Chapter 173

The iron gate outside wasn't locked, only a wooden door. And this relatively ordinary lock on the wooden door posed no challenge at all for Er Mao.

I don't know how long Er Mao took to pick the lock; Zheng Tan just felt that before he could figure it out, the door was already open, the lock intact.

Before, Zheng Tan had only heard of things like master keys; this was the first time he saw someone open a door with a piece of wire, and he had thought such things existed only in legends. As the saying goes, experts are among the folk — quite true.

Er Mao bought a lot when he went shopping — biscuits, instant noodles, and a big bag of frozen foods like fish balls and shrimp dumplings. In the kitchen, he only knows how to cook instant noodles and dumplings; other dishes he's neither skilled at nor willing to make.

After opening the door, Er Mao first brought in the unpackaged loose foods; there were too many items, and once set down they scattered, making it hard to grab them all at once — but since it was his own doorstep, he didn't worry about anyone taking them.

"Hey, get your cat paws off! Don't mess with my stuff."

After saying that, Er Mao carried the things inside. Zheng Tan twitched his ears, sniffed the plastic bag printed with the supermarket name; the more Er Mao said not to touch it, the more Zheng Tan wanted to, he pushed aside the bag and moved the two packets of fish balls — too cold, and he lost interest in the contents.

Zheng Tan stopped paying attention to the bag's contents, went inside, watched Er Mao put the first batch down and then go out to fetch the rest; at that moment, Zheng Tan jumped up and pushed the door.

Bang!

The door closed.

Er Mao, locked outside, stared blankly.

"Fuck!"

Wanting to curse but afraid of disturbing Professor Lan next door, Er Mao muttered a couple of curses under his breath, put down the bag in his hand, and took out a wire to pick the lock.

Zheng Tan watched the clock hanging in the living room, timing how long Er Mao took to pick the lock.

From when the door shut to when Er Mao opened it again with the wire, it took less than ten seconds total — meaning the actual picking time was even shorter, probably under five seconds.

It seems Er Mao is a seasoned offender; his skill is quite practiced.

Er Mao came in carrying the bag, swearing under his breath; Zheng Tan ignored his words. He wanted to learn the lock‑picking technique, but a cat's paws are far less dexterous — not flexible enough; lock picking is quite difficult.

While Er Mao had settled everything, sitting in the living room watching TV and eating a boxed meal, Zheng Tan crouched on a nearby chair, staring at the pocket of Er Mao's clothing where he kept the wire, thinking about how to coax him into helping.

Being stared at like that, Er Mao found it hard to ignore; the cat in front of him showed no interest in the food in his bowl. If he wanted to eat, he'd have started meowing by now, right?

"What are you looking at?" Er Mao said while chewing rice, a grain still stuck to his chin. "This?"

Following Zheng Tan's gaze, Er Mao pulled that wire from his pocket; the wire was already coiled.

He probably found someone to show off to; Er Mao instantly felt a bit proud.

"How about it, are you impressed with my lock‑picking skill? Hey, this kind of lock can be handled with just a piece of wire…"

Er Mao went on and on, spittle flying; Zheng Tan disliked it and stepped back a few paces to avoid it.

"Ever heard of picking locks with foil? Someone once said a single sheet of foil could open every lock in the neighborhood — a bit exaggerated, but foil really is a handy tool. Also, even locks that look similar may need completely different tools to open. Here!" Er Mao produced a small leather pouch from an inner pocket of his jacket: "Hey, this is my treasure bag; with it I can open most locks in this school — except electronic ones."

Zheng Tan had just thought to himself that this guy wasn't a universal lock‑picker, when Er Mao added another sentence.

"For electronic locks there's another set of tools — too bad I didn't bring them."

Zheng Tan: "…"

What on earth has this junior fellow Wei Leng done? Could there be a black file on him? From now on, let the Jiao Family keep their distance from this guy!

I don't know where Er Mao learned these things, but I have to admit that in some respects he's also talented; however, this kind of talent isn't suitable as a role model and is more likely to be labeled a "bad person." But to Zheng Tan, whether someone is bad or not, the standard isn't absolute — if they can help him, they're good.

After finishing his meal, Er Mao was about to lie down on the bed for a nap, but as soon as he lay down Zheng Tan grabbed his sleeve and pulled him outward, snagging a few loops in his wool sweater.

"I'm warning you, don't go too far!" Having said that, Er Mao covered himself completely with the blanket.

Zheng Tan looked around; there was an empty plastic water bottle on the floor, its cap off.

"Click‑click‑bang‑click‑click"

A sound of stepping on a plastic bottle rang out.

Zheng Tan stood on the plastic bottle, jumping and stomping, making whatever noise came out.

"Really fucked!"

He pulled back the blanket; Er Mao glared at Zheng Tan with a grim expression. Then he noticed the black cat staring at his coat.

He took out that metal ring from his pocket and tossed it toward Zheng Tan; Er Mao was about to lie back down to continue trying to sleep, but just as he climbed onto the bed, his hand scratching his hair suddenly stopped, he thought of something, turned to the black cat crouched by the plastic bottle and said, "You want to pick a lock?"

Zheng Tan stared at him, thinking: Should I nod now?

"If yes, wag your tail up; if no, wag it sideways!" Er Mao continued.

