Talk about asking for trouble!
At 7:28 p.m. in the Swan Palace underground parking garage.
After arriving at the scene alongside Bureau Chief Ren, Wen Du hadn’t directly participated, but she’d quickly pieced together the situation from their conversation: Ji Tingxi was insistent on the search because she suspected something was off with the wooden box, while Keqi was digging in his heels because he believed Duo Lin was hiding inside it. Opening that box would expose everything!
But when she’d returned to the hotel that afternoon, she’d confirmed via an online platform that the plan had gone awry. Unfortunately, she hadn’t found a chance to relay the news to Keqi.
So now, Duo Lin wasn’t in the wooden box. Even if Ji Tingxi opened it, she wouldn’t find anything amiss—no discoveries meant offending the VIPs, and Ji Tingxi’s fate back at headquarters would be grim indeed.
Since taking office, Ji Tingxi had caused Wen Du no end of headaches. Wen Du wanted payback, wanted to knock her down a peg. This was the perfect opportunity!
With the cooperation between the two nations hanging in the balance, Wen Du could let them bicker it out, let the situation spiral out of control, then slap Ji Tingxi’s face hard when the box was opened—crushing her authority in one go.
The idea flickered hotly in Wen Du’s mind, but it died out almost as quickly as it had ignited.
No good! Ji Tingxi and Keqi weren’t just acting for themselves anymore; they represented the image of both Baikang sides. If this blew up irreparably, the delegation’s visit would end in disaster, torpedoing future cooperation between Bailunting and Kangman.
If the cooperation fell through, Bailunting’s borders wouldn’t open further, making it that much harder for them to smuggle Sern people out.
Striking at Ji Tingxi might yield short-term gains, but in the long run, it would hinder the Giel Bridge Plan.
This visit had to succeed—Wen Du wouldn’t allow it to fail!
The atmosphere remained charged, with Keqi on the verge of exploding in argument with Chairman Ao. Then a figure appeared at his side, unassuming as a bystander, untouched by the tension, simply there to lay out the facts.
“Mr. Keqi, please rest assured: Director Ji’s inspection of the vehicle won’t involve rummaging through private luggage. It’s just a check of the car’s compartments to see if anything looks suspicious.”
Keqi ignored her, too worked up to bother with an irrelevant outsider. But her voice lingered in his ears—flawless Kangman language, every pause and inflection perfectly modulated. It didn’t sound like a translator; it felt like a true compatriot, speaking to him with genuine sincerity.
“Mr. Keqi, the inspection will open the wooden wine box, but Director Ji will handle it carefully, ensuring no damage to the wine inside. Afterward, it’ll be restored exactly as found, so you can take them back to Yecheng intact.”
The words “wooden box” hooked Keqi’s nerves, drawing him in to listen, to think, until his mind snagged on “intact.”
Keqi turned to appraise the translator properly this time, taking in her appearance: a refined woman with a poised face, her lower eyelids delicately cradling bright eyes, framed by just the right balance of space—exuding quiet confidence.
Gazing into her eyes brought calm, soothing all his doubts.
In that moment, Keqi understood her words and confirmed her identity.
“You’re certain you won’t damage my personal items or the wine?”
Wen Du felt a weight lift from her chest. She turned toward Ji Tingxi—even as she made the assurances, the real answer depended on Director Ji’s response.
Ji Tingxi played it smart. While Wen Du spoke with Keqi, she’d listened intently, ears perked, without interrupting. When Wen Du glanced her way, the sharp edge of her smile softened into something utterly harmless.
“Of course. You have my complete assurance.”
Keqi scowled but relented grudgingly. “Fine. Consider this my cooperation with your security protocols. But make it quick—don’t delay our departure.”
Ji Tingxi yielded smoothly, raising a hand to politely suggest the guests step aside to rest, sparing them the noise and fuss of the thorough check.
With the dispute finally resolved, Bureau Chief Ren let out a heavy breath and snapped back into work mode. He directed the representatives back to the tearoom to wait, confident that under Director Ji’s command, the guards would wrap up swiftly.
In the end, only Ji Tingxi, Ruo Xing, and three guards remained in the garage. Chairman Ao and Wen Du kept Keqi company by a pillar, within sight but at a safe distance, ensuring no one tampered with private belongings.
Ruo Xing grasped Ji Tingxi’s intent and started with the wooden box. He and another guard hauled it out, untied the ropes, and pried open the lid.
