The McDonald’s near the municipal bureau was a large one, one of the earliest company-owned locations in Xiarong City. Over the past twenty-some years, the store had undergone several renovations and now included a children’s play area.

Families living nearby loved to bring their kids here. Being so close to the city bureau, it was considered the safest McDonald’s in the entire city.

The ordering area was crowded with noisy children. The adults were there just to pay, except for Ling Lie—an oversized “kid” himself—whose eyes were even brighter than those of many of the actual children as he stared at the menu.

Ji Chenjiao couldn’t stand the noise and initially stood far away by the window seats. After Ling Lie made his choice and turned around, he didn’t see him, and a hint of confusion flickered across his face.

He couldn’t find Ji Chenjiao, but Ji Chenjiao had been watching him the whole time. He raised a hand to signal that he hadn’t left.

The confusion in Ling Lie’s expression vanished, as if it had never existed. He walked over with a smile. “You’re hiding here? I thought you chickened out and left.”

Ji Chenjiao replied, “Too noisy.”

“Well, we still have to order together,” Ling Lie said practically. “You said you’re treating. If you’re not around, am I supposed to treat myself?”

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

Back in front of the menu, Ling Lie quickly ordered a Spicy Chicken Wings Bucket, three Spicy Chicken Sandwiches, and was about to continue when Ji Chenjiao asked sincerely, “Can you really eat three burgers?”

“One of them is for you,” Ling Lie replied.

Ji Chenjiao politely declined the calorie bomb that is Western fast food. “Just order for yourself. I’m not eating.”

Ling Lie didn’t remove the extra burger. He turned back to the menu board, seemingly deep in thought about what else to order.

It was incredibly noisy around them, and Ji Chenjiao couldn’t help but urge Ling Lie to hurry. Ling Lie turned and looked at him. “But the best thing here is the Spicy Chicken Sandwich. I can’t think of anything else that’s comparable.”

“I said I’m not eating.”

“So you’re just gonna watch me eat? That’s awkward.”

“…Fine, go ahead and order.”

Ling Lie cheerfully added Coke, fries, and an egg tart before combining everything for checkout.

After paying, Ji Chenjiao swiftly retreated to the window seat and started scrolling on his phone. Before long, a mountain of food was heavily placed in front of him. Just imagining how much exercise it would take to burn that off made him frown.

Ji Chenjiao looked up, only for his eyelid to twitch. Ling Lie had somehow acquired a pointy party hat and was wearing it slightly askew. With a movement, the hat slipped off.

Quick reflexes saved Ji Chenjiao’s Coke from being speared by the falling hat.

“Thanks.” Ling Lie took back the hat and put it back on. Then he rummaged through the food mountain and pulled out a toy.

Ji Chenjiao understood. “This was for the toy?”

Ling Lie tossed the toy aside. “Just a bonus. I like eating McDonald’s.”

Somehow, Ji Chenjiao could hear a trace of disdain in his tone, as if coming to McDonald’s just for the toy was something only kids did—adults came for the food.

Ji Chenjiao was speechless. He didn’t know where this bizarre hierarchy of contempt came from—especially considering that the one showing this disdain was currently wearing a pointy kid’s hat.

Although the order was for two, Ji Chenjiao only nibbled at the veggies inside one burger and ate one chicken wing.

Ling Lie looked at his dainty eating style with dissatisfaction. “You cops eat this little—how do you catch criminals?”

Ji Chenjiao replied, “I don’t like high-calorie food.”

Ling Lie said with regret, “That’s a real shame.”

Seeing him pull all the food over to his side like a squirrel hoarding nuts, Ji Chenjiao snarked, “That ‘regret’ of yours sounds a little fake.”

Ling Lie was utterly shameless. “I’m packing it up to take home later.”

By the time they were ready to leave, Ling Lie had only eaten one of the three burgers. Of the remaining two, one was untouched, the other had its lettuce eaten by Ji Chenjiao.

Watching him pack the food, Ji Chenjiao asked, “So you can only eat one at a time?”

“Yup. I order three—one for each of us, and one to take home.”

Smooth calculation. Ji Chenjiao laughed.

“Even better now. I get to take home two.”

Ji Chenjiao looked at the one missing lettuce. He hadn’t even touched the bun while eating—it was Ling Lie who lifted the top so he could grab the lettuce inside. Still, since he’d eaten it, handing it back felt weird.

“I’ll take that one,” Ji Chenjiao said.

“You want it?” Ling Lie’s hands paused mid-pack. This time, the disappointment in his voice seemed genuine.

Ji Chenjiao was even more speechless. Was a burger really worth being this sad over?

In the end, Ling Lie reluctantly gave up the burger missing lettuce.

Night had fallen. Ji Chenjiao unconsciously followed Ling Lie back toward the residential compound. As they passed the security booth, the on-duty Uncle Wang called out, “Xiao Ling’s back!” Then, spotting Ji Chenjiao, added, “Oh, Xiao Ji’s back too!” That’s when Ji Chenjiao remembered—he no longer lived here.

