Prison inmates also have the right to handle their personal assets.
Sheng Peishan requested a meeting with her lawyer to formally complete the paperwork renouncing her inheritance.
The bond between sisters could no longer be mended. Perhaps to ease her elder sister’s conscience, or perhaps just to find a fleeting moment of peace for her own, Sheng Peishan signed the document—marking the last interaction she would ever have with Sheng Peirong.
Sheng Peirong refused to accept the money, insisting it be transferred to Coco’s name instead.
On the day the paperwork was finalized, little Sheng Fang was far more excited than Zhu Qing.
He tugged his niece’s hand and dashed straight to the toy emporium in Causeway Bay.
"Our Qingqing isn’t a penniless kid anymore!"
The shelves were brimming with toys, and Sheng Fang’s eyes sparkled with curiosity at every turn. He paused to press buttons, gently tapping new gadgets with wonder.
Zhu Qing followed behind with a shopping basket, watching him dart through the aisles like a fish in water. With each new discovery, Sheng Fang mentally mapped out playtime scenarios—some toys for sharing with kindergarten friends, others for dragging his eldest sister into the fun. Of course, Zhu Qing, Doctor Cheng, and Aunt Ping wouldn’t be spared either—no one escaped his grand plans! In just minutes, he’d orchestrated everyone’s roles, his bouncing steps radiating pure joy.
Eyes gleaming, Sheng Fang turned and clasped his hands dramatically over his heart. "Qingqing, Qingqing, how many toys can I pick?"
Zhu Qing waved a hand magnanimously. "As many as you want."
The little master mimicked her gesture. "Then I’ll take the whole store!"
The moment the words left his mouth, his niece yanked the back of his shirt.
Sheng Fang spread his palms in surrender. "Never mind."
---
Meanwhile, Lu Xingyu had just finished work when he received news that his brother was alive. He flew back to Hong Kong immediately, not even stopping to visit his adoptive parents first.
After eighteen years of living as family, his adoptive parents cherished him as their own, and he’d long regarded them as his true kin. Days earlier, when his plane landed at Kai Tak Airport, he’d called to reassure them. But only now, with everything settled, could they finally talk properly.
Over the phone, their voices brimmed with warmth. Hearing that the brothers had reunited, they sounded both relieved and nervous. Lu Xingyu chattered about mundane details—where he was staying, what he’d eaten, new friends he’d made. Though trivial, his adoptive parents hung on every word.
He could still detect their lingering guilt. All these years, they’d carried the weight of their well-intentioned lie.
But now, he told them firmly: what mattered was the present, not the lost past.
Even across thousands of miles, their care carried through the receiver.
They asked about Cheng Xinglang too.
"My brother?" Lu Xingyu glanced at Cheng Xinglang lounging on the sofa and grinned. "He’s texting his girlfriend. He’s doing great—sends his regards."
The TV hummed nonstop, programs flickering one after another.
Neither brother was really watching, but the background noise wrapped around them like a comfort.
These days, Cheng Xinglang always slept on the floor of Lu Xingyu’s room.
Light flooded every corner, the room stubbornly bright even at midnight. He never questioned it, just donned an eye mask each night and gradually adapted.
Cheng Xinglang understood: that dark night, the cramped closet, the bloody scene glimpsed through a crack—it still haunted Lu Xingyu. Only blazing lights could lull him to sleep now.
But someday, he believed, those shadows would fade.
Before bed, they sometimes chatted, though often they simply coexisted in silence.
Just knowing the other was nearby anchored their once-adrift hearts.
One late night, Lu Xingyu groggily reached for his bedside water glass, only to remember he’d forgotten to fill it. As he stumbled up, his foot caught on Cheng Xinglang’s makeshift bed.
"Most people trip in the dark," Cheng Xinglang mumbled, peeling off his eye mask. "You manage it with the lights on?"
"Ge," Lu Xingyu gulped water and sighed at the moonlight outside. "When I first came back, you were practically crying!"
Cheng Xinglang buried his face in the pillow. "Quit the act. Go to sleep."
---
It was a long summer break.
Sheng Peirong couldn’t stand her little brother’s idleness, often glaring at the calendar, willing the school term to start sooner. Even Aunt Ping, her ears buzzing from Sheng Fang’s endless chatter, missed the golden era when the little tyrant was safely tucked away in class.
"You’ll miss me once school starts!"
"Delusional," Sheng Peirong laughed.
