Chapter 125: Next Year, When Spring Warms and Flowers Bloom, It Will Be Wen Du’s Happiest Time

Ling Tuofu was destined for a life of hard labor. He’d only just fallen asleep when he was roused again. The person summoning him was polite and courteous, but that didn’t stop them from ruthlessly stealing away his sweet dreams.

Gritting his teeth through his morning grumpiness, he made his way to the office. Even then, he nodded politely in response to Wen Du’s greeting.

The moment Ling Tuofu sat down, his first instinct was to call for someone to pour him a cup of coffee to clear his head. But after hearing Mo Fei’s report, his spirits lifted considerably, and his eyes lit up noticeably.

“You’re saying Chief Ji is fluent in the Sern language?”

Wen Du nodded. “Yes, we can say that with certainty.”

“How did you discover this?”

She had already answered these questions for Mo Fei once before, but since it was Ling Tuofu asking, Wen Du didn’t mind repeating herself. If anything, it emphasized the gravity of the situation.

“It came up during our day-to-day interactions. I noticed she reacted to the Sern language. When she visited my home, she saw some books in Sern. She didn’t show much at the time, but later in casual conversation, she offhandedly mentioned the titles and contents.”

This wasn’t a minor detail. Ling Tuofu’s face darkened as he listened.

When the Defense Adjustment System recruited operatives, they conducted thorough background checks, including a key section on language and cultural exposure.

Research had shown that people exposed to Sern culture in ordinary environments almost always leaned toward opposing the new policies. They advocated for preserving Sern civilization and rejected the classification of civilizations.

As a result, anyone fluent in the Sern language rarely passed the Guard Institute’s selection process. Departments like the Intelligence Division and Information Room, which dealt with languages, had even stricter criteria.

If Ji Tingxi was fluent in Sern but it hadn’t shown up in her background check—and if she’d deliberately concealed it—then the suspicions against her were as damning as they could get. Either her background was fabricated, or she’d been secretly consorting with the Sern people.

“This seems like the most critical piece. Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

“Because I asked Chief Ji tactfully if she knew Sern. She said no, that she’d only looked into it to help with cases—for efficiency’s sake.”

“What case would require her to learn Sern?”

“I don’t know the specifics, but I do know she reviewed archives from before she took office. They must have included sections involving the Sern language.”

Archives from before she took office? Ling Tuofu thought. Weren’t those his own case records from his time in charge? Why was she digging so deeply into his files?

His mind fully awake now—bordering on agitated—Ling Tuofu waved off the coffee Bai Man brought him and told him to set it aside.

Bai Man turned to leave but was quickly called back.

“Hold on. Go with Supervisor Mo right now and contact Dean He at the Guard Institute. Confirm whether Chief Ji accessed any Special Action Department archives, how long she spent on them, and exactly what she did afterward. Under strict confidentiality, search her office and residence, plus her online browsing history. Dig up every digital footprint she has!”

The orders came fast and furious. As the two of them left, Wen Du lowered her gaze, hiding the turmoil in her heart.

She had finally taken this step. Soon, they would discover that Ji Tingxi’s home contained plenty of Sern language study materials—materials that Wen Du herself had recommended.

After their secret talks at home, Ji Tingxi had occasionally brought them up, humbly asking for advice on Sern cultural matters.

Ever since their alliance, Ji Tingxi’s enthusiasm for Sern script had been genuine, to the point where it was now traceable.

…

December 25th, evening.

Ji Tingxi had someone peel her an apple. She nibbled at it while reading, but it had already turned brown by the time she’d eaten half. In the end, she tossed it into the wastebasket to rot.

Truth be told, she wasn’t hungry and had no interest in the book. She just needed something to occupy herself, to keep from losing control and heading to the West Building—to see Wen Du, to gaze at her window.

She wanted to talk to her about the weather, about meals, about old times. Anything would do. It had been so long since they’d had a normal conversation.

But Wen Du was undoubtedly busy with something important right now. Ji Tingxi couldn’t disturb her.

Leaning back in her chair, Ji Tingxi tried to focus on her book to distract herself. Unfortunately, someone chose that moment to barge in and shatter the peace.

“Come in, Supervisor Mo. Have a seat.”

The room was sparsely furnished, with no accommodations for guests. Ji Tingxi moved to the bed and offered the wooden stool to her visitor.

“Is there something I need to assist with? I can head to the office or a meeting room.”

“No need. I have some words for your ears only.”

“Then I’m all ears.”

Holding the conversation in her dorm made it seem casual, but Ji Tingxi knew better. The gravity was even higher, or Mo Fei wouldn’t have come in person—and alone.

“To be frank, Chief Ji, between the two of you, I’ve always believed Director Wen posed the greater threat.”

“Supervisor Mo has a keen eye. She saw right through to the truth.”

“But today, Director Wen provided some leads that are very damaging to you. Now we’re just awaiting confirmation from the Institute.”

This time, Mo Fei didn’t explain the issue or ask for Ji Tingxi’s side, as she had before. That meant it was likely a done deal—her responses no longer mattered.

Seeing no reaction from Ji Tingxi, Mo Fei spoke again.

“From the start, you’ve never reported Director Wen. Now, I’m giving you one last chance. Tell me everything suspicious you know about her. This might be your final opportunity.”

Ji Tingxi paused, then smiled. “Supervisor Mo, you’re too kind to me, coming all this way just to offer me a chance. Honestly, Director Wen must be exceptionally good at hiding. She never gave me any fatal slip-ups. Sure, there are suspicions, but nothing conclusive. They could all have innocent explanations. Reporting them would just waste your time investigating. No point in that.”