Ling Lie asked, “Uncle Wang, did you get any river snails?”

Uncle Wang said, “Sure did! Had my wife cook up a pot. Smells great!”

Ling Lie walked over and began chatting with Uncle Wang about the best way to simmer river snails so they were both springy and flavorful. Ji Chenjiao listened for a while and rolled his eyes inwardly. Ling Lie had only been living here for a few days and had already become the “market expert” for all the aunties and uncles. Especially with seasonal foods like snails, mud loaches, and wild mushrooms—he always managed to find the best and cheapest.

So this was the result of his nighttime strolls?

After the chat, Ling Lie looked back and saw Ji Chenjiao still standing there. “Captain Ji, want to come upstairs for a bit?”

Ji Chenjiao replied icily, “That’s my house.”

Ling Lie corrected himself, “Then, are you going to do a room inspection?”

Ji Chenjiao: “…”

The two of them walked in opposite directions from the security booth. As Ji Chenjiao crossed the street, he couldn’t help glancing back. Ling Lie was under the warm glow of the streetlamp, swinging the bag in his hand, hopping a little as he walked—his very silhouette radiated joy.

Ji Chenjiao muttered to himself, “What’s he so happy about?”

Ling Lie hummed a tune as he opened the door. He set the bag on the dining table, turned on only the living room and bathroom lights, took a ten-minute shower, turned off the lights, and pulled a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. He sat on the balcony and began unwrapping the food by the glow of the streetlights outside.

He was getting hungry again.

Just as he took out a chicken wing, his phone buzzed. He looked at the screen—no caller ID.

He didn’t answer. Leisurely finished a wing, wiped his hands—and the phone buzzed again, as if waiting for his hands to be free.

He finally answered. “Captain Shen.”

A magnetic male voice came from the other side. “How have you been lately?”

Ling Lie replied, “If that’s it, I’m hanging up.”

“Since when did you lose the patience to even let someone finish a sentence?” the man said. “You run into trouble in Xiarong City?”

“No trouble. I believe in the police.”

“Tch. When are you coming back to work?”

Ling Lie tore open a chili powder packet with his teeth and said mercilessly, “Not going back. My ‘debt’ is paid. I’m living the good life now.”

“Living the good life means eating McDonald’s every day?”

“You spying on me?”

This time, before the man could say anything more, Ling Lie hung up decisively. He finished the chicken wings like a whirlwind, washed his hands clean, glanced at the toy, and tossed it into a cardboard box in the corner. Inside were many other toys from value meals—he hadn’t thrown them away when he moved, but he wasn’t exactly treasuring them either.

Meanwhile, Ji Chenjiao returned home planning to cook chicken breast with tomato slices and whole-wheat bread. But he had been too busy recently and had just moved in—only brought a few changes of clothes, hadn’t even plugged in the fridge. No ingredients at all.

He couldn’t cook, and his usual healthy takeout place didn’t deliver to this area. Staring at the cold burger on the coffee table, Ji Chenjiao picked it up—then put it down. Picked it up again—then put it down again. Finally, he went to shower first.

He’d been running on empty lately, and skipping a meal made his stomach protest fiercely. Bare-chested, a towel draped over his head, he returned to the coffee table. The smell of the burger was wafting shamelessly.

His brow twitched. Unable to hold back anymore, he grabbed the burger and devoured it, then threw the wrapper into the trash in frustration.

He’d actually been to that McDonald’s once, a long time ago.

Reclining on the sofa to digest, Ji Chenjiao was pulled into a memory—one that often came after a full meal.

Since childhood, he’d been a particularly disciplined person. The orphanage had limited supplies. Some bigger, stronger boys would snatch food from the smaller kids when the staff weren’t looking. He only ever ate what was allotted to him.

Because he was taller than most boys his age and always wore a cold expression, looking hard to mess with, the bullying boys would sometimes “offer” him stolen food.

He was tempted, but he always returned it to the crying girls.

Later, a couple came to the orphanage hoping to adopt a kind and upright child. The director brought him out immediately.

He didn’t consider himself upright—he just followed the rules. Every child had a set amount of food per day, and he was used to obeying that.

He was only seven then, but already vaguely understood: stepping outside the rules might expose you to cruel and unimaginable things.

His adoptive parents were well-off businesspeople. The mother, Zhou Yun, was infertile. They had come to Xiarong City from the neighboring city to adopt a child.

Back then, Western fast food was just becoming popular and wildly adored by kids. On weekends, McDonald’s, KFC, and Dicos were packed.

Adoption required a series of procedures, and the director mentioned that in his three years at the orphanage, he’d never once visited the city.

So the couple didn’t take him home right away. They booked a hotel for a week and took him around Xiarong City every day, returning him to the orphanage at night.

Part of it was to help him remember the city he had lived in for three—maybe even more—years. Part of it was to let him say a proper goodbye to his friends.

His adoptive parents liked him very much. Other kids had McDonald’s—he should too.

He had been taken to the largest McDonald’s in Xiarong City—right next to the municipal police bureau. His adoptive mother, worried he wouldn’t get enough to eat, nearly ordered everything on the menu.