Unlike the carefree Sheng Fang, Zhu Qing and her soon-to-be husband still had work. So the "senior officer" of Yau Ma Tei Police Station proudly took it upon himself to give Lu Xingyu a grand tour.
By now, the entire station knew Doctor Cheng had reunited with his long-lost brother. Lu Xingyu noticed how every face lit up at the sight of him—proof of his brother’s deep bonds here.
"Hao Zai sidled over. "We’ve heard so much about you from Doctor Cheng. That day on the rooftop, when they said—"
"Enough chatter." Uncle Li rapped Hao Zai’s head with a rolled-up newspaper. "Let’s drop that subject."
Rubbing his head, Hao Zai muttered about how he’d hoped marriage would soften Uncle Li.
Laughter rippled through the group as the conversation shifted.
But everyone remembered: that moment on Mind Spirit Rehabilitation Center’s rooftop, when Zong Zhuoxian sneered the word "buried alive," Doctor Cheng’s face had drained of color. It might’ve been the most agonizing second of his life.
Zhu Qing hadn’t witnessed it, but the retelling alone twisted her heart. Still, this turbulent tale had found its happy ending.
"Anyway, we’re celebrating today," Xu Jiale announced loudly. "Wonder who’s buying afternoon tea—"
A blatant hint aimed at the office’s Senior Inspector.
Weng Zhaolin arched a brow, hands clasped behind his back as he rose—just as the door burst open.
"John! Where’s John?"
"Right here," Weng Zhaolin answered, amused.
Sheng Fang’s fluffy head popped in, dragging Lu Xingyu behind him to make introductions.
However, the little one noticed that this junior exuded an icy, unapproachable aura whenever Doctor Cheng wasn’t around.
Truth be told, Zhu Qing and Lu Xingyu had somewhat similar personalities, and Cheng Xinglang seemed naturally compatible with people like them.
As for Sheng Fang’s temperament, it was entirely different from theirs. Yet, he had a knack for effortlessly handling them—almost like child’s play.
"Go play with Qing," Fangfang said, tilting his little chin up.
Lu Xingyu hesitated for a moment.
Being dismissed by a child made him feel a bit silly. But standing there making small talk with a high-ranking inspector he barely knew? That was even more unbearable.
In the end, he chose to walk away.
Before he could get far, he heard the kid’s voice behind him, sounding oddly mature for his age.
"He’s shy around strangers."
Lu Xingyu paused mid-step, then quickly hurried off.
Weng Zhaolin chuckled. "Our Tiantian is shy too."
Back in the office, John and his little confidant continued their lively chat, swapping parenting stories.
Weng Zhaolin mentioned how well-behaved Tiantian was—how she would lie on her soft mat, happily shaking her rattle for ages. Once, when her mom stepped away to take a call, she didn’t cry or fuss. She even smiled when her mother returned. Just recalling the scene made Weng Zhaolin’s lips curl into an unstoppable grin.
Sheng Fang, spinning dizzily in his swivel chair, swung his short legs and asked with concern, "Is she really okay all by herself?"
"No problem at all," Weng Zhaolin reassured him. "She can’t even roll over yet, let alone wander off. All she can do is kick her tiny feet—she’s not going anywhere."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Weng Zhaolin couldn’t help but laugh.
The way he said it made it sound like Sheng Fang wasn’t a child himself.
……
Sheng Fang, ever the gracious host, gave Doctor Cheng’s younger brother a grand tour of every corner of the police station.
He was having the time of his life playing tour guide. If only his superiors would allow it, he’d happily stand at the station entrance waving a little flag, offering free guided tours to every passerby.
Lu Xingyu spent the entire morning trailing after Sheng Fang as they wandered through the Yau Ma Tei Police Station.
By lunchtime, the kid eagerly volunteered to take him to the canteen.
Little Officer Sheng’s influence was even greater than the superintendent’s.
Sister Xiao and Uncle Ming from the kitchen greeted them warmly.
"What would you like to eat today?"
"Want another special kiddie drink?"
Even when the food arrived, Sheng Fang’s portion was noticeably larger—extra servings at no extra cost.
"Sister Xiao, he’s Doctor Cheng’s brother!"
Sister Xiao immediately gave a knowing nod, and soon, Lu Xingyu’s plate was piled high like a mountain.
But given their polar-opposite personalities and the "adjustment period" of a new acquaintance, Sheng Fang and the team’s newest member occasionally butted heads.
