It was the evening of March 24th, a Friday—the day off for the working class and the day when the Wei Investigation Institute’s operatives, who had been deployed to the Swan Palace Hotel, could finally head home to rest.
But Wen Du showed no signs of relaxation after returning home. On the contrary, the anxiety and disarray she had concealed for so long finally emerged, spilling out across the dining table.
Even though it was already past eight o’clock, Yue Mu had kept dinner warm for her. She knew the plan had not gone smoothly. Wen Du had merely gone through the motions of eating at the hotel; none of the food’s nutrition or flavor had truly reached her stomach. Now that she was back, she needed to replenish her strength.
“Was there no major mishap at Swan Palace?” Yue Mu handed the utensils to her. “Eat something first. The fish soup simmered for half an hour—the full flavor of the East Star grouper is infused in it.”
Wen Du clutched the spoon in her hand, but her gaze drifted outward, paying no attention to the plate. “Before the delegate departed, Ji Tingxi blocked Keqi’s car in the basement. She demanded a search!”
“Has she grown suspicious?”
The anxiety weighing on Wen Du eased only slightly. She had not yet removed her professional makeup, and the faint eyeshadow on her lids gleamed brightly under the light. Yet that brightness was overshadowed by the flickering thoughts in her eyes.
“Yes, it must have been Keqi’s errand to fetch the wine that aroused her suspicions. But no matter how suspicious she got, she couldn’t just conduct a forced inspection right in front of everyone.”
Wen Du gripped the utensils tighter and murmured under her breath, “What a madwoman!”
They had dared to execute their plan—hiding Duo Lin in the trunk of the courtesy car—precisely because they were certain Bailunting would refrain from searching a distinguished guest’s vehicle due to their status. Even if border checks occurred, Duo Lin would already have transferred from the wooden box to the hidden compartment under the seat, allowing her to pass smoothly.
But Ji Tingxi had acted unpredictably, citing security concerns to forcibly conduct the search. Wen Du had stood guard in the basement and witnessed the entire process. They inspected not only the trunk but also the passenger compartment in detail.
It had sent a chill down her spine: What if Duo Lin had made it safely into the hidden compartment? What would have been the consequences?
Yue Mu was equally astonished upon hearing this. “Searching a VIP’s private vehicle? Doesn’t she worry about jeopardizing the visit’s outcome—or her own career?”
“Maybe she’s just unhinged, playing by no one’s rules. She’s willing to use any means to catch a Sern person. Or perhaps she has the confidence to know nothing would go wrong.”
But what gave her that confidence?
Had she already concluded that Keqi was a plant and that something was amiss in the car?
Wen Du was accustomed to relying on her intuition. She would first gather information, then synthesize it into deep impressions of people, objects, and events. These impressions coalesced into an intuitive system—like a navigational compass—that allowed her to pierce the essence of things, discern hidden motives, and foresee developments. Her innate acuity was like a powerful flashlight cutting through the pervasive darkness within the Wei Investigation Institute, enabling her to navigate the knife’s edge with ease.
Yet Ji Tingxi was an enigma. Wen Du had tried to probe and analyze her with intuition, but after several encounters, what she thought were gains turned out to be deviations from the truth.
Her intuitive tendrils could not penetrate Ji Tingxi’s inner world or grasp her true intentions.
For the first time in three years, Wen Du felt a profound sense of insecurity. She began to doubt her judgment of information.
Yue Mu noticed her hesitation and could not help but worry. “Whether it’s erratic temperament or some hidden backing, she’s no easy opponent. And you’ll have plenty more chances to interact with her…”
Plenty of interactions meant plenty of clashes. If every one caught her off guard like this, how was she supposed to cope?
Wen Du scratched her temple with the handle of her dinner knife, at a loss for the moment.
Ling Tofu’s predecessor had merely demanded mental effort; this Ji Tingxi demanded one’s very life.
Amid her doubts, Wen Du’s thoughts circled back to the core issue. She raised her head. “Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to visit He Lilin’s home. I need to know what happened to Duo Lin!”
…
At the Sern Affairs Management Bureau, Ke La faced her first truly thorny situation in the reception room. The matter itself was straightforward, but the people involved complicated it. Focusing purely on the facts became secondary; reading the room was paramount.
Sitting before her was Eldest Miss He from the He Family. She sat with her chin slightly raised and her eyelashes slanted downward. Though she appeared properly seated, she exuded an air of condescension that made Ke La, sitting opposite her, question whether she even deserved to share the same level—or if she ought to kneel at the young woman’s feet and dust off her shoes.
Two people stood behind her: a personal housekeeper and a household hired worker. The housekeeper remained impeccably dressed and stern-faced, her neck scarf neatly tied, her hands clasped over her abdomen. Ke La kept stealing glances at her from the corner of her eye, half-expecting her to wave grandly and summon colleagues from the bureau to massage the Eldest Miss’s legs.
As for the hired worker, she was unmistakably a Sern person. Her identity and ethnicity were irrelevant at first, and Ke La had no intention of paying her much mind. But this particular Sern woman drew her attention nonetheless.
Most Sern hired workers dragged into the bureau had either caused trouble or simply fallen out of favor with their employers and been returned like faulty merchandise. Once inside, they typically trembled in fear—either weeping copiously in repentance or pleading desperately for another chance.
Sern workers whose contracts were terminated by employers bore a mark on their work records, hindering future job prospects or assignments. If no one hired them in the end, they were consigned to the Labor Training Camp for basic labor drills, performing the dirtiest, most grueling tasks. Their greatest contribution there might be dying on-site to fertilize the vegetable patches.
Life and death rested entirely in the hands of Homer-speaking employers. Thus, the place with the highest rate of Sern tears was not the factories or hospitals, but the Affairs Management Bureau. Factories merely extracted their sweat and blood; hospitals merely announced their illnesses. But the bureau dispensed their very fates.
This Sern woman, however, was different. She was uncannily calm. