Within twenty-four hours of the incident, the Serious Crimes Unit B swiftly deployed officers, dividing into three teams to pursue different leads. One team investigated the financial status of the deceased's company and potential business rivals, another looked into the alleged child abuse case involving the deceased and his ex-wife, while the third focused on the deceased's younger brother, Wei Xusheng.
At 9:45 a.m., Wei Xusheng was summoned to the police station for questioning.
"You already took my statement twice yesterday," he grumbled, slouching in the plastic chair with dark circles under his eyes. "I barely slept last night, and now you drag me here first thing in the morning. Can’t you just ask everything at once?"
"Couldn’t sleep, huh? Guilty conscience keeping you up?" Uncle Li smirked, leaning forward. "Or were you too busy celebrating your inheritance in Lan Kwai Fong?"
Wei Xusheng stiffened. "That’s a serious accusation, officer."
Zhu Qing slid a photograph across the table—a still frame extracted from warehouse surveillance footage.
"Three years ago, there was an internal theft at 'Simiao Toys' warehouse. Wei Huasheng had hidden cameras installed afterward. Only a handful of executives and security personnel knew about it—most warehouse employees were unaware."
The surveillance footage showed Wei Huasheng and Wei Xusheng arguing in the toy factory warehouse. The timestamp indicated it was taken at 6 p.m. the day before the murder.
"Mr. Wei, you claimed you hadn’t seen your brother in three or four years," Uncle Li tapped the photo. "But this proves you not only met recently—you were fighting."
Wei Xusheng clenched his fingers around the photo. "I… I misremembered. We met the day before."
"Why lie about it?"
"It wasn’t a lie—I just forgot. We did argue. He had all that money but refused to share a single cent with me."
"He donated so much to charities—books, clothes, medical bills for sick kids, tuition for poor students… Why couldn’t he help his own brother?"
"If he’d given me that money, I wouldn’t be living like this."
Zhu Qing flipped through the file. "Our records show your brother did arrange a job for you."
"A job?" Wei Xusheng scoffed. "Did you also check how much he paid me? A meaningless position with no real work, docking my pay if I left early… He made millions while tossing me scraps. A few thousand a month—was I some beggar to him?"
According to Wei Xusheng, he hadn’t contacted his brother in years. What stung more was that Wei Huasheng never reached out either, showing no regard for family ties.
"Eventually, I realized—why let him off easy? He’s my brother. If he’s stuck with me, that’s his bad luck." Wei Xusheng loosened his collar, his tone bitter. "The day before it happened, I went to demand money."
He sneered. "I cornered him at the toy company. Rich people, huh? Even talking to his own brother, he kept checking his watch like I was wasting his precious time—like I was costing him millions."
"Funny, isn’t it? When we were kids, he only got into toys to make me happy. Now he’s built an empire from it, and suddenly I’m just a nuisance. If you ask me, his whole company owes its success to me."
"So Wei Huasheng refused you?" Zhu Qing continued taking notes.
"He said, ‘If you have hands and feet, earn it yourself… Help in emergencies, not laziness.’ That’s fine for strangers, but to your own brother?" Wei Xusheng paused. "But he didn’t refuse. In the end, he agreed—just this once, no next time. Said he didn’t have cash or checks on him and told me to come back in a few days."
Uncle Li studied Wei Xusheng’s expression closely.
As he spoke, a flash of resentment crossed his eyes—as if the money had always been rightfully his.
"Your brother really owed you, huh?" Uncle Li snorted.
"Damn right," Wei Xusheng shot back. "Our parents are gone. On their deathbed, they made him promise to take care of me. Brothers in this life—no second chances. Who else was supposed to help me?"
Uncle Li spread his hands at the entitled response. "Go on."
"The next day, I called to pressure him—told him to hurry up with the money. That’s the call you’re asking about. He said he was busy, had somewhere to be, and to contact him later. Like I couldn’t tell? He was brushing me off!"
"Records show your call ended at 2:30 p.m.," Zhu Qing looked up. "Where did you go afterward?"
According to Doctor Ye’s estimation, Wei Huasheng’s time of death was around 3 p.m. The call might have been to arrange a meeting.
"I went home and slept."
"Any witnesses?"
"Witnesses? My wife and kid left me. It’s just me and an empty flat—you want ghosts to vouch for me?" Wei Xusheng scowled, then widened his eyes. "Wait—are you suspecting me?"