During such times, Zhu Qing and Cheng Xinglang became their mediators.
During a lunch break, the young couple shared a simple meal on the police station’s rooftop.
Sheng Fang stormed up, dragging Lu Xingyu by the arm, his little face puffed up like a balloon.
He told Qing that Lu Xingyu had just kicked a dead cockroach in the stairwell.
"I was going to turn it into a specimen and gift it to someone!"
Lu Xingyu replied calmly, "No one would want that kind of present."
Sheng Fang planted his hands on his hips and threatened, "If you kicked it, it’ll come find you in your dreams tonight!"
"Why would I be scared of a cockroach in my dreams?"
Both of them turned their heads simultaneously, seeking backup.
"Look," Sheng Fang said, staring at Cheng Xinglang.
"Look," Lu Xingyu echoed, glancing at Zhu Qing.
Was this some new form of cross-complaining?
Zhu Qing and Cheng Xinglang exchanged a look and chose to flee.
"Inspector Mo just called for me."
"Ah Ben has a report waiting for my signature."
The disloyal niece and nephew-in-law vanished in an instant, leaving the two of them standing there, staring at each other—one big, one small.
"Want some milk toast?" Lu Xingyu asked.
Sheng Fang lifted his chin haughtily. "Extra butter."
"Deal," Lu Xingyu said, turning away. "Adults don’t hold grudges against kids."
Fangfang nodded solemnly. "You’re absolutely right."
……
Zhu Qing and little Sheng Fang spent their days in simple, heartwarming routines.
When the police station was busy, Zhu Qing’s pace quickened, and time seemed to speed up.
But during quieter moments, life slowed down—so much so that even the tiny flowers in the courtyard could captivate the aunt-nephew duo for ages.
However, just as Sheng Fang was having the most fun, the kindergarten sent out its back-to-school notice.
Not long ago, Fangfang had grumbled about envying adults who didn’t get holidays. His niece had told him he’d take those words back when he grew up. Now, even before growing up, the little one was already regretting his bold statement.
School hadn’t even started, and Sheng Fang was already missing his vacation.
"Why does school have to start so soon?" he mumbled, staring blankly at the calendar.
"Finally, school’s starting," Sheng Peirong nearly cheered. "Do your best this new semester."
Sheng Fang sighed like a tiny adult.
He wondered if the new semester would still include fun role-playing activities like before. He’d have to ask Teacher Ji if he could play the milk tea shopkeeper again.
On the first day back, Teacher Ji stood at the classroom door, welcoming the children.
Moving from the toddler class to the junior class wasn’t a big change, and the kids weren’t impressed.
"When can we be big kids like the senior class?"
After two months apart, every child had grown a little taller.
Teacher Ji patted each of their small shoulders, her eyes brimming with warmth.
"Today, we have a special activity," she announced, guiding the children to gather around a round table. She pointed to the blank cards on it. "Write a letter to your future self. You can write about what you hope to be like when you grow up, or any message you’d like to tell yourself."
The children’s sweet, milky voices piped up one after another.
"Teacher, I don’t know how to write."
"Me neither!"
Little Sheng Fang propped his cheeks in his hands. "I can write."
A wave of admiring gazes swept over him.
He smirked. "But I don’t want to."
Teacher Ji massaged her temples.
The familiar headache was back—she could already tell this new semester would be another challenge thanks to this little lord.
"Teacher will write for you," she said. "One by one."
The kids’ little minds whirred as they mentally drafted their letters.
Yesi hoped that her future self would become a dazzling model—just like the ones she saw on TV, towering like lampposts, striding confidently with radiant energy.
Ah Juan had long aspired to join the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC). Last time, his parents even took him to the entrance of the ICAC building and snapped a photo of him. In the picture, little Ah Juan stood with his arms crossed, his expression serious, as if it were an official portrait for his future job.
Jin Bao, on the other hand, was still uncertain about his future.
He lowered his head and asked, "Teacher Ji, what should I do?"
"Don’t worry," Teacher Ji reassured him gently. "Take your time. You’ll eventually find the person you want to become."
Relieved, Jin Bao took out a small packet of biscuits from his pocket and began nibbling on them.
This special activity lasted a long time.
Teacher Ji patiently stopped by each child, carefully recording their innocent aspirations and sealing them into envelopes with great care.
Sheng Fang’s letter was the longest.
