This day marked Wen Du’s birthday.
People from the Guard Institute always kept their birthdays especially low-key. There were no birthday banquets, no celebrations, and even at home, they maintained their routine of early bedtimes and early risings.
Their profession required them to blend into the crowd dressed in plain gray clothes and black shoes. Standing out suddenly with flashy displays would only invite the thrill of a sniper rifle’s sights locking onto them.
Yet Wen Du’s birthday stood out regardless. After all, she held a dual profession. Even if the Guard Institute stayed low-key, the school would send congratulations—especially from the students who admired her.
Early that morning, Wen Du received birthday messages from North County University, along with a gift from He Lilin: a book with a greeting card tucked inside.
The card was clearly handmade, featuring cream-colored cardstock, colored pencil patterns, paper cutouts for decoration, and a concise message on the inside:
Teacher Wen, happy birthday.
It wasn’t He Lilin’s handwriting. Wen Du thought for a moment and realized it came from Duo Lin. Her script was just as it had been in high school—delicate yet sharp. It looked elegant, but running a fingertip over it revealed the firm pressure that penetrated the paper.
In fact, Duo Lin had made the entire card.
Holding the card, feeling the paper’s thinness and texture, Wen Du couldn’t help but feel a long sigh welling up inside her.
Seeing her sit there for a long time, Yue Mu approached and glanced at the card. “Miss He has made progress. She can make crafts herself now.”
Even the eldest miss was willing to get her precious hands dirty.
“It wasn’t her. It was Duo Lin.”
“Duo Lin? Oh, I get it. She knew it was your birthday and wanted to send her best wishes, but she couldn’t do it openly, so she slipped it into Miss He’s gift to blend in. That shows how tolerant Miss He is toward her—to agree to something like that.”
Sending a birthday gift to a respected teacher was a chance to express one’s unique sentiments, not something to let someone else steal the spotlight. Yet He Lilin had given up the chance to write the card herself. That was no ordinary tolerance.
“He Lilin has already noticed. She senses that Duo Lin’s feelings toward me are special and sees me as her teacher too.”
“Does He Lilin know a lot about Duo Lin?”
“That’s normal,” Wen Du finally closed the card and slipped it back into the book. “They’re high school classmates with plenty of shared memories and experiences. They understand each other well.”
Yue Mu shook her head with a smile. “But she definitely doesn’t know that Duo Lin is a member of the Giel Organization—and that she’s working for us.”
Wen Du looked at the book in her hand, hesitating for a moment. She wasn’t sure where to put it. On the bookshelf? But it had the card inside. On the nightstand? She worried it would gather dust.
“Before, we were afraid she’d accidentally leak key information and just wanted to get her out of the country. But now, she’s become one of our key members. In this latest foreign enterprise recruitment, she helped spread the word a lot.”
The Giel Organization’s influence hid within Bogota Enterprise. The cross-border company’s establishment served not just bilateral cooperation to open routes beyond Bailunting’s borders but also a crucial purpose: smuggling Sern Hired Workers out of the country.
The company had dedicated cross-border vehicles, legitimate entry and exit documents, and even escort staff along the way. Compared to traditional transfer methods, this greatly improved safety. It was a major leap for the Giel Bridge plan.
“Yeah, I heard that at first, many Sern Hired Workers were wary and afraid to apply, fearing a trap. Duo Lin promoted it for free, casually mentioning the company’s benefits, which drew some to take the risk. Once they saw results, others followed suit.”
Yue Mu nodded. “Those who apply to the foreign enterprise are the ones we can ultimately save. It’s a pity everyone can apply, but Duo Lin herself can’t go.”
…
Early that morning, Wen Du was scrolling through the birthday messages from her students. Amid a string of blue texts, a green notification popped up from the messaging app.
Wen Du opened it. This birthday message came from both North County University and the Wei Investigation Institute.
Sha Jiali: Happy birthday, Professor Wen. I made some cake at home and specially changed the style for a birthday party. Would Professor Wen have time to come taste it?
He had made a birthday cake just for her? And today was Saturday—no easy excuse to beg off.
This was also the first time Sha Jiali had invited her to his home. Before, they had always barged in uninvited, and he had hosted them reluctantly.
Now the tables had turned, with Sha Jiali playing the enthusiastic host while Wen Du hesitated.
Though it was her own birthday, on the way to the Sha household, Wen Du bought a potted succulent. Sha Jiali’s balcony was lined with greenery—plump and round ones that were clearly his favorites. Gifting a lush Star Beauty in return was only polite.
Once inside, Wen Du saw that it wasn’t just the birthday cake on the table—the whole house buzzed with party vibes. Balloons lined the walls, with streamers dangling below. The coffee table and dining table were covered in polka-dot cloths, laden with macarons, cream puffs, chocolate cookies, all surrounding a massive bouquet of hydrangeas that bloomed densely, as if nourished by the sweets.
Facing the dining room like this, Wen Du suddenly felt the potted plant in her arms looked drab and out of place.
Fortunately, Yuan Miu was thoughtful. She stepped forward at once to take the succulent, nodding politely. “Thank you, Professor Wen. The plant is lovely.”
With that, she carried it to the balcony to tend it, sparing it further embarrassment.
“It’s your birthday today—what gift did you bring?”
