Chapter 36: Gold Powder Hermès

The eight cameras in Jiang Village Community covered all entrances and exits, as well as two electric scooter parking areas, one inside and one outside.

The indoor parking area had a rain canopy; the outdoor one was exposed to the street—neither deterred the thieves.

After watching the surveillance footage for a long time, Mu Zhiyang and Jiang Yuan discovered that only three people were stealing electric scooter batteries.

One was a man in a windbreaker, around twenty-something, who likely left fingerprints under the I-beam; he mostly used universal keys to force locks, came a few times, then stopped—probably afraid of being recognized by security.

The other two worked as a team, even more violent; they came twice, always at night, arriving on an electric tricycle, parking beside the outdoor scooter lot, cutting the fuse near the battery of any unlocked scooter, sticking a magnet to the horn to disable the alarm, then hauling it away. For scooters locked to ground posts, they used hydraulic cutters to sever the chain or U-lock, then loaded them onto the tricycle, stealing multiple scooters at once.

Jiang Village Community lay on the edge of the county town; the southern bank, where the county government sat, was relatively bustling, while the northern bank consisted of newly built residential complexes and underdeveloped streets—criminals who stole scooters could twist and turn their way out of town in no time, leaving no trace to follow.

“No technical skill at all,” Jiang Yuan said after finishing the surveillance footage, then took a photo of the group tossing cigarette butts and trash into the roadside drain. “They’re just lazy.”

His previous assumptions—or beliefs—that riding an electric scooter required lock-picking skills were nowhere to be found in either group.

Moreover, in terms of efficiency and practicality, both groups’ methods were actually better than lock-picking.

Because lock-picking always takes time; even the fastest pick is no quicker than the first group’s brute-force method—just two twists to open, no faster. And if lock-picking is even slightly slower, you risk drawing suspicion.

Mu Zhiyang chuckled: “They’re stealing electric scooters—what technique could there be? There’s even worse: some don’t even know how to brute-force open locks; they just wander the streets, waiting for someone to forget to pull out their key, then hop on and ride off…”

“What if they don’t find any scooters with keys left in?”

“Go home, make instant noodles, and keep playing on their phones,” Mu Zhiyang sneered. “There are even thieves who steal just the batteries—no more sophisticated than this.”

“So these three still have some standards?”

“Exactly. Look closely at these two with the hydraulic cutters—they always target the lock head first. Why? Because the lock fork can be made very hard, but the lock head has a complex shape, so its hardness can’t be too high; otherwise, it can’t be manufactured, or the cost would be too high—that’s the point…” Mu Zhiyang was relaying what he’d heard, but he explained it clearly enough.

In the end, anti-theft always comes down to cost-effectiveness.

A 20-yuan U-lock only deters passersby—it won’t stop a windbreaker’s brute-force entry. A 60-yuan U-lock, if properly installed, can usually resist the windbreaker, but not hydraulic cutters used by moving crews.

The scooter’s built-in alarm system is the same: battery-powered alarms are more practical than those wired to the battery; alarms with two speakers are more troublesome than those with one. But no matter how good the anti-theft system, it’s useless against the right person—especially standardized systems, which are like textbook “example problems”; no matter how hard the example, it only stops those who don’t read, not those who are clever and eager to learn.

The best anti-theft method for electric scooters is for owners to make personalized modifications to their own system’s setup. No need for improvements or upgrades—just changing the position or tweaking the mode slightly greatly increases success rates. It’s like slightly altering a textbook example—changing a few numbers—and that’s enough to stop students who haven’t studied carefully or aren’t clever enough.

But since they’ve sunk to stealing electric scooters, their level of diligence and cleverness is already low—just look at the clues they leave behind. Any kid who could score 120 on a math test, no matter how bad the problem, would never be this careless.

Jiang Yuan and Mu Zhiyang each rode an electric scooter to the Zoumadao Police Station near Jiang Village Community to report in.

