibration. Professional commentary."

"The lock-picking expert not only opened the lock, but also produced a quality inspection report for it."

"Cast iron is brittle; it'll break with a little vibration. Got it, bro? Next time, get steel."

Old Zhou picked up the lock from the dial and put it back in the glove box.

The glove box was closed with a muffled thud.

He pushed open the car door and got out.

The man took half a step back.

The handlebars of the electric scooter tilted again.

Old Zhou stood in front of him.

Gray sweater, dark jacket, casual wear.

She is half a head taller than a man.

He looked down at the man's flushed face.

"How many cars did you lock?"

The man didn't speak.

"How much money was received via QR code?"

The man remained silent. His Adam's apple bobbed.

Old Zhou took his phone out of his pocket.

He pressed three numbers—not to call the police, he was already a police officer.

It was a call to the institute.

"At the entrance of the Crescent Moon Gate in the east of the city. Illegal car locking, extortion. Take someone back."

He hung up the phone.

Put your phone back in your pocket.

Then he picked up the enamel mug on the dial, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of the cooled tea.

Comments flooded in.

"Brother Zhou, I waited fifteen minutes for this cup of tea."

"Herbal tea with the arrest, that's Brother Zhou's standard fare."

"Old Zhou: I've been squatting here for fifteen minutes, now you can have a cup of tea."

"The tea in the enamel mug went from hot to cold, from the crescent moon to the scene of the arrest."

"Brother Zhou's tea may have gone cold, but justice hasn't."

The man stood next to the electric scooter.

Lin Zhou pushed open the car door and got out.

He walked around the front of the car and went to the electric scooter.

The tool bag was still slung over his shoulder, and the mini camera on his chest was pointing forward.

The sunlight cast his shadow on the asphalt road.

The shadows overlapped with those of electric vehicles.

He looked down at the tan-colored crab lock in the bicycle basket.

The lock body is brand new, the paint is still intact, and the QR code on the plastic seal is reflective.

He reached out and picked up the lock, then turned it over to examine the keyhole.

The most basic pin tumbler lock has four pins and no fake slots.

It's exactly the same as the one we just knocked open.

He put the lock back.

Looking at the man's flushed face.

"Dude."

The man looked up at him.

Lin Zhou pointed to the lock in the bicycle basket.

"Does your lock need an upgrade?"