Chapter 29: The Battle Rules of the Female Marauder

“So? Where are the people? Where’s the brawl? The kidnapping?” Zhang Jing asked, her face dark with annoyance.

“Uh, well…” Xiao Ma was at a loss for words.

Zhang Jing raised her hand as if to smack the back of his head. “Kid, are you messing with me?”

Xiao Ma hurriedly backed away, stammering, “Hey, don’t get rough! Look, you can say I messed with you, fine, but this is absolutely not filing a false police report!”

Zhang Jing narrowed her eyes. “So you admit you were messing with me?”

Cornered against the wall, Xiao Ma was extremely nervous and tried to explain, “But I really didn’t! Something did happen, it’s just that you came too late.”

A few rounds of back-and-forth yielded nothing. Zhang Jing was truly vexed at being played, but after a moment’s thought, she decided she couldn’t just beat him up indiscriminately. Other than his good looks, he was actually rather adorable.

So, for once, she adopted a rare gentle demeanor. “You’re being all mysterious, as if you have a problem. Come on, it’s not far. I’ve got time now—take me to your place.”

Without giving him any choice, Zhang Jing released Xiao Ma from the handcuffs, dragged him along, and shoved him into her battered old car.

“Aren’t you supposed to turn in your service pistol after your shift? Isn’t it against the rules if you don’t?” Xiao Ma asked curiously as they drove.

She glanced at him. “It is. But is it the first time you’ve seen me break the rules?”

“Do your superiors know you’re such a handful?” he asked.

“Of course they do. But I don’t want a promotion, they can’t fire me, and I’m extremely useful to them—what do you think they can do about me?” Zhang Jing’s answer was brazen.

“Even so, shouldn’t a person have at least some sense of justice and responsibility?” Xiao Ma pressed.

Zhang Jing snorted. “You think I lack a sense of justice or responsibility?”

Xiao Ma paused—she was a licensed female thug, but she did seem to possess those qualities.

“All right, I’ll let it go this time. But if you hit me again, I won’t forgive you,” Xiao Ma muttered.

Zhang Jing was startled by this and, without hesitation, pulled over in a no-parking zone, reaching over to pat him down. “Are you hiding some dirt on me again? Hand it over—now.”

“Stop grabbing me! Hey, cut it out…” Xiao Ma protested, but she frisked him thoroughly.

After checking his phone and finding no incriminating evidence, Zhang Jing’s cheeks flushed faintly. She restarted the car.

When she pulled her junker into Xiao Ma’s residential parking spot, they were greeted through the glass wall by the disdainful stares of Chen Xiao and Tao Zi, who, as a matter of principle, couldn’t resist sneering at any car less than half a million. For them, mockery was practically a passive aura.

Before getting out, Xiao Ma said awkwardly, “You really want to come in with me? What’s your hidden agenda? I didn’t invite you—aren’t you breaking the rules here?”

“Stop yammering and open the door,” Zhang Jing said impatiently.

Xiao Ma had no choice but to open the door. Inside, Chen Xiao and Tao Zi exchanged strange looks, saying nothing, both clearly puzzled—why had Xiao Ma brought home such a stunning woman? They were on edge and displeased.

It wasn’t jealousy. Just as Xiao Ma wouldn’t be pleased to have strange men visiting the house, they weren’t happy about an unfamiliar woman dropping by.

Before any awkward greetings could be exchanged, Xiao Ma covered his face in embarrassment.

Because Zhang Jing coolly produced her credentials and badge, then sat across from Chen Xiao and Tao Zi, pulled out her police notebook, and began taking notes, asking casually, “Do you two know this man I brought?”

Tao Zi was wary and confused, unsure what trouble Xiao Ma had gotten himself into, so she said nothing.

Chen Xiao, however, was quick to answer, “Of course, he’s our housemate. Why?”

Zhang Jing, never gentle even with women, snapped, “I’m asking you, not the other way around.”

“Oh.” Chen Xiao quickly nodded.

Zhang Jing continued, “What’s his name?”

“Ma Weimin,” Chen Xiao replied.

Zhang Jing nodded slightly—that matched the information she’d gotten.

Suddenly, she fixed her gaze on the two women and asked, “Have you ever been kidnapped?”

The question was so unexpected that Chen Xiao hesitated.

Tao Zi, frightened and visibly unsettled, shook her head hurriedly. “No, never—there’s no such thing. Officer, don’t listen to random people.”

Clearly, after the warehouse incident, the two of them had been shaken and must have been warned by someone to keep quiet.

Zhang Jing looked at Chen Xiao, smiling, and asked, “Why does it take you so long to answer whether you’ve ever been kidnapped?”

Chen Xiao tensed, deflecting, “I was just surprised by the question. Not answering isn’t a crime, is it?”

“It isn’t.”

Zhang Jing seemed ready to press further but put away her notebook instead. Based on her experience, Tao Zi and Chen Xiao’s odd behavior meant they’d definitely been through something. The fact that they were alive and well here meant things had turned out all right, which was good enough.

In Zhang Jing’s eyes, digging too deep didn’t necessarily solve cases; sometimes it only brought trouble. She knew better than anyone that some cases, even if uncovered, went nowhere. That old line—“Don’t worry, the police will protect you”—belonged in movie scripts, written to satisfy the censors, not reality. In truth, the person making such promises would forget all about it three seconds later, just like when Xiao Ma was arrested and his superior said, “Let him go,” with utter carelessness. Relying on such “instructions” was a trap for those on the front lines.

Having fought countless anti-terror battles in the Western Territories, Zhang Jing knew that frontline operators were always bound by engagement protocols—part of both procedure and the rule of law. The catch was, these were never clear or quantifiable. Since most anti-terror operations were emergencies, the rules of engagement were always set by leaders far from the scene, sometimes not even in the region. At the worst of times, when half a city was overrun, there still was no clear directive.

Without clear rules, every shot fired required endless reports and a hundred hours of paperwork. In the early stages, for those on the front lines, it became a battle of personal connections, and always an unfair fight. Only when the climate shifted and protocols were finally issued did the balance of power change.

So, Zhang Jing didn’t press Chen Xiao and Tao Zi further. She looked at Xiao Ma with a strange expression; now she was convinced that the brawl and kidnapping he’d mentioned had probably happened—he hadn’t been lying.

But since no one else was causing trouble at the moment, a natural balance had been struck, and it was best not to stir things up further. Otherwise, it would be like the anti-terror battlefield, where everyone involved was powerful, and the leadership would be reluctant to issue “rules of engagement.” If you acted recklessly without clear guidelines, you’d end up in real trouble—just like the time half the city fell.

With that in mind, Zhang Jing picked up her briefcase and stood. “I was just bored and got a little nosy—don’t read too much into it.”

At the door, she turned back and gave Xiao Ma one last inscrutable look, then left.