The officers ignored the question and pressed further.
"We notified you to identify the body at 5 p.m. Why did you only show up by 9?"
"I’d barely slept an hour when my mahjong buddies called…" Wei Xusheng suddenly remembered. "Right! I went out to play. They needed a fourth at the parlor downstairs—they can confirm I was there!"
"From what time to what time?"
"Got the call around 3:30, washed my face, and went down. Check the pager records if you don’t believe me."
Zhu Qing noted the shaky alibi.
According to records, Wei Xusheng’s residence was only fifteen minutes from the crime scene—plenty of time to commit the act and return to the mahjong parlor.
"We don’t need your tips on police work." Uncle Li opened another file, shifting gears. "How was your brother’s marriage back then?"
Wei Xusheng’s expression turned odd.
"That woman?" He smirked. "The kind who’d harm her own child. Pure evil."
"Don’t know what my brother saw in her."
……
The police had interviewed employees at the toy company about the deceased’s personal life.
But that was a decade ago. Most current staff were too young to know details.
As the closest living relative, Wei Xusheng was their best source on the failed marriage.
"When we were kids, the family was dirt poor," Wei Xusheng recalled. "My brother was obsessed with building his business. Always said ‘career before family.’ Didn’t marry until he was nearly forty."
"Back then, he wasn’t as wealthy, but his company was already showing some promise."
"What kind of person was your sister-in-law?" Uncle Li asked.
"At first, she was very virtuous—gentle, refined, and kind to me. She often invited me over for meals back then."
At this point in his recollection, he pursed his lips. "Later, she changed."
"During her pregnancy, she was still fine, but after giving birth, she became a completely different person."
"She nitpicked everything, never satisfied with anything. My brother was busy with his business, and she quit her job to stay home. There was only one maid helping her with the baby, but she always found something to complain about."
"I heard my brother grumble about it—he was already overwhelmed at the factory during the day, and when he came home, she’d scold him endlessly. That’s when they started arguing constantly, and she’d burst into tears over the smallest things."
"I often advised my brother to be patient…"
"What happened next?"
Wei Xusheng frowned.
"That day, the maid was off, and as soon as my brother got home, he heard the baby wailing uncontrollably."
"The neighbors rushed over too. The child had fallen down the stairs, his face covered in blood… The stairs in their house were unusually high—a fall like that could’ve been fatal…"
The child was taken to the hospital by ambulance, and the neighbors immediately called the police.
"While they were still at the hospital, the police arrived. A one-year-old who couldn’t even walk—how could he have climbed the stairs and fallen on his own?"
"Eventually, my brother divorced her."
"Even wild beasts wouldn’t harm their own offspring. Who’d have thought a mother could do such a thing to her child? I heard my brother never visited her again, but he still hired a lawyer for her during the trial. In the end, he was too soft-hearted."
"I don’t know how you’re investigating, but you’re suspecting me of murder? You should be looking into her! I heard she’s already out of prison—someone capable of hurting her own son—"
"She has a criminal record, while my brother? Thriving, doing charity work on TV. Who wouldn’t feel resentful?"
Uncle Li and Zhu Qing exchanged glances, their gazes lingering on Wei Xusheng’s face before looking away.
The interrogation room fell silent for a long while, the only sound the scratching of pen on paper.
...
At 3 PM in the CID office, officers were reviewing the newly retrieved child abuse case files.
"Postpartum depression?" Liang Qikai flipped through the medical records. "The diagnosis was emotional instability, but the media sensationalized it as violent tendencies, calling her the ‘Viper Mother’ in headlines."
A gruesome photo was tucked inside the file—a baby covered in bruises. The sight left everyone speechless. Little Sun couldn’t bear to look and gently placed the photo back on the table.
"Sentenced to ten years, released last year," Little Sun skimmed the verdict. "Wei Huasheng cooled down later and even wrote a letter of forgiveness, pleading with the judge, saying they were both philanthropists. But the judge didn’t buy it, calling it an attempt to influence the court with charity."
"The defense lawyer even argued that the child was too young and needed his mother’s care…"
"What kind of lawyer is that? After what happened, who’d trust that woman with a child?"
"Every argument was dismissed in court. A one-year-old is inherently vulnerable—no judge or jury would side with the abuser."
"That poor child…"
The office was dead silent, everyone staring at the photo in shock.