In this letter to his future self, his hopes were incredibly detailed. He wanted to accompany his niece as she grew up, buy her lots of toys, and take her on a day trip to the CID. Hearing that John planned to hire a Filipina maid for his niece, Uncle Fang was determined to vet the candidate thoroughly—making sure the maid’s name wasn’t "Marissa." His eldest sister, Sheng Peirong, would achieve her ambitions, expanding the family business, while remaining the steadfast pillar of support for him and his niece. Aunt Ping would always stay with the family, never missing a single annual family photo.
Most importantly, there was Zhu Qing.
Qing and Doctor Cheng would always be the best partners, fighting for justice and standing up for victims.
Perhaps many years later, she would get married, and he’d gain a nephew-in-law. In truth, even before Qing accepted Doctor Cheng, little Sheng Fang had already warmed up to him… So as her little uncle, Fangfang decided to bless their relationship and vowed never to stand in their way again!
"Qing will rise from constable to senior constable, then sergeant," Sheng Fang said, resting his chubby cheeks in his hands.
Teacher Ji wrote that down and paused. "Done."
"Not yet." Fangfang shook his head like a rattle-drum and continued, "After sergeant comes probationary inspector, inspector, senior inspector, and then chief inspector!"
Teacher Ji bent over the paper again, scribbling away. "Now?"
"Teacher, we’ve only just started!"
This was merely the beginning—Qing’s career had a long way to go.
"After chief inspector, there’s superintendent, senior superintendent, and then…"
"Chief superintendent!"
"Is there a higher rank?" Teacher Ji asked gently.
Sheng Fang tilted his head.
The promotion path he knew ended there.
"There probably is, but John only told me this much," Fangfang said, lifting his face. "I’ll find out more and add it later."
Teacher Ji chuckled. "Fangfang, what about your own future plans?"
"Me?" Sheng Fang answered without hesitation. "My career path is the same as Qing’s."
Looking at the densely filled page, Teacher Ji rubbed her sore wrist.
She took a small liberty, adding a parenthesis after Zhu Qing’s "career plan"—
"(Same for Fangfang.)"
The afternoon sunlight streamed into the kindergarten classroom, filled with the children’s laughter.
Teacher Ji watched these tiny tots and suddenly felt a pang of reluctance.
She would treasure every single letter.
Without a doubt, ten or twenty years later, when these letters were reopened, these innocent, carefree children would have grown into shining adults.
For now, Teacher Ji only wished time would slow down.
Let their beautiful childhood stretch on a little longer.
…
In early autumn, before Sheng Fang officially started school, his older friends organized a barbecue gathering on Lantau Island.
Colleagues from the Serious Crime Unit B, Forensics, and the Identification Bureau had gone to great lengths to coordinate their schedules, preparing well in advance.
At home, Sheng Fang chanted "BBQ" daily, nearly turning the three letters into a self-composed nursery rhyme. He also busied himself with preparations, pestering Aunt Ping to stock up on his favorite marshmallows. However, one pack after another mysteriously disappeared—eaten by the little boy himself.
Sheng Peirong teased, "From now on, the only thing we’ll lock in the safe is marshmallows."
Sheng Fang, being no ordinary three-year-old, caught the jest.
He decided to reopen the "Fangfang Prison."
"Big sis," he said with a stern, official expression, "you and your daughter are sharing a cell."
Aunt Ping laughed but kept working diligently.
Always thoughtful, she painstakingly threaded corn kernels onto skewers, her reading glasses perched on her nose.
Finally, the day arrived.
Cheng Xinglang drove, while Zhu Qing sat in the passenger seat organizing the ingredients. In the back, Lu Xingyu and Fangfang were engaged in a heated debate: "Should we open the marshmallow bag now?"
"If we open it now, they won’t last till Lantau," Lu Xingyu argued.
The logic was irrefutable, leaving Fangfang speechless.
He puffed his cheeks and turned away.
"He’s got a point," Zhu Qing said, glancing back with a smile.
Cheng Xinglang mimicked a child’s tone, "So annoying."
Rolling down the window, the crisp autumn breeze drifted in.
Fangfang decided not to stoop to their level.
Lu Xingyu also gazed outside, watching the scenery blur past.
Over the past month, Lu Xingyu had delayed his departure again and again.
Each time he packed his suitcase, he told himself it was time to leave—yet he kept staying a few more days.
Work awaited him overseas, and his adoptive parents were eager for his return. Lu Xingyu said he really had to go back this time. But with travel so convenient nowadays, knowing they’d reunite soon made farewells less painful.
