Chapter 19: The First Pull Over (Please Keep Reading)

Ao Xi felt somewhat relieved—good thing he became a police officer; otherwise, sooner or later, he might have enjoyed the same treatment of dozens of officers chasing him down. American police can be truly incompetent in some ways, but in others, they're formidable; at the very least, they can deploy dozens of cruisers at a moment's notice to corner suspects. Anyone with average driving skills wouldn’t stand a chance.

Maybe I should practice my driving more? Ao Xi suddenly felt a sense of urgency.

The suspect and the child were naturally handed over to specialized officers, while Ao Xi continued his patrol. It was nearly one o’clock, and he hadn’t even eaten yet.

His good mood for the day had completely vanished. Now Ao Xi understood why cops often have such bad tempers—there’s just too much crap to deal with.

But work had to go on; making a living wasn’t easy!

He parked his car in a small alley, set up the speed radar, bought two burgers, and ate while waiting for a “catch.”

He hadn’t even finished his first burger when a car whooshed past.

No need to say more—chase!

Flipping on the lights, Ao Xi immediately pursued.

He tailed the car for ten minutes. Usually, when drivers see police lights in the rearview, they pull over quickly—if there’s nothing illegal in the car, it’s just a fine. But if they don’t stop and stroll along with the cruiser following, it raises suspicion of evading law enforcement—maybe there’s evidence of a crime on board. With luck, a fleet of police cars might join the chase; with less luck, you could end up with a helicopter on your tail.

Ao Xi hesitated a moment and didn’t call for backup. The reason was, the convertible Chrysler ahead was clearly new, and generally speaking, Black guys couldn’t afford a new car—not to look down on anyone, but not many Americans can afford one. Besides, the driver looked Asian, or more precisely, Chinese; and Chinese folks don’t usually act so recklessly.

So he decided to give the driver a little more time.

After another five minutes, the Chrysler’s driver finally noticed the police car behind him, turned on his signal, and pulled over.

Ao Xi’s onboard computer had already pulled up the Chrysler’s information: no official plates, temporary plates expired, just sped, evaded police—arresting him was perfectly justified.

Ao Xi got out, hand resting on his sidearm, and walked slowly to the rear driver’s side door. “Do you know why I stopped you?”

“You look around, sir, this is LA, law is out there.” The man spoke in accented English.

Definitely Chinese, Ao Xi thought.

But wait—what was he saying?

Before Ao Xi could react, the driver opened the door and stepped out, his right hand flicking open his jacket and reaching for his lower back.

Damn it, what are you doing? Drawing a gun over a traffic stop?!

Just because someone’s Chinese doesn’t mean they don’t commit crimes—take the infamous Chinatown triads, whose brutality rivals any other gang. One boss had been sentenced to 2,900 years.

Quick as lightning, Ao Xi drew his gun and pressed it to the man’s forehead. “What are you doing! Take your hand out!”

The Chrysler’s driver was stunned. “I—I was just trying to get my license for you…”

“Take your hand out first! Slowly!”

This time, the driver obeyed, raising his hands slowly above his head.

Ao Xi glanced at him—definitely Chinese, not Chinese-American, but a recent arrival. In Mandarin, he asked, “Can you speak Chinese?”

“Yes, I’m an international student.” The driver was surprised to hear Ao Xi speaking Mandarin.

“Do you know how dangerous it was just now, getting out and reaching for your back like that? If it weren’t for the fact that we’re both Chinese, I might have shot you on the spot. If it were someone else, you probably wouldn’t be standing here!”

“Yes, yes, I just got my California license, and the car is new. I don’t have much experience.” Sweat beaded on the young man’s forehead as he realized how reckless his actions had been.

In America, ignoring police instructions and getting out of the car, especially reaching for your lower back, can easily trigger a cop’s self-defense reflex. If the officer shoots you dead, they’re almost never held responsible—you die for nothing.

Ao Xi turned him around, patted him down—no gun, just a license from about a month ago. Ao Xi was tempted to mock his inexperience but then remembered he’d had his own license for even less time, so he let it go, holstering his weapon. “Go get your ID, vehicle registration, and insurance.”

“Okay.” The guy replied and walked to the passenger side, yanking open the glove box and rummaging through it noisily. After a moment, he seemed to remember something and looked back at Ao Xi with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I forgot I should move slower. Don’t worry, there’s no gun in the car.”

“I’m not worried. Just be careful next time—getting shot over something like this isn’t worth it,” Ao Xi said helplessly.

“I got it. It won’t happen again.”

He said it so readily, but his hands didn’t slow down at all, and after all that rummaging, he still hadn’t produced a single document.

Scratching his head, he pulled out a large stack of papers. “It’s definitely in here somewhere. Mind helping me look?”

Ao Xi raised an eyebrow—fine, let’s look.

Together, they rummaged for ages before finally finding everything.

Ao Xi checked his student ID—graduate student at UCLA. Impressive. He took the insurance and registration back to the cruiser to check them—no issues.

He walked back to return the documents. “Your paperwork’s in order, but your temporary plate is expired, and you were speeding, so I have to give you a ticket. Any problem with that?”

“No problem, no problem. I’ve been busy with school and forgot to renew the plates. I’ll take care of it right away.”

The guy agreed repeatedly, then watched Ao Xi write the ticket, asking curiously, “Are you Chinese-American? Your Mandarin is excellent.”

“I’m Chinese—just got to the States, probably not as long as you.”

“So why did you decide to become a cop?”

“Gotta make a living, that’s all.”

Should I tell you I want to be a nemesis of crime?

“Have you ever fired your gun? Killed anyone?”

Ao Xi glanced at him. “You almost became the third.”

“Damn, that serious? You don’t look it at all!”

This grad student didn’t act like a grad student.

“Hurry up and go.”

“Leave me your contact info—let’s hang out and have a drink sometime!”

Is this guy studying social networking?

Ao Xi didn’t refuse—they exchanged contacts.

He hesitated, wondering whether to give him the ticket, but in the end handed it over. Anyone driving a new convertible Chrysler doesn’t care about a couple hundred bucks.

Back in his cruiser, Ao Xi looked at his now stone-cold burger and sighed—it was inedible.

He might as well search the map—and found a place that served claypot rice. He headed straight there.

Enough working for now—time to eat. Speeders and traffic violators could wait; even if the sky fell, he’d deal with it after he’d finished his meal.