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

The man paused for a moment.

"It's made of cast iron, so it's brittle. It'll break if you shake it."

Lin Zhou patted his toolbox.

"I'll replace the lock cylinder for you, it'll be steel and shockproof. No one can break it with a hammer anymore."

The man looked at him.

His lips moved.

"I'll give you a discount."

Lin Zhou said, "Three hundred."

The street was quiet for a moment.

Old Zhou held his enamel cup, the mouthful of herbal tea he had just drunk still in his mouth, not swallowing.

He looked at Lin Zhou.

Lin Zhou stood next to the electric scooter, one hand resting on the basket, his expression serious as if he were discussing a serious business deal.

The live chat exploded.

He's selling.

"Three-Second King is selling lock cylinder upgrades to people locking their cars."

"Cast iron, brittle, will break with a little vibration"—point out the product defect first, then offer an upgrade solution; professional sales pitch.

Locksmith: Your lock is no good. Car Locker: ... Locksmith: I'll replace it for you, three hundred.

"Brother Zhou's tea was still in his mouth, he didn't swallow it."

"Old Zhou: I'm enforcing the law, you're selling something?"

"Three-Second King: Law enforcement is law enforcement, and business is business."

The man looked at Lin Zhou.

On his ruddy face, his expression changed from blank to confused.

This person just broke his lock with a hammer and now wants to upgrade it.

In front of the police.

He didn't speak.

Lin Zhou took out a business card from his pocket.

The white cardstock has slightly curled edges.

It was printed with "Lin Zhou Professional Locksmith" and a phone number.

He handed over his business card.

"I'll think about it. We offer 24-hour service."

The man looked down at the business card.

He didn't reach out.

Instead, he looked up and glanced at Officer Zhou.

Old Zhou stood to the side, holding an enamel mug.

He looked away from the business card and gazed across the street.

The live chat exploded again.

"Brother Zhou pretended not to see it."

"Old Zhou has turned around."

"Brother Zhou: I didn't see anything, I was just drinking tea."

The enamel mug obscured his face, but it couldn't hide his tacit approval.

"Police tacitly allowed locksmiths to sell lock cylinders to suspects who locked their cars."

"What kind of law enforcement ecosystem is this?"

"This is the perfect understanding between the Three-Second King and Brother Zhou."

The man did not accept the business card.

He turned his head and looked at Lao Zhou.

"police officer."

His voice was even hoarser than before, as if something was stuck in his throat.

"I...this is my first time. I only locked a few bikes. I'll refund the money from the QR code, I'll refund it all. Please let me off the hook."

Old Zhou held his enamel mug without saying a word.

"I have a wife and children."

The man's voice trailed off, landing on the asphalt road.

"My daughter just started elementary school. Please let me off the hook, and I promise I'll never lock it again."

Lin Zhou stood next to the electric scooter, still holding the business card in his hand.

He glanced at the man's flushed face, which looked like it was about to collapse.

Then I looked at Old Zhou's profile, which was holding the enamel cup and remaining motionless.

He put the business card back in his pocket and patted the man on the shoulder.

"Dude."

The man turned to look at him.

"Do you know how many times I've dealt with the police these past few days?"

The man paused for a moment.

"three times."

Lin Zhou held up three fingers.

"On the first day, I stumbled upon a group engaging in lewd acts while unlocking a door and called the police. On the second day, I went to a foot massage parlor to repair a safe and ran into a prostitution raid. This morning, I stumbled upon drug users while unlocking a door, called the police, and was taken in to give a statement."

He pulled three fingers back.

"I didn't even plead for him."

The man looked at him.

"This is your first time. What are you begging for?"

The streets are quiet again.

Old Zhou held his enamel mug, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

He raised the cup to his lips, blocking the twitching motion.

The comments section went crazy.

"He's been in there three times."

"The Locksmith's Police Station Attendance Record: Three times in three days, perfect attendance"

"Three-Second King: I didn't even plead for him, why are you pleading for him?"

"The way he held up three fingers made him look like an experienced prisoner imparting his wisdom to a new inmate."

Lin Zhou: The police station? I know it well. Pleading? It's useless.

"Brother Zhou's mouth twitched, he twitched."

Old Zhou: I held back and used an enamel mug to block it.

The man looked at Lin Zhou.

His face was a deep reddish-brown.

That expression of impending collapse slowly turned into a blank.

My mind was filled with confusion.

Who exactly is this person?

Looks like a locksmith.

But now, standing in front of him, handing him a business card, promoting lock cylinder upgrades, and even telling him not to beg for favors.

He lowered his head.

The handlebars of the electric scooter were tilted to one side in his hand.

The tan crab lock in the bicycle basket was scorching hot from the sun.

In this eerie atmosphere, the silence was broken by the sound of a police siren.

A police car turned from the intersection.

The police lights on the roof of the vehicle spun silently.

It was parked behind Lao Zhou's car.

The car door opened, and two young policemen got out.

Old Zhou placed the enamel mug on the roof of the car.

I walked over and said a few words to the two young policemen.

He pointed to the man next to the electric scooter.

He then pointed to the lock in the trunk that had been knocked open.

The young policemen nodded, and one of them took out a notebook to take notes.

Old Zhou walked back. He picked up the enamel mug from the roof of the car and unscrewed the cap.

The tea had completely cooled down, and the tea leaves had sunk to the bottom of the cup, like a small, rotten specimen.

He put the lid on and put the cup back in the cup holder.

He looked at the man.

"We'll talk about it when we get back."

The man was taken to a police car.

He didn't turn around.

The electric scooter was pushed by another policeman, following behind.

Old Zhou turned around and looked at Lin Zhou.

"What are you still standing there for?"

Lin Zhou leaned against the car door, his hands in his pockets.

"Let's have one."

Lin Zhou pulled his hand out of his pocket.

"What piece?"

"Take a statement."

Old Zhou opened the driver's side door and placed his hand on it.

"The lock you opened, the lock you knocked on, the police you called—"

He paused for a moment, then said, "No, this time I was the one who reported it. But you are also a party involved. Cooperate with the investigation."

Old Zhou got into the driver's seat.

The car door wasn't closed, and he reached out and adjusted the angle of the enamel cup in the cup holder, turning the handle of the cup about half a turn.

"Is my testimony enough? You opened the lock, and if you don't make it clear, what if he changes his story and says that he didn't lock the lock, but someone else did? Where am I supposed to find you then?"

Lin Zhou stood outside the car door.

I was speechless.

What do you mean I smashed it?

He looked at Lao Zhou's profile as he sat in the driver's seat.

The enamel mug was in the cup holder, with the words "Outstanding People's Police" in red on the lid facing him.

The comments section was filled with laughter.

"Let's have one."

"Brother Zhou: Let's go together. Lin Zhou: ?. Old Zhou: To take a statement."

"The 'Three-Second King' has been to the police station for the fourth time today."

"No, this is the first time today. It happened three times yesterday, and this is the first time today. That makes four times in three days."

"The lock-picking king's police station attendance record has been broken."

"Brother Zhou's reasoning is impeccable: You opened the lock, so if you don't go to give a statement, who will?"

Old Zhou: I need witnesses. Lin Zhou: You can write your own testimony. Old Zhou: My testimony alone isn't enough. Lin Zhou: ..."

"The expression on Three-Second King's face showed that he was mentally calculating how many times he had been to the police station today."

"He did drugs this morning, and now he's locking his car. That's twice today."