44. Danger Draws Ever Closer

Whether Bai Haonan had engaged in any “physical activities” with Sister Mai, only he himself knew. Anyway, when he stood again by the sidelines of the Medical University’s football field the next afternoon, he was still alone, but the number of spectators had increased noticeably.

There was still more than a week left before the end of summer break, so there weren’t many students around to watch out of curiosity. The female students, nurses, and family members of medical staff who had initially come to watch, swept up in the early excitement, had gradually faded away. After all, the training had lasted for over a month; unless someone was truly passionate about football, few could sit and watch with sustained interest. Yet today, the two teams were playing their first official scrimmage, which reactivated various resources from their respective institutions. Bai Haonan had originally just mentioned holding a match to adjust the team’s mood, but it turned out his part-time administrative assistant took it seriously. Upon hearing about the game, the assistant arranged for a banner to be put up, invited leaders from both sides to attend, organized cheerleaders, and announced this was a rehearsal for future competitions within the healthcare system.

This turned the whole event into quite a spectacle. There were even two inflatable red columns by the podium, hung with couplets praising the “white-clad angels” for their heroic spirit. Bai Haonan had initially scoffed at such theatrics, but he had to admit that the administrative assistant—whom he’d never really regarded highly—had a knack for climbing the ranks; he could turn even something so minor into a noteworthy accomplishment.

Even the company that provided the enzyme supplements was brought in to explain themselves—after all, they’d spent money over the past month. It served as a sort of mid-term business review: the higher-ups could see where the funds had gone, recall it when signing off, and approve payment without hesitation.

Bai Haonan could only nod in admiration. He understood none of these things, so when the assistant summoned him to meet and shake hands with the leaders, he felt keenly that he would always be someone else’s pawn.

As soon as the handshake was over, a large group suddenly surged over. Bai Haonan’s first instinct was almost to turn and run—they were all in police uniforms!

But the leader at the front had an unmistakably commanding presence and a booming voice: “Old Gou! Haven’t seen you in ages… fate brings us together today!”

The “secretary” who’d just shaken hands with Bai Haonan turned in surprise to greet him. “Old Deng, it’s really been years. You’re well, I hope? Here for a check-up?”

Someone by the police leader’s side whispered to him, and he called over Bai Haonan. “That’s right! I’m actually here because of your subordinate. Come, come, you’re the coach, Liu Hao, right? Old Gou, perhaps you don’t know this, given your many responsibilities: this coach of yours, after my patrol team was struck by a car, immediately began rescuing people. Five officers and a civilian—two of them could’ve died if help had come any later. One of them was old Guo, remember? Back when I was in the street office and you were running the outpatient clinic, that young man from my precinct, the one who’d been shot—didn’t you treat him? He’s now a mid-career cadre with a family. If not for your subordinate, he wouldn’t have survived. So today I came to see them, heard about the daily training, and naturally had to come express my gratitude.”

Leader Gou obviously hadn’t known about this minor incident. He glanced back at Bai Haonan with a more benevolent and open smile. “Of course, of course. The wounded are in the inpatient ward, right? I’ll arrange a visit right away.”

Leader Deng shifted his attention with a smile. “It’s all been taken care of—they’ve all recovered. I just came to say thanks. Young Liu, they told me what happened: in such a critical moment, you didn’t harbor any resentment even though you’d just been disciplined by law enforcement. Instead, you stepped up immediately. That’s a rare quality, one many people struggle to maintain in extreme situations. And then you calmly provided leads, showing intelligence and character. That is why I felt the need to thank you in person. I hope you’ll continue to abide by the law. Drunk driving can have serious consequences—since you already have such a solid foundation, don’t let a small mistake trip you up. Set your sights higher.”

Bai Haonan was twenty-eight now. Bai Lianjun and Old Chen had dominated nearly his entire upbringing, though in two separate phases. What kind of profound life lessons could you expect from two coaches at a mediocre sports school? Their primary method of education was always physical correction, not heartfelt advice. Chen Sufen’s mother, on the other hand, was a typical city woman: petty and sharp-tongued, but also fond of cooking him bamboo shoots with pork. Now, this police leader, who so clearly commanded respect, was holding Bai Haonan’s hand and offering genuine words of wisdom. Bai Haonan was dumbstruck and at a loss for words: “I…”

He felt a lump in his throat—it was clear the man meant well. And yet, the first person to ever seriously lecture him about life was a policeman! A policeman to whom he could never, ever reveal the truth.