"Social workers must’ve tracked her post-release," Mo Zhenbang said. "The Social Welfare Department would have records. Find her current address."
"By the way, we found this." Xu Jiale pulled a document from the file. "An obituary issued by the toy company eight years ago."
Zeng Yongshan took it and read softly, "Wei Feiyang, a beloved child, passed away due to illness…"
"The abuse case mentioned the child was hospitalized with severe injuries," Hao Zai said. "I thought he didn’t make it… Turns out he held on for two more years."
A murmur spread through the office.
Someone whispered, "If that’s the case, doesn’t that ‘Amazing Dad’ note seem eerie?"
"What’s eerie about it? You think the kid wrote it? He was barely old enough to hold a pen back then."
"I heard that side hall was where people used to bring clothes to pray for deceased children. The killer chose that exact spot… Do you think the victim went there to mourn? Or was he lured?" Hao Zai rubbed his arms. "Just thinking about it gives me chills."
Xu Jiale smacked the back of his head with a file. "Enough. You’ll get scolded."
Mo Zhenbang shot Hao Zai a glare. "What’s the forensics report say?"
"It came in this morning." Zhu Qing handed him the file. "The handwriting is recent—ink analysis suggests it’s less than a month old. The strokes are heavy, lines unsteady, spacing and structure consistent with a child aged five to seven."
After reviewing the findings, Mo Zhenbang assigned tasks.
"Focus on three leads: track down the victim’s ex-wife."
"Keep following up on the brother’s alibi."
"And that handwriting. Check if Wei Huasheng had any children that age—relatives, friends, neighbors. Don’t miss anyone."
He glanced at Wei Xusheng’s statement and added, "Wei Xusheng has a daughter. Verify her age and compare the handwriting."
...
Afternoon sunlight streamed into the Weston Kindergarten classroom, where the toddlers had just woken from their nap. They sat quietly, like a flock of dazed sparrows, hair tousled, rubbing sleepy eyes with tiny fists.
"My mommy says no rubbing eyes!" Little Mei suddenly announced.
As the daughter of an ophthalmologist, she’d become the class’s little doctor. "It spreads germs and can hurt your cornea."
The kids obediently placed their hands back on their knees, their sleepy faces adorably earnest. Teacher Ji watched, unable to suppress a smile.
The peace, of course, didn’t last long.
Soon, the classroom buzzed with its usual energy.
In the play area, Sheng Fang wandered near the handmade teaching aids and picked up a flashcard.
"Freeze!" He raised it like a badge. "CID Senior Inspector!"
Juan mimicked him, grabbing another card. "CIC!"
"Silly Juan!"
In the past, when the word "idiot" was thrown around, Juan would have immediately rushed to Teacher Ji with his little hand raised to tattle. But somehow, he had stopped being a snitch.
"You're the idiot, Sheng Fang," he retorted.
Sheng Fang: "It's ICAC!"
Juan adjusted his glasses and corrected himself: "ICAC!"
Even though Juan still didn’t know what the Independent Commission Against Corruption actually did, he had asked his parents about it the night before, and they both agreed it was the perfect career for him.
Now, Juan was a child with dreams, his small eyes sparkling behind his glasses.
The two kids sat on the floor in the play area, playing their "badge-flashing" game over and over.
Meanwhile, the other children chattered excitedly about the party they’d had at Sheng Fang’s house the day before.
"We had fries, burgers, and crispy chicken legs! Aunt Ping can cook anything—it was sooo good!"
"Fang Fang has a whole wall of Transformers at his house!"
"And his Ultraman toy actually talks..."
"Too bad there weren’t any Barbie dolls," Little Yesi sighed, tilting her head thoughtfully before adding seriously, "Next time, we should make sure my niece goes home early."
Her niece was way more fun than any Barbie—she’d played with her before!
Listening to all this, the kids who had missed the party because of extracurricular classes looked like they were about to cry.
"You can come next time!" Yesi quickly reassured them. "Big Sis is happy to have us."
Instantly, the children erupted into chatter, clamoring to sign up for the next party.
Even Teacher Ji got caught up in the excitement and asked with a smile, "Can Teacher Ji join next time too?"
The air froze for a few seconds.
The kids exchanged glances, silently debating—does anyone actually like playing with their teacher?
After a moment, they all shook their heads in unison.
"No."