Mo Fei’s pupils contracted as she stared intently at Ji Tingxi. “But she’s been reporting you nonstop. Can you really stay this calm?”

“Supervisor Mo, doesn’t that prove my innocence more than anything? If there’d been no progress that day, I’d have faced punishment that night. But I don’t care about it—the Sern people’s fate means nothing to me. I trust your investigative skills; you won’t convict the innocent. Director Wen is so frantic with her accusations—doesn’t she worry about exposing herself by mistake?”

Mo Fei couldn’t say if Wen Du had slipped up, but Ji Tingxi showed no cracks whatsoever. She seemed genuinely unperturbed, as if she truly believed that a clear conscience feared no shadow.

In that moment, Mo Fei finally understood what Ling Tuofu meant: if Ji Tingxi was a mole, she’d be a formidable adversary, concealed without a single flaw.

And in that same moment, Mo Fei saw in her the qualities of a true operative: ironclad mental fortitude and a near-brutal calm.

…

Because the investigation involved the Sern language, the checks were conducted with extra scrutiny.

The Guard Investigation Station’s team at the Guard Institute first pulled records and surveillance from the archives room. Then they questioned staff from both the archives and Special Action Department.

Meanwhile, part of the team swept Ji Tingxi’s residence in a thorough search for anything suspicious.

Finally, they called—not with results, but requesting personnel. They needed the Guard Station’s Sern language expert rushed to North County City for on-site verification of Sern-related materials.

To maximize secrecy, the number of people involved in the “mole probe” was tightly controlled. But given the severity, Ling Tuofu didn’t hesitate long. He immediately dispatched the director of the consultation room, accompanied by Bai Man, to assist in North County.

Wen Du had made her report at eight in the morning, but by 7:55 p.m., there was still no definitive word.

Her heart had been in her throat all day, but there was one small relief: no one had called a meeting yet. Tonight’s punishment could be averted, right?

No—not just tonight. Maybe forever?

It was almost over… almost finished?

Finally.

…

A little past eight that evening, Ji Tingxi still sat by the window. She parted the curtains, gazing at the night view outside and keeping an eye out for anyone strolling in the courtyard below.

The courtyard lay empty and silent—no footsteps, no signs of life. No flowers or birds, no wind or snow. Everything was still.

Aside from meals, she’d stayed in her room all day. She hadn’t seen Wen Du even at the cafeteria. The only person she’d encountered was Mo Fei, offering her that “final chance.”

Mo Fei’s implications had been clear. After she left, time itself became a countdown to the end—Ji Tingxi’s end.

Facing that countdown, Ji Tingxi felt no anticipation, no excessive nerves. She’d started this job long ago; now it was simply time to make it official, with the entire Guard Station counting down alongside her.

In these final moments, she mentally reviewed everything: Were all the pieces in place? Any oversights?

When Ling Tuofu summoned her and laid out the irrefutable evidence, she would confess—or maintain her current air of indifference, neither confirming nor denying.

Of course, if the evidence was plain as day, they might not even need her response. Straight to conviction.

Holding out this long and “exposing” herself this way wouldn’t seem abrupt. It wouldn’t raise suspicions. She knew Ling Tuofu had locked them together not just to find the mole, but to observe their relationship. After all, she and Wen Du had been quite close at the Institute—close enough to arouse his doubts.

In this building, eyes and microphones were everywhere. She and Wen Du couldn’t plot, pass notes, or even show emotion.

So they could only react to each other—or anticipate reactions—and counter accordingly.

Ji Tingxi had done her utmost to protect Wen Du and conceal their bond.

Up to now, she hadn’t covered for Wen Du or held back. She was simply convicted on “hard evidence,” with no “special” ties to Wen Du. Wen Du could walk free.

Afterward, Ruo Xing would step into her role and liaise with Wen Du.

After returning wounded from Meisi to North County, she’d arranged with Ruo Xing: if anything happened to her, he was to represent the Libo Faction and continue the partnership with Giel.

Wen Du was an excellent operative; Giel, a steadfast ally. Together, they’d bolster the Libo Faction immensely.

In next year’s election, the Sern people would be a pivotal force. The Libo Faction needed to unite and harness it fully—that was the foundation of victory.

Ji Tingxi might stay here forever, but she could gift the organization an outstanding partner—most importantly, the woman she loved most.

These days had been torture for her beloved. Ji Tingxi knew it: every minute here was agony, like death by a thousand cuts. She felt it alongside her.

But it was fine. After tonight, Wen Du could leave—cleared of suspicion, unburdened, free to embed safely in the Institute and support Giel and the Libo Faction’s next moves.

Let societal divisions and racial hatred end come spring. Next year, when spring warmed and flowers bloomed, it would be Wen Du’s happiest time.

In the East Building room, an old clock ticked steadily, annotating the time, lending a quiver to her longing.

With her thoughts sorted, Ji Tingxi’s mind returned to the present, drawn to the clock. She counted down with it, her mind flowing with its rhythm, filling the room.

The sound of a death countdown wasn’t frightening, after all. In the quiet night, it sang a soothing lullaby.

By nine o’clock, footsteps finally approached the silent room—two sets, drawing near. Likely security guards here to escort her.

The steps halted at her door. A sharp click of shoe soles, then a knock.

Ji Tingxi rose and straightened her uniform collar. She’d dressed neatly all day for this very moment.

Outside stood Bai Man and a guard, both ramrod straight. The guard held a black suitcase.

Bai Man saluted Ji Tingxi and bowed respectfully.

“Chief Ji, please pack your things. I’ll escort you out.”