Chapter 123

The scene Director Wen feared most had finally arrived.

It was seven-thirty in the evening again. As soon as night fell, Director Wen grew restless. Darkness hung over her like the shadow of an hourglass, but the sand counting down here consisted of blood-red lives.

At night, Minister Ling’s words rang even clearer, echoing through the modest confines of her room: Without progress in a day, a random group of Sern prisoners would be eliminated, the numbers swelling with each passing day.

Today, she had acted, feeding him suspicions about Chief Ji. But did that count as progress?

Could it halt the evening summary meeting and stem the hourglass’s flow?

Director Wen’s doubts lingered until seven-fifty, when Section Chief Bai provided the answer. “Director Wen, please proceed to the conference room in the Custody Building for the daily summary.”

Director Wen lingered behind her door. “Who’s in the conference room?”

“Just Minister Ling and you, plus Chief Ji. I’ll fetch her shortly.”

“No outsiders?”

“A row of Sern people are waiting outside the door. They’ll enter once you’re all seated.”

Director Wen gripped the door handle, her legs nailed to the floor.

Why punishment after she provided a lead? Did Minister Ling mean progress required ironclad proof?

“Director Wen, you can head over now. Minister Ling is waiting,” Section Chief Bai reminded her politely.

Director Wen’s lips twitched, but she held back her response.

She dreaded stepping into that conference room. For her, it meant mental flaying, psychological vivisection.

She had to stop this punishment somehow!

“Section Chief Bai, I was actually on my way to Minister Ling’s office. I just recalled another key lead to report, but summary time is here. Could you ask him if I should brief him first or wait until after?”

Section Chief Bai blinked, grasping her reluctance at once. “Ah, got it. I’ll check. Please wait here, Director Wen.”

Personal devices were banned at the Security Investigation Station. Section Chief Bai borrowed an office to call Minister Ling. Once he had an answer, he returned to Director Wen’s door.

“Director Wen, Minister Ling says he’s waiting for you in the conference room—just the two of you. The summary is on hold.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Section Chief Bai. I’ll grab a hat and come right over.”

The door clicked shut. Director Wen exhaled sharply, as if descending from the guillotine, her spine rigid with relief.

At these meetings, Minister Ling always donned his full uniform: crisp white shirt, gray vest over a sweater, topped by a deep gray military coat festooned with rank insignia and medals that glittered under the harsh lights.

He questioned alone, but his presence alone ratcheted the interrogation to maximum gravity, dumping all that pressure squarely on the subject’s shoulders.

Without Chief Ji this time, Director Wen shouldered it all. She was seasoned, though—from a tactical standpoint, Minister Ling was no match for her, not even a tenth as formidable as Chief Ji had been. The real challenge lay in the content she now faced.

“I hear Director Wen has a new lead?”

“Yes. It just came to me. I hope it’s not too late.”

“Good news is never too late.”

Yet Minister Ling’s coffee cup already sat on the conference table. His sunken eyes betrayed severe sleep deprivation from nonstop shifts—too late for him, regardless.

“Can our words here count as evidence?”

“Absolutely. Verbal statements are vital evidence. Proven genuine, they’re more than sufficient.”

“Good.” Director Wen clasped her hands tightly, posture ramrod straight as she laid the groundwork for her account.

“During the Guard Institute lockdown, amid the flower shop owner takedown, Chief Ji burst into my office and pegged me as an undercover agent. Baffled, I defended myself. Then she leaned in close and whispered: Whether you are or aren’t, you have to be one now.”

“And… what did you make of that?”

“At first, I figured Chief Ji latched onto the evidence trail and nailed me as the culprit without further debate. Once cleared, she trusted me again. But today, mulling it over, it struck me as loaded. ‘Are or aren’t’? Why force me to be one even if innocent? It flies in the face of her meticulous, no-nonsense style.”

Minister Ling nodded, his deep-set eyes churning with thought. “In other words, she knew you weren’t undercover but needed a scapegoat—and with the evidence on you, you fit the bill?”

Director Wen nodded. That was precisely it.

“Excellent lead!” Minister Ling leaned forward eagerly. “One hitch: how do we verify she said it?”

Director Wen’s face stiffened. “You think I’m fabricating?”

“No—standard protocol. We need corroboration beyond the accuser’s word. If Chief Ji lodged a complaint against you, I’d demand the same from her.”

“Fair enough; objectivity matters.” Director Wen paused. “No cameras or bugs in my office. But someone likely passed the door as she spoke—uncertain if they overheard.”

“Exact time?”

“Sorry, fuzzy. We’d need the Guard Institute hallway footage.”

…

The interrogation hubbed at the Security Investigation Station, but North County Guard Institute stayed busy.

Dean He and Yesuiying remained on call, primed for station queries.

When the phone rang, Dean He had just wrapped overtime and reached the gate—only to pivot back for round two.

An hour later, the station’s Intelligence Department platform pinged with a response.

To kill time, Minister Ling hauled the coffee maker into the conference room, grinding beans and brewing fresh. He offered Director Wen a cup. “Milk?”

“No, thank you, Minister.”

“Bitter without it—high-caffeine roast.”

“That’s fine. Wakes me right up.” Director Wen accepted it. How could mere coffee eclipse her life’s bitterness?