Though Keqi had read the signals, seeing the box open with his own eyes still made his heart clench… Was that Sern compatriot really not inside? Why not? Had something gone wrong?
Keqi turned away sharply, unable to watch the courtesy car any longer. No matter the outcome, this smuggling op had failed.
Twenty minutes later, Ji Tingxi strode over and nodded to Keqi. “Mr. Keqi, the inspection found nothing suspicious. The vehicle is secure—you can ride without worry. Thank you for your cooperation and trust in our work.”
Her words expressed gratitude, but her brows carried only perfunctory courtesy—thin as paper, scattered by the basement draft, crumbling under any real scrutiny.
She wasn’t thankful. She felt no regret. She was just doing her job, and Keqi’s resistance had wasted time—that was on him.
Keqi glared at her, grinding his molars in suppressed rage, but he held his tongue, wary of shattering the facade of amicable relations between their nations.
…
An hour earlier, Bureau Chief Ren had seen off the guests beaming with pride, brimming with patriotic fervor. Half an hour later, launching the second round of farewells, his face was etched with apologies, his legs clamped tight as if to contain his own embarrassment.
With the VIPs finally gone, the hotel held only their own people. Bureau Chief Ren dropped his guard, his tension easing by half, his smile collapsing into deep furrows of gloom.
“Director Ji, you can’t throw us under the bus like that! Even if you spotted something fishy, you should’ve handled it discreetly. Now it’s blown up huge—terrible for our image!”
“I did keep it low-key at first. I only contacted the driver to have him pop the doors for a security check, containing the info to the smallest circle possible.”
Who could’ve guessed it would escalate to where even the nude statues at the hotel entrance knew Director Ji was going toe-to-toe with the VIPs’ ride?
Sensing the mood souring again, the Foreign Affairs Office director jumped in with smoothing words. “But the outcome was positive. Chairman Ao and Director Keqi both understood—it was for their safety—and it didn’t tarnish the overall goodwill.”
The result really was fine, or Bureau Chief Ren would’ve hauled her before the Guard Institute tomorrow, determined to make Director Ji’s conscience sting!
With the sideshow over and the mission complete, it was past eight, and the departments began heading home. Wen Du and her Information Room subordinates could go straight back, but as overall lead, Ji Tingxi had to return to the General Affairs Office to report.
Outside the hotel, Ji Tingxi saw Wen Du off. Ever considerate, Wen Du paused at the last moment to call back warmly, “Miss Ji, head home and rest after your report. You worked so hard today—hosting the VIPs and fretting over their safety.”
Talk about chewing bitter herbs—asking for trouble!
Ji Tingxi’s heart warmed at the concern, and she responded with genuine enthusiasm. “Miss Wen, you get some rest too. You had a tough day translating for the VIPs and soothing their nerves.”
Talk about peddling cloth in a dye works—meddling where you don’t belong!
Miss Wen and Miss Ji exchanged their heartfelt well-wishes, finally parting satisfied.
Ji Tingxi watched Wen Du go, her smile lingering stubbornly at the corners of her mouth—far more enduring than the polite facade she’d worn for the VIPs, which vanished the instant they turned away.
But Ruo Xing blocked her view before she could savor it fully, his expression hesitant.
“Out with it. What’s up?”
Ruo Xing dropped his usual fawning demeanor, turning serious. “Director Ji, we didn’t find anything suspicious in Mr. Keqi’s car, but… we did spot something odd.”
Ji Tingxi’s smile vanished entirely as she turned to him.
Ruo Xing explained: “Under the rear seat of the courtesy car, there’s a long cabinet with a sliding door, and it has a lock on it. It wasn’t locked when we checked, so I opened it—nothing inside.”
“Some courtesy cars do have cabinets and drawers under the seats, even built-in fridges for drinks and snacks.”
“I wasn’t sure at first, but during the lull just now, I looked up interior photos of that model online. The rear seating area should be completely open—the seats fold and retract fully. In other words, Mr. Keqi’s car was modified: someone added that cabinet under the seat and locked it.”
In the Swan Palace plaza, the fountain jetted upward, misting the sculptures. The white marble gleamed under cascading water and lights, sparkling like dew. The scene reflected in Ji Tingxi’s eyes, adding a crystalline sheen to her pupils.
“You mean… what was that cabinet originally meant to hold?”
