The afternoon sun was lovely, shining warmly over the streets and stretching pedestrians' shadows long.
Lu Mingfei wandered aimlessly, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly slumped, looking like any other idle young man on the street.
He had found He Xiaomeng, visited his sister's grave, and learned that something suspicious lay behind it all—but what now?
The investigation had stalled. The feeling of punching cotton left him thoroughly unsettled.
A fragrant scent drifted through the air.
Jianbing. The sizzle of batter on an iron griddle, mixed with the aroma of chopped scallions, instantly pulled him back to a long time ago.
He felt the loose change in his pocket. He happened to be hungry.
Lu Mingfei remembered how, when he went home after spending weekends at internet cafés, he would often buy a jianbing from a roadside stall. Back then, he did not have much spare change. A single jianbing was already a luxury, and if he could add a sausage, he was practically living the dream. He would eat as he walked, the jianbing steaming hot; one bite, and the sauce would smear all the way to the tip of his nose.
Things had been so simple then.
He walked up to the stall and called out, "One jianbing, please."
"Coming right up!" The stall owner beamed as the scraper in his hand spread a circle of batter across the griddle.
Just then, an electric scooter stopped by the roadside.
A city management officer in uniform sat on it, wearing a cap and holding a phone. He looked up at the stall, then down at his phone, before saying, "Pack it up. Street vending isn't allowed here."
Lu Mingfei paused.
But the stall owner's hands did not stop. He gave Lu Mingfei a meaningful look and lowered his