Accidental Hero: The Rookie Who Outshines the Force - Chapter 27

Haifeng Auto Repair.

The boss wasn’t around; a few mechanics were pulling the night shift. They’d been looking forward to clocking out, grabbing skewers and a beer, when an emergency job landed on their bench.

Not a car fix — cutting steel plate.

If the cops say so, you do it. No questions.

Five kilos had been hidden in the reinforced crossbeam under the truck bed. Once they saw it, everyone’s faces went pale. This stuff looked clean — high purity.

“How much is this worth?” one mechanic muttered.

“If it’s pure, five kilos could be four or five million,” another answered.

“How do you know that?”

“News, man. You watch the news.”

One pack alone could buy a person’s life. The mechanics whispered and smoked, now happily staying late to watch the show. The four truck men were squatting on the ground, their legs numb, and the color gone from their faces — not daring to breathe loud.

Wang Maosheng’s high faded into a satisfied glow. This was his team’s find — after hours on the road, their checkpoint had actually intercepted a drug truck. A first-rate achievement. A haul this size? One of the biggest he’d handled in years.

He glanced at Lu Cheng. He hadn’t expected the key clue to come from a rookie from the smallest precinct — a probationary officer with only three days on the job.

Lu Cheng, by contrast, watched the four suspects calmly and seriously, as if they were an open book.

In no time two off-roaders from the Narcotics Unit screeched up outside the shop, a cloud of dust billowing up.

“Nice work, Wang Maosheng. You held out for ten-plus hours, and your checkpoint finally got one!” one narcotics colleague slapped Wang on the shoulder. This was a big win — celebratory dinner on the agenda.

“Heard a trainee insisted on cutting open the floor?” the man added, eyes narrowing toward Lu Cheng.

Wang didn’t hog credit. He pushed the rookie forward. “This kid right here. From Sanliqiao — his eyes are sharper than mine.”

The narcotics officer whistled. “Kid, you’re something. Want to join our Narcotics Unit? With that nose for trouble and guts, you’d be a real asset.”

“You might be a talent for our anti-pickpocket team!” another piped in. “Hey, the Economic Crimes team needs people like you!” “Or come to our Ninth Detachment!” voices overlapped like vultures circling a prize.

Lu Cheng smiled and declined politely, “Thanks for the honor, sirs, but it’s early days. I still need to get my feet under me at the grassroots.”

Polite, humble, and refusal wrapped neatly — so pleasant the narcotics crew couldn’t help but like him. He truly was too young to be plucked straight into a special unit. Wang Maosheng liked him more with every glance. This kid had a bright future.

After brief pleasantries, Wang handed the suspects, the truck, and the drugs off to his colleagues and returned to the checkpoint with Lu Cheng. The second narcotics truck was still unaccounted for, probably already inside Jianghai — no slack in their sweep.

Word spread over the radios. Everyone learned the 212 checkpoint had sequestered a drug-laden truck — and, shockingly, the crucial find had been made by a probationary officer.

“Who is that rookie? Even old hands missed it, and a greenhorn found the clue?” one officer asked.

“Sanliqiao’s — Lu Cheng,” came the reply.

“Lucky fluke?” another scoffed.

“Lu Cheng? The rookie on the evening news? No way… that guy! He caught a fugitive on day one, stopped a rampaging car on day two — now a drug truck? This is unreal.”

“He’s a talent. Ninth Detachment, come get him!”

“Our anti-pickpocket team needs him!”

“Come on — he’s only been at Sanliqiao three days. Don’t poach him!” Chen Weimin growled, hearing the crowd’s praise and then the recruitment talk. He’d been proud — until everyone started trying to steal his rising star. He cut the banter off fast.

Across the teams, the small-unit members buzzed. They’d been assisting this operation, but the big credit would belong to the narcotics unit — and to this improbably skilled rookie. Once was luck; twice was fate; thrice? This kid was probably the real deal.

Back at the 212 checkpoint, Zhao Han glared at Lu Cheng when they rejoined: “Shouldn’t have let you out. You step out and steal the spotlight every time.”

It sounded scolding, but the pride in Zhao’s voice couldn’t be hidden.

Lin Wenbin wanted to kneel. The man before him was beyond normal.

Minutes later the city’s intelligence net pinged in: the suspicious drug truck had been located heading through the city — timestamps and locations streamed in — then, eighteen minutes later, they intercepted the red Ruiyu K68D dump truck and found the stash.

Same hiding place — under the steel floorboards. The other set of tool-men looked even more bewildered than the first batch. “We were hauling potatoes!” one sputtered. They’d been duped: hired as muscle, not knowing what they were moving. No wonder they wanted to beat the bald boss bloody.

The sweep wrapped up smoothly. This was a major case. The Narcotics Unit had its hands full: they rounded up the unsuspecting drivers and, following leads, coordinated with Yunnan police to hunt down the kingpin who’d orchestrated the whole thing.

For the precinct officers who’d helped, their job was done — mostly. After over a dozen hours on duty, the priority was simple: go home, shower, and sleep like rocks.

Some teams didn’t even stop for supper. Chen Weimin’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Their rookie had made headlines again — without Lu Cheng, both trucks probably would’ve slipped in, and whatever reached the market would have been catastrophic. The thought chilled Chen Weimin to the bone. His own checkpoint had nearly let a truck through; but without certainty, it was never easy to act.

Everyone agreed: Lu Cheng’s stubborn faith in his intuition had paid off. That confidence was real. The kid had talent.

Luo Yong from the Anti-Pickpocket team called Chen Weimin to beg for support for next week’s operation — and to name Lu Cheng specifically. Chen Weimin, bribed by the promise of roast chicken and a bottle of fine liquor, agreed. The bureau had already assigned reinforcements from West District and Qingshijing; extra hands would only help.

Back at Sanliqiao, teams trickled in. Chen Weimin told everyone not on night duty to go home and rest. Some were so tired they skipped supper entirely.

Zhao Han drove Lu Cheng home. In the old Jetta’s trunk were two big bags of local specialties — dried sweet potatoes and red dates — a thank-you gift from Wu Sanmao, the man whose wife had been saved. The whole station had divvied the bags up at the yard; the leftovers came home with Lu Cheng for his family.

He walked in with two heavy bags. His mother had stayed up a little, leaving his dinner warm.

“You back? Mom’ll warm your food,” she yawned.

It was almost ten at night. Lu Cheng felt warm inside.

“What did you bring?” she asked.

“Gifts from the old man whose money was stolen — the station shared some, the rest they gave me to take home.”

“Your father likes dried sweet potato. Save some for him to nibble at the office.”

“And the dates?”

“Bring them to your daughter-in-law next time,” she said matter-of-factly. “Dates are good for women — they nourish the blood.”

“…Daughter-in-law?” Lu Cheng froze. “Where did that come from?”

“Future daughter-in-law,” she said, dead serious.

Lu Cheng’s expression went comically blank. The only thing certain was: in this family, the plan was already two steps ahead of him.