Zheng Tan flicked his tail up, but he felt Er Mao's line was too smooth, as if he often said it, just blurted out — it seemed natural to him, which was odd. Normal people wouldn't just say that to a cat; Er Mao wasn't close to Zheng Tan, so if it were Jiao Ba, Wei Leng, or Fang San saying it, it would make more sense.

Having gotten an affirmative answer, Er Mao sat up straight, instantly energized: "Whose door should we pick? Better not be one in this estate, or it'll be awkward next time we meet; oh, preferably something with a bit of challenge — otherwise it's no fun."

Zheng Tan: "…" Damn, this guy is really eager!

Er Mao quickly got dressed, before leaving he fiddled with his hair in the mirror to style it, rubbed his hands together, and said, "OK! Let's go!"

Zheng Tan led the way, Er Mao followed behind; Zheng Tan wasn't sure if he was overthinking, but Er Mao seemed especially spirited now, more energetic than the few times they'd met before.

Passing the spot where that cardboard box was, the black‑and‑white spotted cat was crouched nearby eating.

Noticing Zheng Tan and Er Mao approaching, the flower cat lifted its head, glanced at them, then went back to eating. As the temperature rose, some food spoiled easily — however, unlike this morning, fresh food had been poured into the bowl; it was still leftovers, but relatively fresher. The fish head had been picked clean, then the rice; the fish bones were tossed aside.

They didn't disturb it further; Zheng Tan glanced and then walked on.

Bringing Er Mao to the tree beside that narrow lane, Zheng Tan glanced at the tightly shut windows, jumped onto the tree, climbed higher to check the situation beyond the wall.

Still about the same as this morning; it seemed the man hadn't returned at noon.

"So it's this household, you're still holding a grudge?!" Er Mao interpreted Zheng Tan's action as revenge for the spilled coffee last time.

Zheng Tan jumped onto the wall and walked to that small courtyard; Er Mao followed outside, moving with him and occasionally checking the surroundings. Fortunately, not many residents were out at this time.

Following Zheng Tan over the wall, Er Mao landed in the courtyard, avoiding the flower beds and choosing a relatively clean spot so his shoes wouldn't get muddy and he wouldn't leave footprints when entering.

The lock on the house's back door was a bit more complicated than those on the old houses in Dongqu Dayuan, but Er Mao had his tools and opened it quickly.

The first floor's layout was relatively simple, and there was also a gym; being able to afford such equipment meant the residents around here were fairly well off.

Er Mao also saw the cat trap placed in the kitchen; he frowned a little but said nothing, and Zheng Tan couldn't guess what he was thinking.

On the second floor, the three closed rooms — which to open first didn't matter to Zheng Tan; since that man abused cats, and aside from the cat trap nothing suspicious was found on the first floor, those three locked rooms upstairs must be where the answer lay, awaiting Er Mao's performance.

Er Mao felt no tension about illegally entering someone else's home, nor the excitement and vigor he'd shown before; he appeared quite calm, his demeanor natural.

Er Mao didn't immediately grab his tools to open a door; instead, he first walked around the second floor, then examined each door in turn.

"This one should be the bedroom, this one is the study; as for this one… I don't know, let's open this one first. The door lock of this room is also a bit more complicated; it should give us a surprise."

Zheng Tan didn't know how Er Mao determined which room served what purpose, but Er Mao looked quite professional.

Although this room's door lock was a bit complicated, having come prepared, Er Mao didn't take too long.

After fixing the lock, Er Mao pushed the door open a crack and peered inside.

This door is quite thick; Zheng Tan felt it could be used as an anti‑theft door outside, but here it's merely a room door.

After confirming no one was inside, Er Mao opened the door and walked in.

The room's soundproofing should be good; outside, not a single sparrow's chirp could be heard. Inside, everything was visible at a glance: on one side stood an office desk, with only a few simple items on it. Opposite the desk…

Er Mao walked over, pulled aside the blocking cloth curtain, and revealed the obscured object.

About 1.5 meters long, nearly 1 meter wide, and close to 2 meters high; one side is transparent, and the side facing the desk has a layer of tempered glass, allowing someone sitting at the desk to clearly see the interior of this object.

At first glance, Zheng Tan didn't know what this thing was for, even thinking it might be some kind of bath facility, but seeing Er Mao's expression was off, Zheng Tan climbed onto Er Mao's shoulder to get a better look.

""I saw this on TV when I was a kid; this is just a simplified version, but I never expected someone to be making this kind of thing in their own home here." Er Mao said in a low voice, "There's a dish called roast duck feet: a live duck is placed on a mildly heated iron plate, then the iron plate coated with seasoning is heated, and the duck moves and jumps on the hot plate. In the end, the duck's feet are cooked, but the duck remains alive… This is something similar.""

Zheng Tan's gaze passed through the transparent tempered glass and rested on a layer of metal mesh at the bottom of the object. It turned out those scorch marks on the cat's paws came from this.

Er Mao looked around the room, then walked to the window. The room's window seemed not to have been opened in a long time; thick curtains blocked outside light completely. Finding a suitable spot, Er Mao produced a miniature camera only about half the size of a pinky finger and attached it.

Zheng Tan pulled back his ears—Er Mao's gear is really extensive! (To be continued…)

ps: (2.25)