The speech had struck him as insightful, but he didn’t really understand it. He wanted to ask questions but didn’t know where to begin. The more he said, the more attention he would draw, and if someone started looking into his background, his cover might be blown. So in the end, all he could do was keep silent.

Of course, to those watching, it just looked like he’d been moved—basking in the aura of a powerful leader. The police officers applauded enthusiastically, joined by the medical college staff. Then, with a smile, Leader Deng stepped aside. A female officer strode up, her movements crisp and forceful, and presented a bouquet of flowers before saluting. “Thank you for your support of the people’s police!”

Bai Haonan jumped—this policewoman was towering! On every application he’d ever filled out, he’d listed his height as 1.82 meters—a perfect height for a defender—but standing before this woman in her navy-blue police uniform, he felt a real sense of intimidation.

He wasn’t sure whether it was the uniform or her actual stature, but in that moment, Bai Haonan struggled to breathe. She didn’t look burly at all; on the contrary, the slightly tailored shirt accentuated a slender frame, but she was just so tall. She felt like a longsword standing upright in front of him, and all his petty instincts made him feel small and uneasy. For once, confronted with a woman, he didn’t even look at her face—he simply took the bouquet and prepared to flee.

No sooner had he received the flowers than several camera flashes went off around him! Ah, this must be for some sort of institutional publicity. Having attended plenty of such events back in his club days, Bai Haonan tried to shield his profile with the bouquet. The female officer’s hand, as firm as a steel vise, refused to let go. For the first time ever, Bai Haonan found himself being pulled along by a woman and didn’t even dare resist—utterly pathetic.

The two of them had to stand side by side, hands linked, facing the cameras. The leaders led the applause. Bai Haonan felt like he was witnessing one of those wedding ceremonies—a pair of fools bowing to heaven and earth. And all the photographers were police officers, which only made his smile more twisted and forced as he squinted, trying to obscure his features as much as possible.

Fortunately, the ordeal lasted only a moment. Amid applause and laughter, the “newlyweds”—no, the gratitude ceremony—was concluded. Leader Deng, still chatting nostalgically with Leader Gou, took his seat, and the police officers dispersed, wheeling out three people in wheelchairs—two of whom had suffered broken legs in the incident. They smiled and shook Bai Haonan’s hand with mischievous expressions. “Xiao Guo, meet Xiao Guo… Old Guo’s daughter. Isn’t she pretty? Great personality, too…”

Bai Haonan turned and finally took a good look at the policewoman. She was, indeed, striking—perhaps because he’d never interacted with a woman in uniform before, the effect of her attire seemed particularly powerful. The crisp collar and tie, the epaulettes, the badge, the small-brimmed cap—all lent her a unique allure. She had distinctive features, too, and the first thing Bai Haonan noticed was her eyebrows: straight and level, he couldn’t quite describe them, but they radiated heroic spirit and poise—impressive!

She certainly had poise. Releasing his hand, she snapped a textbook salute. “If it weren’t for you, my father wouldn’t be here. There’s no need to thank you for such a great deed. If you ever need help, as long as it’s within the rules, just ask.”

The other officers, including the two in wheelchairs, chimed in enthusiastically. “Sit, sit, let’s all watch the match! Xiao Liu is the coach, and Xiao Guo, don’t you love football? Go down to the sidelines with him—you’re both young, get to know each other, good young people!”

Bai Haonan, quick to read the room, shot the policewoman a glance and tried to shirk the responsibility. “Would you like to sit with me?” He was ready to bolt at the slightest hint of refusal.

Unexpectedly, she nodded with perfect composure. “Certainly.”

As Bai Haonan and the policewoman walked down to the field together, the cheerleaders shrieked with excitement.

Everyone who knew a little of Bai Haonan’s story was thinking, Oh, Liu Teddy, do you even dare go after a policewoman now?