Chapter 11
“THERE’S NO WAY! That’s impossible!” insisted the youth center’s administrative director.
It was past midnight, and the man had clearly been pulled out of bed. His eyes were so swollen the flesh nearly reached his eyebrows, his shirt buttons were all in the wrong buttonholes, and he was wearing slippers. “How many kids come and go every day? Our security is very tight. Even parents have to sign in. We have security cameras everywhere with zero blind spots. You say a trafficker got in? Are you kidding? It’s absolutely impossible! I’d stake my life on that! A child would have to walk out on their own two legs—not even an alien invasion could get in here!”
“Deputy Tao. We turned on Zhang Yuchen’s phone remotely and traced her through the tracking app. She’s near White Peach Alley!”
Tao Ran froze. “White Peach Alley,” he echoed. “Why would she be there?”
White Peach Alley was about three bus stops from the youth center. It was a famous shopping area that sold all kinds of things in bulk, including clothes and accessories by the pound. There were wholesalers with bags of goods and online-store owners running around. Patrons had to be constantly vigilant to avoid being pickpocketed or scammed. It was too busy and chaotic, and to a child who’d snuck out for fun, there wasn’t anything enjoyable in White Peach Alley. On the other hand, a pervert who kidnapped children would find White Peach Alley too crowded with too many eyes. It would be way too risky.
Tao Ran pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me think.”
He was interrupted as Chenchen’s mother rushed over, pushing two officers aside. “Officer Tao, I heard what you said! You’ve traced Chenchen’s phone, right? Where is she?”
Lang Qiao, who’d only rushed over at midnight, strode over to intervene. She began to console Chenchen’s mother in a soft voice.
“But I told her!” the woman exclaimed. “I told her every day. You have to be careful when you’re outside, not leave with strangers, not go to unfamiliar places. If anything happens, let the adults know. Even I thought I was being annoying. I felt like I might’ve talked a layer of skin off my mouth by nagging so much…”
Wiping her own tears, Chang Ning pulled on Chenchen’s mother’s arm. “Don’t say that, Auntie.”
Faced with a crying Chang Ning, Tao Ran felt his stress level jump from merely 30 percent to 100. “Xiao-Qiao-er, stay here and go through the security footage. The rest of you, come with me to White Peach Alley.”
The police cruisers drove like comets through the night, their wheels almost lifting off the ground. White Peach Alley was three bus stops away, but it only took them five or six minutes to get there.
Yancheng was on the verge of changing seasons, and the first batch of autumn clothes was starting to hit the shelves, so White Peach Alley on the verge of turning into “White Knits Alley.” Buyers and sellers were packed in like sardines. Their breath alone practically created an urban heat island. It took less than three minutes of walking through the crowd for a person to be drenched in sweat.
Tao Ran looked around, lost. “Can you pinpoint the area more specifically?” he asked a technician.
“They’re approaching White Peach Alley’s west entrance,” came the response in Tao Ran’s earpiece. “And they don’t know yet that the phone is on. You’ve got to hurry, Deputy Tao.”
Tao Ran gave his subordinates a look, and they immediately split up to approach the west entrance from several directions. Tao Ran scrutinized every single passerby, not to mention garbage trucks, vans, and any bags big enough to hold a human—he didn’t overlook a single possible hiding spot. Although no one had turned on a siren, the air in White Peach Alley grew thick with tension as they searched.
“Deputy Tao, they noticed something,” a technician said suddenly in Tao Ran’s earpiece. “The phone’s been turned off again!”
Tao Ran raked his gaze over his surroundings, and his eyes landed on a large garbage bin. At that moment, a small, thin man near the bin looked up and met his gaze. The man paused, noticed Tao Ran’s uniform, then threw down whatever he’d had in his hand and fled.
The object he’d thrown was a white phone covered in little stickers.
Tao Ran’s eyes widened. “Stop!”
Up ahead, a wholesaler happened to be pushing a cart by. The small man leapt onto the cart with practiced ease, like a monkey, and the wholesaler screamed as the mountain of clothes on the cart fell to the ground in a landslide. A motorcyclist who’d been weaving slowly through traffic braked suddenly to avoid the falling clothes, swearing a blue streak.
Amid all this chaos, the small man had already climbed the fence that ran along the roadside, then flipped over. He was about to reach the other side of the street when a tall, broad officer shot out from a side road. The officer grabbed the man by the back of his collar as if he were catching a little chick. With a twist of his arm, he threw the man to the ground in one easy movement.
Tao Ran turned back to pick the white phone up off the ground, then turned it on. The wallpaper was a cat-filter selfie of Chenchen. Letting out a long breath, Tao Ran walked over to the captured man. “Where is she?”
The man raised his head; he was on the verge of tears. His nose had been injured when he was taken down, and his face was black and blue. “I-I-I was wrong. I promise I’ll never do it again… Ow… Pl-please don’t hurt me…”
Tao Ran grabbed his collar. “I’m asking you—where’s the girl?”
“Huh? Wh-what girl?”