Sha Jiali pretended to scold her, then pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to sit.
“Would Teacher Wen like to taste the cake first, or start with some home-cooked dishes?”
Wen Du eyed the table. The cake was double-layered, each tier encircled by ladyfingers enclosing raspberry preserves and fresh cream inside.
Strawberries and mangoes diced into neat cubes formed a ring in the cream center, pairing squarely with the outer cookies for a striking contrast.
A classic Charlotte cake. If Sha Jiali had truly made it himself, he had undergone a transformation—from kitchen disaster to cake master.
“Let’s try the cake first. It looks so appetizing—just the two of us won’t finish a double layer. You’re too generous.”
Sha Jiali was going all out as host. Forsaking his usual lazy gamer habits, he picked up the knife and fork to slice the cake.
He cut along the gaps between the ladyfingers, dividing it into eight equal portions—as if expecting a crowd that needed equal shares.
He forked one portion onto the nearest plate.
Wen Du took it with a thank you. Spotting a pot of black tea nearby, she poured two cups, one for herself and one for Sha Jiali.
But when she sat back down, she saw he had already plated cake on four dishes, arranged around the table.
“No need to plate them all—I can get more after I finish mine…”
Wen Du’s words trailed off. By then, she had sensed something off—not just Sha Jiali’s behavior, but the atmosphere in the entire room.
An odd tension hung in the air.
Sure enough, her intuition proved right soon after. Yuan Miu pulled Duo Er over to sit across the table. She took a plate in one hand and a fork in the other, more at ease than the guest.
Wen Du sat straight-backed, watching them silently.
For Sern Hired Workers to dine at their employer’s table was utterly presumptuous.
When guests visited, etiquette demanded the guest make the first move on the food. Duo Er stared back at her, but seeing this guest ignore decorum and leave her utensils untouched, the girl simply grinned and shoveled a huge dollop of cream into her mouth.
Wen Du turned to Sha Jiali, but he showed no reaction—still beaming as if it were his own sixtieth birthday. He stood to refill the teapot, pouring two more cups.
“The other girls have work to do, so they won’t join us. But there’s a bigger layer below that’ll be saved for them. Teacher Wen doesn’t need to worry about leftovers.”
Wen Du gathered her scattered thoughts and responded politely.
“So in your house, they can eat at the table? That’s quite the unconventional rule. Rest assured, I won’t report it to the Guard Institute.”
Sha Jiali handed tea to the two across from them, his eyes gleaming.
“Of course you won’t—after all, you’re the one who looks after the Sern girls the most, aren’t you?”
“Looks after?” Wen Du’s brows arched just enough to convey puzzlement. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Luo Zi’s disappearance was your doing, right? Thanks to your ‘care,’ she escaped this hellhole.”
Wen Du’s brows settled, resisting the urge to furrow. A storm brewed in her eyes, sealed behind calm irises. Now they did crease, deepening her feigned confusion.
“Luo Zi was the hired worker who went missing from your house before, wasn’t she? We never found her. Does Professor Sha still hold that against us?”
So why the veiled barbs and nonsense now?
“I did at first—thought you lot were incompetent good-for-nothings. But now I don’t mind at all. I realized Luo Zi wasn’t kidnapped; she was transferred to safety. Far from minding, I’m grateful to you. Sorry, Miss Wen—I was impulsive reporting it back then. Did I cause you big trouble?”
Wen Du’s ears absorbed his words while her heartbeat thundered in them.
Her heart rarely raced like this—not even during her confrontation with Ji Tingxi. It bounced wildly now, like a compressed rubber ball thrashing in confined space, pounding out shockwaves and echoes.
“Professor Sha, if I haven’t misunderstood, you’re accusing me of being a Sern infiltrator?”
“No, no—not accusing. I know you are one! I invited you today to thank you—for saving Luo Zi and getting her out!”
In Wen Du’s vision, Sha Jiali’s face filled the frame, his exaggerated smile now laced with inscrutable intent. His mouth grinned, but his eyes probed cautiously, gauging her reaction.
She shifted her gaze. Across from her, Duo Er ate like a wind-up doll, oblivious to everything. Yuan Miu, like her, hadn’t touched her utensils. No smile on her face—her eyes held the same probing glint.
This was a trap. It had to be a setup to rattle her!
Wen Du’s fingertips chilled. Brushing a utensil made them tremble violently; she yanked her hand back.
She had faced suspicion before, always with mental prep and countermeasures ready.
But not today. This hit out of nowhere—just as they intended, to catch her off guard and judge her tells.
“Professor Sha, you need to realize that such talk is defamation—and hurtful. Accusing a Guard Institute officer of being an infiltrator without evidence is unacceptable!”
“Don’t be scared.” Sha Jiali extended the fork. “I won’t report you to the Guard Institute either. Today, I just want to tell you: if you ever need help, come to me. I’ll provide it no questions asked.”
The fork hovered, gleaming coldly. Even the cake’s vivid colors failed to warm its glow.
Wen Du didn’t take it. Instead, she grabbed her bag and stood, her gaze stern and chin lifted haughtily.
“You still don’t grasp the severity—or how little respect and trust you’ve shown. No need to taste the cake. Give it all to your hired workers. And as I said: I won’t report your bold and dangerous fetishes to the Guard Institute.”
