Diary of a Criminal Investigator

Sun Jianguo opened a pack of Hongta Mountain cigarettes and handed one to Zhang Erhe.

The other took the cigarette and offered Sun Jianguo a light: "Uncle, I think there’s no need to go to the Old Street, there’s hardly anyone there, maybe less than a hundred people including my dad?"

Although Sun Jianguo later moved out of the Old Street, Zhang Erhe’s father still lived in the old house.

Some of Sun Jianguo’s relatives and childhood friends who grew up with him are still in the Old Street.

So, even though he moved out of the Old Street, Sun Jianguo still often returns, being more familiar with that place than his current neighborhood.

"There should be no problems, but Erhe, you have to remember, solving a case doesn’t mean not checking acquaintances. The superior’s requirement is that every household on Northern Avenue should be thoroughly checked."

"Our Old Street is also within the scope, even though everyone is familiar, but this time both of us have to visit every house, including your dad’s."

"Do you understand? This is work discipline."

Zhang Erhe quickly nodded: "Uncle, don’t worry, it’s not my first time handling a case. It’s just that I feel strange for the two of us to go to the Old Street..."

"What, feel embarrassed to wear this uniform back for investigations?"

Zhang Erhe nodded: "Not really, it’s just that I am just an auxiliary police officer, who doesn’t know that back there?"

"Going back to investigate the case, wouldn’t those gossipy ones say I’m flaunting?"

"You kid, quite a few schemes in your head."

"Don’t worry, I remember your situation, I reported your formal position issue to Director Chen last week, but you know, it’s not decided by our station, it needs approval from the bureau."

The existence of auxiliary police is not new; truth be told, although auxiliary police are not officially part of the establishment, their work is no different from that of regular police.

They still face danger and suspects, working with their lives on the line.

Some of them are even more competent than many regular officers.

However, in previous years, the promotion channel for auxiliary police was very narrow, with no chance of becoming formal.

In these past two years, channels have opened, but the positions are very limited.

In a year, a bureau probably has only three to five, at most no more than ten slots.

But how many auxiliary police are there in a bureau?

Even a single police station has more than a dozen auxiliary officers, sometimes even more.

Across the entire bureau, many places have hundreds of auxiliary staff.

Moreover, due to management issues in previous years, many positions were taken either by the children of leaders or by their relatives.

Now that there’s a path for formalization, who knows how many are eyeing it.

But precisely because many are watching, it makes the formalization of auxiliary police relatively fairer.

So, each auxiliary police who becomes official needs to carry some merit or achievements.

Zhang Erhe received a commendation from a sub-bureau last year, better than most auxiliary police, but still slightly lacking for formalization.

"Today, I asked a friend at the bureau to find out that there are 5 formalization spots this year. One auxiliary police who saved a person in the South Suburb is sure to secure a spot, no doubt. But there are 5 others besides him who have won commendations, so one has to be cut."

Zhang Erhe wasn’t aware of these details; he didn’t have such resources yet.

But he knew about the rescue in the South Suburb; the auxiliary officer who rescued someone had joined just last year, working in an internal documentation post.

His swimming skills were so-so, barely qualifying as swimming, but he jumped in with others.

Though if not for the other two citizens who jumped in, he probably would’ve drowned himself, let alone save anyone.

But regardless, he dared to jump at that moment!

Knowing full well there’s a risk of death, he still jumped!

You have to know, he wasn’t in uniform at that time; even if he hadn’t jumped, no one would’ve said anything.

Giving him a third-class merit and promoting him to a formal officer makes sense.

"Uncle, honestly, whether I become formal or not doesn’t matter much, I’m doing pretty well now. It’s just that my dad keeps nagging me."

"Moreover, if not this year, then there’s next year."

"Silly boy, don’t talk nonsense, whether you formalize or not makes a big difference, you’ll know once you retire."

"Besides... next year... your commendation from last year, formalization gives you only a two-year bonus period, after that it’s useless!"

Youth is still youth.

"Forget it, you don’t need to bother about this. Next week, I’ll take a trip to the city bureau..."

Who doesn’t have some friends in authority; Sun Jianguo’s colleagues from back then all work in key departments at the bureau.

For Zhang Erhe’s issue, it’s not about taking another’s spot, just ensuring he doesn’t lose his own. Fairness and justice are enough.

Old Street has only one cement road, bumpy, barely allowing two vehicles to pass by each other.

"Song, not cooking today?"

At the east end of the Old Street is a blacksmith shop, open for several decades now, existing since Sun Jianguo’s childhood memories.

But the old blacksmith passed away long ago. His son, Song Yuanchao, a childhood friend of Sun Jianguo, inherited it later, but succumbed to cancer eight years ago.

Now the blacksmith shop is run by Old Song’s son, Song Tiejun, in his thirties. The elders call him Little Song, peers call him Blacksmith Bro.

"Blacksmith Bro, I say, there’s no one coming to your blacksmith shop, why bother keeping it open, just close it."

Zhang Erhe grew up with Song Tiejun, they’re childhood buds.

"What difference does it make if it’s open or closed, I don’t rely on this for a living, it’s just my dad’s craft, if I abandon it, there’d be nothing to remember him by."

"Nonsense, you already left back then, insisted on returning, and now you’re the only young person in our generation staying back in the Old Street, aren’t you?"

"You know I got married and moved, didn’t you?"

"Having returned, it’s easy and free, nobody can bother me, I eat alone and the whole family isn’t hungry."

Song Tiejun grinned, revealing two rows of big yellow teeth.

"Uncle, come inside for a bit, I’ve made mutton soup today, have a taste."

Sun Jianguo didn’t say a word, and Zhang Erhe waved his hand: "Sit inside my foot, Uncle and I have a task, can’t delay. Is your mutton soup ready, dish a bowl out for Uncle."

"Yes, yes, wait a moment, I’ll get a bowl. It only takes a bite of mutton soup, won’t hold you up."

With that, Song Tiejun went back inside. In less than two minutes, he came out with a steaming bowl of mutton soup.

"Uncle, try a bowl, it’s fresh."

Sun Jianguo accepted a bowl of mutton soup. Song Tiejun sprinkled some scallions, cilantro, and a bit of salt, making it even more aromatic.

Slurp.

Sun Jianguo took a sip, closed his eyes, and sighed comfortably: "You kid, your mutton soup tastes just like your dad’s."

In recent years, Sun Jianguo has become increasingly nostalgic, probably getting old, always reminiscing about the past, especially childhood memories.

It’s a pity, the old folks have spread all over, some passed away, some moved away. Among childhood friends, only a few remain.

In another decade or more, might not even gather enough for a game of mahjong.

"By the way, Blacksmith Bro, is your wife still over by Nanshan Road?"