Teacher Ji didn’t take it to heart and turned away to prepare snacks.
Just as she was arranging pastries and milk on trays, a few little ones quietly crept up to her.
"Don’t be sad, Teacher," Little Yesi said softly.
Jin Bao wasn’t good with words, so he just nodded emphatically.
Sheng Fang added in his tiny voice, "Teacher can play with her own friends."
Teacher Ji ruffled their little heads.
These kids—one second they had her at her wit’s end, and the next, they warmed her heart.
……
For adults, promises made in passing often fade into the background of daily life.
But for children, the world is small, and every word carries weight.
In Sheng Fang’s little world, Zhu Qing occupied a huge space. The promise she’d made to take him for Typhoon Shelter Crab had taken root in his heart—a precious vow he’d probably been waiting for forever.
So, she couldn’t let him down.
Zhu Qing wasn’t sure when she’d finish work, but judging by today’s progress, she wouldn’t have to pull an all-nighter. She’d mentioned the crab plan to Zeng Yongshan, and somehow, word spread like wildfire. By lunchtime, her colleagues were already buzzing with excitement.
"I’m coming too!" Hao Zai declared. "Last night I only got a few bites of fried rice, and today’s lunch was even worse—just a sandwich during fieldwork. You have to take me for Typhoon Shelter Crab!"
"Count me in—"
"Me too!"
"I know this amazing old-school place. I’ll call and book a table right now."
The office instantly came alive.
Weng Zhaolin emerged for his usual "patrol," standing at the CID room entrance like a homeroom teacher, listening in.
Then he strode in, hands behind his back, scanning the room with a stern expression.
"What’s all this about eating?" he demanded. "Case closed?"
A chorus of groans rose from the workstations.
"Sir, even if the case isn’t solved, we still need to eat, right?"
"No food means no energy. Efficiency drops."
"A man’s gotta eat..."
Weng Zhaolin rolled his eyes. "Cut the excuses."
"Sir," Zhu Qing suddenly spoke up, "are you coming?"
The reprimand on Weng Zhaolin’s lips stalled.
As their superior, going would mean footing the bill.
He cleared his throat. "I’m busy."
With that, he turned and left, his retreat slightly hurried.
The team shot Zhu Qing impressed looks.
Uncle Li shook his head in amusement—these guys were a bad influence on the newbies.
The officers of CID Team B saved their appetites, finally wrapping up work by 7:40 p.m.
Xu Jiale had already thoughtfully reserved a table.
"Zhu Qing, mind if I hitch a ride?" Zeng Yongshan grinned. "Let’s go pick up your little officer."
What had started as Zhu Qing keeping a promise to her little uncle had turned into a full Team B outing.
Xu Jiale and Hao Zai squeezed into Zhu Qing’s car with Zeng Yongshan, while the others decided to head home first to shower and change before meeting up.
The black SUV rolled out of the Yau Ma Tei Police Station.
The route home was one Zhu Qing knew by heart.
But tonight, the familiar streets seemed livelier, animated by the laughter filling the car.
……
Sheng Peirong, with time to spare, had drawn up a study plan for her little brother.
At four years old, he couldn’t afford to waste time. She’d researched curriculums and was about to enroll him in more classes—until Sheng Fang vehemently protested.
Since he refused outside lessons, she settled for home tutoring, asking Aunt Ping to buy all kinds of board games. Yet, the only one that caught his eye was the brightly colored Snakes and Ladders.
Now, in the living room, Sheng Fang shook the dice, locked in a silent battle with his big sister.
At first, he’d been all in—but slowly, he realized even this simple game was unwinnable against her.
"Not fair," Sheng Fang puffed up like an angry blowfish before flopping onto the carpet. "Big Sis cheated."
Sheng Peirong poked his chubby cheek. "Aunt Ping, who’s the cheater here?"
"Aunt Ping will take your side," Sheng Fang huffed, scrambling up to gather the board game and hide it.
Somewhere Big Sis would never find it!
After stashing the game, he plopped back down in front of her. "Poor Fang Fang."
The little boy’s face was the picture of grievance—but he still remembered to act cute.
Sheng Peirong burst out laughing.
A car engine rumbled in the courtyard.
Sheng Fang blinked, looking outside.
"Sheng Fang," Zhu Qing’s voice called, "let’s go for supper."