After Mu Zhiyang’s socializing, the two successfully secured an auxiliary officer to accompany them.

Although the auxiliary officer carries the word “auxiliary,” in today’s grassroots judicial system, he does every kind of job and can handle any task. Zhou Ta, wearing the FJ-prefix badge and duty uniform, was over forty and had fifteen years of police experience.

Zoumadao Police Station sent Zhou Ta precisely because they feared Jiang Yuan and Mu Zhiyang, as young men, might be inexperienced.

Compared to regular officers, Zhou Ta had excellent interpersonal skills; after walking a stretch, he grew familiar with Jiang Yuan and Mu Zhiyang, then said: “I often do crime scene investigations. Honestly, if you just need fingerprint scanning, just tell us—we can go do it for you, no need to come all the way…”

“I want to scan it myself,” Jiang Yuan politely explained. “The fingerprints on that I-beam are a month old—I don’t know if they’re still detectable.”

Zhou Ta immediately dropped the subject and changed tack: “You don’t necessarily need to scan fingerprints. Just ask around on the street—you might find someone. These thieves who live off stealing scooters have no roots. If you’re willing to put in the effort, someone will always give them up.”

“We’ll try that next time,” Jiang Yuan said. He was just helping relatives find their scooters; having Mu Zhiyang and Zhou Ta come along was already a big favor—he didn’t want to turn it into a debt of obligation.

Besides, Jiang Yuan didn’t understand street dynamics; owing people favors here could get complicated in ways he couldn’t predict.

Zhou Ta, after sensing Jiang Yuan’s attitude with a few words, happily shifted into casual chat mode. He patrolled the area daily—he knew which shops served clean food, which supermarkets had rats—all of it entertainingly detailed.

When they arrived at the scene, Zhou Ta, in his duty uniform, enthusiastically began documenting the crime scene. Mu Zhiyang followed Jiang Yuan as they crouched before the I-beam, peering down for a moment. “How can you even tell if there are still fingerprints here?”

“You could use a magnifying glass or UV light,” Jiang Yuan said, opening his inspection kit. “But today’s situation doesn’t require that—just dust with powder.”

As he spoke, Jiang Yuan picked out a small bottle of golden powder from among several silver, black, gray, and white containers, then selected a fluffy, jet-black brush.

After checking the photo again, he dipped the brush in the gold powder, gently tapped the handle, causing the 400-mesh copper powder to settle densely onto the relatively flat steel surface.

From Mu Zhiyang’s perspective, Jiang Yuan’s motion was exceptionally even, and with his deliberate preparation, it felt almost ceremonial.

“Tech people really are different—you’ve got real technique. We usually use silver powder,” said Mu Zhiyang, a detective who often dusted for fingerprints at crime scenes. For minor cases, handling it himself was simpler than calling in the Forensics Team.

Jiang Yuan studied the I-beam’s surface: “Silver powder has strong adhesion and works in more situations—it’s the universal powder. But today’s background is too light; gold powder gives better contrast.”

“Your brush looks different too.”

“Pure gray squirrel hair. Over 200 yuan each—I specifically ordered it.”

“This crappy brush costs over 200?” Mu Zhiyang exclaimed.

“Gray squirrel hair is the Hermès of brush bristles,” Jiang Yuan said, flicking the brush with a grin. “Look at the tips—fine, straight, soft, won’t damage fingerprints.”

“So this is Hermès now?”

“Because in women’s makeup brushes, gray squirrel hair is the best. It feels good when dusting fingerprints, and it feels good on women’s faces too,” Jiang Yuan added. “And it pairs perfectly with gold powder.”

As he spoke, Jiang Yuan knelt down, steadied his right hand, and gently swept the gold powder off the I-beam’s surface with the tip of the gray squirrel brush—so tenderly, it was like applying eyeshadow to a beauty.

As the excess gold powder dispersed, several incomplete fingerprints appeared before them.