"Laying low abroad isn’t a bad idea," Lu Xingyu complained to Zhu Qing. "My brother’s been giving me the side-eye lately. Last night, he made me do all the dishes alone."
Without turning his head, Cheng Xinglang retorted, "How old are you? Need me to hold your hand while washing dishes?"
Zhu Qing mediated the "family dispute," while a little instigator piped up from the back.
"Shame on you," Fangfang said, dragging a tiny finger across his cheek.
Lu Xingyu smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair.
Strangely enough, though their time together had been brief, blending into his brother’s life felt effortless, as if he’d never left. He’d gotten to know Zhu Qing, Fangfang, the warm-hearted folks from CID and Forensics, even Zhu Qing’s mother and the kind Aunt Ping. Seeing how well Cheng Xinglang fit in, Lu Xingyu could finally rest assured.
His brother was happy here.
By the time they arrived at Lantau Island, their colleagues had already set up the grill.
Though usually reserved, Lu Xingyu found it surprisingly easy to mingle with the group.
Ah Ben raised a cold beer from a distance. "Xingyu, want one?"
Beer cans clinked together, foam spilling over as they hastily took sips before bursting into laughter.
On the other side, Cheng Xinglang focused intently on grilling slices of pork belly.
His perfectly cooked pork belly, with just the right balance of fat and lean meat, carried the exact flavor Sheng Fang had been craving.
Sheng Fang pulled Zhu Qing along to queue at his "grill stall."
"Here! I want to be the first to eat!" Fangfang raised her hand.
Yet the first piece of freshly grilled pork belly ended up in Zhu Qing's mouth.
She shrugged playfully. "Sorry, niece gets first dibs."
Sheng Fang narrowed her eyes at Doctor Cheng—only to have her little mouth betray her the next second, devouring the meat with greasy delight.
Just then, Zeng Yongshan sidled up to Zhu Qing, holding a slice of grilled bread.
"Try this," she said, tearing off a small piece and offering it to Zhu Qing. "Well? How is it? My special—"
"Garlic honey glaze," Zhu Qing finished with a smile, "with a layer of strawberry jam."
"You can actually taste that?" Zeng Yongshan's eyes widened.
Zhu Qing's lips curled. "You told me last time."
"But this is my secret recipe—I don’t just share it with anyone!"
Zeng Yongshan racked her brain for the "secret sauce" moment, only to find the memory already hazy.
But one thing was certain: she’d wanted to be friends with Zhu Qing from that early on.
Now, that bond had deepened over time.
Both cherished it deeply.
"Anyway, it’s delicious, end of story," Zeng Yongshan boasted. "Next time we’re on a stakeout, I’ll set up a bread stall. No one’ll see through it."
"Zeng Yongshan—" Several colleagues turned in unison, scolding, "Don’t jinx it!"
No one knew how this group all seemed to have superhuman hearing.
Zeng Yongshan shrank back sheepishly.
As the sun dipped lower, the group, though exhausted from a full day of fun, caught Sheng Fang’s infectious energy—no one wanted to leave.
Yet just as the mood peaked, a dozen pagers buzzed simultaneously.
Every officer froze.
Mo Zhenbang glanced at the message and sprang up. "Move out!"
Sheng Fang’s eyes instantly sparkled like stars.
But as she tried to blend into the work crew, Zhu Qing yanked her back.
This niece was about to run off and solve cases again!
Watching her colleagues vanish swiftly, Sheng Fang stood on tiptoe to pat Lu Xingyu’s shoulder. "Little brother, just us left now."
"I’m not your brother!"
"Then what are you?"
"..."
"Hurry up!" Mo Zhenbang called over his shoulder. "We’ll drop you at Tai O Road—take a taxi to Mong Kok."
Sheng Fang sprinted across the sand, dragging her "brother" behind, leaving a trail of uneven footprints.
Her innocent gaze never left Zhu Qing’s retreating figure.
To Sheng Fang, Zhu Qing would always be a radiant warrior.
And she’d chase after her, someday becoming just as fearless—a guardian of justice.
Cases came and went, an endless cycle.
One day, "Baby Sheng Fang" would truly grow into the capable Inspector Fang.
Then, they’d be a bona fide police dynasty!
Autumn winds chased waves against the shore,
Crashing relentlessly, again and again.
Everyone marched forward,
Steadfast toward a brighter tomorrow.