His eyes lit up like little lightbulbs, and before he could process it, his short legs were already carrying him out the door.
Faces peeked out from the car windows, waving at Sheng Peirong and Aunt Ping.
Aunt Ping smiled warmly.
She had seen Zhu Qing in her earliest days—a true ice queen of a policewoman. But now, she was gradually becoming more approachable, even blending in seamlessly with her colleagues.
"Is Sheng Fang still our pitiful little one?" Sheng Peirong asked with a smile.
Aunt Ping watched the cheerful figure of the young boy darting away. "Now he's our happy little Fang."
The impromptu late-night snack gathering after overtime at the police station was arranged just for little Fang.
About ten minutes later, they settled into a bustling open-air food stall, where a plate of fragrant stir-fried crab sat before them. Sheng Fang's beaming smile was enough to melt anyone's heart.
The aroma of the crab filled the air as dish after dish was brought to the table.
Fang ate nonstop, his little mouth stuffed full, while the chatter of officers discussing the case buzzed around him.
"Honestly, both the victim's younger brother and his ex-wife are suspicious. With Wei Huasheng dead, Wei Xusheng stands to gain the most. A few thousand or even tens of thousands in loans meant nothing to him before, but now he inherits his brother's entire company. For that kind of profit, he’d have more than enough motive."
"And then there’s the ex-wife. Back then, she was capable of harming her own one-year-old child—her own flesh and blood! Now that she’s out of prison, with a criminal record and getting older, life must be tough for her. Seeing her ex-husband living so lavishly, it’s not impossible she’d want revenge."
The stir-fried crab was so fragrant, even the shells were crispy.
"Sheng Fang, don’t eat the crab shell."
"Too late," Fang said, patting his little belly. "It’s already in here."
The boy crunched the shell between his teeth with a loud snap.
He listened intently to the adults' conversation, as if watching the most thrilling cop drama. His chubby little hands clumsily pried open a crab claw, shook out the sweet meat, and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Qing, it’s been so long since I cracked a case!" Fang raised his greasy little hand. "Can you assign me a mission?"
Everyone burst into laughter.
"Little Officer, is your direct supervisor your niece?"
"Our boss is Mo Zhenbang, but Little Officer’s boss is Zhu Qing..."
When the topic shifted to the delayed forensic report, Fang’s head swiveled back and forth between the speakers.
"Doctor Ye is really taking his time this round."
"Word is his daughter’s running a fever, so he’s tied up."
"Ah, the good old days when we’d get the autopsy report by dawn the next day..."
Little Fang had something to say about every subject.
Gnawing on a crab leg, he let out a sigh like a seasoned adult. "I miss Doctor Cheng too."
...
Early the next morning, as soon as Zhu Qing arrived at the station, she received updated files on Wei Huasheng’s ex-wife.
She and Uncle Li immediately drove to the Social Welfare Department, where they met Miss Lu, the social worker assigned to Huang Qiulian’s case.
"Officers," Miss Lu said, pulling out the file. "Huang Qiulian is currently working as a cleaner at the community center. I can take you there."
Five minutes later, Miss Lu climbed into the police car and directed them.
The car rolled to a stop at the edge of the community center.
"That’s her—the one in the gray uniform," Miss Lu said, pointing to a figure sweeping fallen leaves in the distance.
"Our welfare support policy aims to give reformed individuals a second chance, helping them reintegrate into society while ensuring community safety."
"Cases like Huang Qiulian’s are tough. Forty-one years old, with a criminal record."
"We tried placing her in several jobs. Right after her release last year, she washed dishes at a diner, but word got out about her past."
Miss Lu continued, "It wasn’t until July this year that we secured this position for her at the community center. The pay is low, but it includes meals and lodging. We check in monthly, and the supervisor says she’s doing well."
Through the car window, they watched Huang Qiulian.
Just then, a ball rolled to her feet.
A boy with bright, eager eyes chased after it but was abruptly stopped by a caretaker.
Huang Qiulian immediately stepped back, her gaze dropping awkwardly to the ground.
"This is a joint event with the Harmony Children’s Development Center. All the kids here have special needs."
Only then did Zhu Qing notice the details—the boy was about fifteen or sixteen, his eyes unusually pure and focused.
"Huang Qiulian knows her boundaries. She never approaches them."
"Of course, neither the community nor the center would let her interact with the children. Given her history of child abuse, it’s too sensitive. If this event had been planned earlier, the center might not have even allowed her to stay."
The boy was led away by the caretaker, though he kept glancing back, his face etched with innocent confusion.
Silence lingered in the car for a moment.
"She was released early for good behavior," Miss Lu said, hesitating. "But we’ve seen cases like hers before... Many struggle to adjust and end up..."
She couldn’t help asking, "Has Huang Qiulian done something again?"
Miss Lu sounded both regretful and resigned.
Uncle Li flipped through the welfare records. "How’s her conduct here?"
"Very disciplined," Miss Lu replied. "Should I call her over?"
Zhu Qing exchanged a glance with Uncle Li.
Following Mo Zhenbang’s orders, they weren’t to alert the suspect yet.
"Not for now," Zhu Qing said. "Can you provide her work schedule for the last three months?"
In the distance, Huang Qiulian kept sweeping, oblivious to the police car parked in the corner.
As they watched her solitary figure, the officers couldn’t help recalling the injuries documented in the child abuse case files. No one spoke for a long time.
...
By the time Zhu Qing returned to the station, it was already afternoon.
Sitting at her desk, she reopened the case files.
The yellowed newspaper clippings about the child abuse case still radiated the same fury and shock from years ago.
Huang Qiulian, a 31-year-old middle school teacher with six years of experience. No one could have imagined she’d push her own one-year-old son down the stairs.
The trial had been swift, public outrage unanimous.
In one corner of the clipping, a parent was quoted in an interview, voicing outrage—
"How could we ever trust our children to a teacher like her?"
Beside it, the school’s sternly worded statement stood out.
Zhu Qing’s finger paused on one paragraph.
The child’s father, Wei Huasheng, had also been a prime suspect initially, but he was eventually cleared.
Around her, colleagues’ fragmented discussions drifted in.
"Wei Xusheng really was playing mahjong that afternoon—his friends confirmed it, and the pager records back it up. But here’s the thing... the game started at 3:30 PM, while the victim’s time of death was around 3 PM."
"Then again, last night he seemed perfectly fine. All that grief at the morgue was just an act. After—"
After leaving the police station, he headed straight to Portland Street and drank until dawn before returning home.
"Can you blame him for being happy? With his brother dead, the entire inheritance is his now."
Zhu Qing's finger paused on one page of the case file, her brow furrowing slightly.
Just then, the office door swung open as Zeng Yongshan and Little Sun hurried in.
Little Sun was holding up a document.
"The deceased left a will before his death."
Everyone looked up.
"All assets..." Zeng Yongshan hesitated, "...were left to his son."
"His son?"
"But wasn't his son already dead?"
...
Sheng Peirong wasn't using her wheelchair today.
She never missed her twice-weekly rehabilitation sessions. With time to spare after leaving the care facility, she went straight to Weston Kindergarten in Kowloon Tong.
Stepping out of the car, Sheng Peirong gazed toward the kindergarten gates.
Her steps were slow but steady.
"Is little brother studying here?"
"If the young master knew you came to pick him up, he'd be overjoyed."
Aunt Ping hovered protectively at Sheng Peirong's sides, ready to catch her if needed.
Truth be told, Sheng Peirong's recovery had been remarkable. Aunt Ping both hoped she'd return to the Sheng family as the children's strongest support and wished she'd rest longer.
The kindergarten entrance was crowded with parents waiting for their children.
From a distance, Sheng Peirong spotted her little brother.
Tiny Sheng Fang, dwarfed by his oversized backpack, stood in line, his head swiveling curiously.
Then his eyes locked onto something—and lit up.
"Big sister!!!"
Every head at the entrance turned.
His high-pitched child's voice rang out clear and bright as his little legs pumped furiously, charging through the crowd.
Aunt Ping gasped.
His sister had only just regained her ability to walk—how could she withstand such an enthusiastic tackle?
"Young master! No!"
Aunt Ping's warning came out nearly shrill.
But before she finished, little Fang Fang screeched to a perfect halt.
Instead of throwing himself at her, he tilted his head up sweetly. "Big sister, this is the first time you've come to get me."
Without waiting for an answer, Sheng Fang turned around.
He began loudly announcing to every passing child, parent, and even the school bus driver parked nearby:
"This is my big sister."
"Want to come see my big sister?"
With enthusiastic hospitality, the little boy bowed slightly. "Wel—come!"