But he wasn’t tempted by the aroma of food. Acting like a little adult, he said, “That’s too much. I won’t be able to finish it, and it’ll go to waste.”

His adoptive mother patted his adoptive father and smiled. “It won’t be wasted. If Chengcheng can’t finish, Uncle will take care of it.”

Back then, he was called Xia Chengshi—a name given to him at the orphanage. “Xia” came from Xiarong City, and “Chengshi” (meaning honesty) was a blessing from the orphanage director.

When it was time to register his household, his adoptive father, Ji Nocheng, asked for his input and changed his name to Chen Jiao—not a dragon that churned clouds and calls the wind, but a jiao that sinks quietly into the ordinary.

His adoptive parents also considered that he was already seven years old—suddenly gaining a set of parents might be hard to adapt to—so they didn’t insist he call them Mom and Dad right away.

Even now, he was deeply grateful for their kindness and care.

However, there was one thing he felt his adoptive parents had misunderstood.

They had heard from the orphanage director that he was an honest child and believed he was the one they were looking for. Over the years, he had grown just as they hoped—even becoming a police officer who represented justice.

But he wasn’t born righteous. Quite the opposite—when he was younger, he often had urges to do bad things. If the director hadn’t been strict, he might have pushed some of those noisy boys down the stairs.

Influenced by those close to him, he seemed to have been shaped by the uprightness of his adoptive parents.

Since coming to this new home, those sticky, dark emotions had gradually lessened—and now, years had passed without them resurfacing.

That day, he didn’t finish the McDonald’s meal his adoptive parents bought. His adoptive father helped by eating two chicken wings and repeatedly said he didn’t like the taste.

Then he saw a dirty little boy outside the glass wall, staring hungrily at the table full of food.

Before he’d been sent to the orphanage, he too had once fainted from hunger. The little boy looked at him, and he looked back.

His adoptive mother immediately put the untouched chicken wings into a clean box and gently asked, “Chengcheng, would you like to give these to that little brother?”

He nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

It was a chilly spring rain. Holding the box, he went out. But as soon as the child saw him, he turned and ran. He quickly chased after him and handed the food over.

The child had been wary at first, but hunger won out. He grabbed the box and began gobbling the wings, crumbs of crispy skin and chili flakes falling all over him.

“Don’t you have a home?” he asked.

The boy, mouth full of chicken, mumbled something unintelligible.

He thought the boy was probably like he used to be—kidnapped by traffickers and unable to remember his home or parents.

When the boy was nearly finished, he asked, “Do you know Lily Fragrance Welfare Home?”

The child blinked and shook his head blankly.

He stood up and pointed north. “Walk that way. Just keep going straight. The director will take you in.”

He never knew whether the boy made it to the orphanage. Even after he moved away from Xiarong City with his adoptive parents, he never saw the boy again.

After graduating from the police academy, he returned to Xiarong City. One time, while investigating a case in the northern district, he suddenly remembered the now-demolished orphanage—and realized that the orphanage on the northern outskirts and that McDonald’s near the police bureau were twenty kilometers apart. How could that child have possibly walked there?

Ending his reminiscence, Ji Chenjiao thought of how he’d rushed back to Xiarong City from Luzhang County because of the Tang Xiaofei case. He’d thrown his luggage aside, and when he opened the mostly empty bag, a box fell out.

It was a sunglasses case.

Inside lay a dried foxtail grass.

Ji Chenjiao picked it up and twirled it gently. The little tuft at the end swayed, like Ling Lie’s small ponytail.

Suddenly, Ji Chenjiao remembered Ling Lie once explained why he loved chicken wings—because when he was a child, he nearly starved to death, and a rich little “young master” had shared some wings with him.

He and Ling Lie…

Impossible. When he gave that child the chicken wings, he had also been from an orphanage. How could he have been a rich kid? And that child had needed to go to an orphanage, whereas Ling Lie had at least still had his parents.

Ji Chenjiao twirled the foxtail grass a little more, then placed it inside a thick book, pressing it between the pages. After that, he replied to a few messages and suddenly noticed the smart appliance icon on his phone. A mischievous thought crossed his mind.

Even from several kilometers away, he could turn on the air conditioner and other smart devices in that family housing apartment.

Ling Lie was lying contentedly on the couch, limbs sprawled. Suddenly, the living room lights turned on. Next, the air conditioner roared to life, blasting hot air.

He sat up with a jolt. The ceiling lights shut off, but the spotlights, balcony, and study lights all switched on. The smart speaker began playing dance music, and the AC fan spun wildly, blowing straight at him.

Ling Lie, who normally never turned on the lights when home alone, was momentarily blinded by the disco-like scene. After a brief moment of confusion, he realized what was happening and calmly walked to the router, pulling the plug.

With no internet, Ji Chenjiao could no longer control the smart appliances remotely. He let out a satisfied sigh, though slightly regretful.

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Author’s Note:

Ling Lie: Now can you guess who I really am?