She’d grit through that fate—what couldn’t she stomach?

Minister Ling had just settled when Section Chief Bai entered and murmured in his ear.

Director Wen read the grim news in Minister Ling’s eyes.

“Regrettably, Chief Ji closed the door before speaking. No bystanders caught it.”

“And her whisper was hushed, barely audible.”

Minister Ling slumped back, falling silent.

“I’ll dig up more verifiable leads. Thanks for carving out time, Minister. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

Minister Ling gestured to halt her. “No intrusion. Someone can vouch for you—we haven’t asked yet.”

“Who?”

“Chief Ji herself. Her admission would validate it.”

“True. Fingers crossed she recalls.” Director Wen rose. “I’ll leave you to verify.”

“Stay put.”

Director Wen’s scalp prickled. She turned. “Minister Ling, that seems unwise.”

She dreaded confronting Chief Ji head-on—especially to accuse her outright.

“What’s unwise?” Minister Ling’s half-smile sharpened his jawline. “Face-to-face verification is ideal. You could be out by morning.”

Director Wen sucked in a breath. Casual tone masked a non-negotiable order.

She sank back into her seat—not poised, but fidgeting like a convict on thorns.

As they waited, Minister Ling brewed another cup and set it across from Director Wen.

When Chief Ji arrived, he repeated, “Chief Ji, milk?”

Chief Ji eyed Director Wen’s cup. “Did Director Wen add any?”

“I skipped it, but it’s potent—Minister Ling’s beans are top-notch,” Director Wen replied evenly, masking any distaste. “I’d recommend milk for you, Chief Ji. Something sweet.”

Chief Ji, always game for solid advice, agreed readily. “Sounds good. Extra milk, if you please, Minister Ling.”

Minister Ling turned to pour, brow furrowing. Her contraband novels untouched, now savoring the Minister’s personal brew with milk?

Publicly funded vacations didn’t rate this deluxe!

“Chief Ji, my coffee demands straight answers.”

“Naturally. Ask away—full candor, spot-on details.”

“Fine. Director Wen, relay your allegation to Chief Ji verbatim.”

The coffee’s bite churned in her gut, refluxing to choke her throat and stall her tongue.

Director Wen nipped her tongue sharply. Pain shoved the bitterness aside, freeing her words.

“Chief Ji, during the Guard Institute lockdown, you stormed my office, branded me undercover. I protested my innocence, but you leaned in and said: Whether I am or not, I must be.”

Director Wen had dodged Chief Ji’s gaze for days, but now locked eyes, mustering stern composure devoid of emotion.

“Did you say those words?”

Minister Ling shifted his focus leftward, offloading the probe to savor silent scrutiny—like a wolf eyeing prey, luxuriating in predatory ease.

Chief Ji’s eyes darted between them, surprise flickering without tension, as if weighing her next move.

Director Wen knew the stall tactic; Chief Ji recalled the exchange. Those weren’t her words—the true ones cleared her, showcasing duty-bound integrity.

“Chief Ji, what’s the holdup? Never said it, or memory lapse?”

Chief Ji exhaled theatrically, gesturing at the coffee. “Apologies—conference room, coffee with milk option, Director Wen present. I assumed chitchat, not a direct accusation?”

“Correct,” Minister Ling shot back. “Director Wen’s claim lacks backup. Only recourse: the source herself—you, Chief Ji.”

Blunt force severed detours, compelling a crisp reply sans further delay.

Chief Ji’s gaze pinned on Director Wen, features hardening.

“Yes, I said it. Director Wen’s memory serves.”

Director Wen yearned to squeeze her eyes shut. Another tongue bite unleashed pain laced with acrid regret. Perhaps she’d erred; heeding Minister Ling’s milk tip might’ve helped.

“Thank you for confirming, Chief Ji.”

Minister Ling perked up, body tensing. “Chief Ji, care to explain? Why force Director Wen into the undercover role, guilty or not?”

Chief Ji’s expression turned grave. No pause this time—a swift accounting.

“All signs pointed to her. I locked in on Director Wen as undercover.”

“Locking in demands formal questioning, procedure—not snap judgments.”

“I overstepped. Institute-wide lockdown, Dean He imposed a final deadline. Pressure cooker—I rushed. Visited her office for a confession to expedite, got stonewalled with denials, snapped. My bad manners!”

Minister Ling nodded gravely. “Director Wen, does this fly with you?”

Director Wen wavered, lashes fluttering. “Yes. Chief Ji owns it forthrightly; the rationale holds water.”

“Splendid. Reasonable account clears the suspicion. Session adjourned.”

Director Wen blinked in astonishment. Done just like that? Fine by her—every extra tick in this room was exquisite torment.

“Hold up. Suspicion lifted means no progress today. Daily penalty proceeds as scheduled.”

Minister Ling thumbed a button. The waiting area stirred. Moments later, prisoners filed before the conference room, facing the pair of reluctant guests.

The nightmare Director Wen dreaded materialized. She clenched her fists, quelling instinctive shudders.

Gazing at her compatriots lined up for “punishment,” she gnawed her tongue fiercely, barely reining in forbidden impulses.

Chief Ji sensed the turmoil, turning to pierce her with a deep, probing stare.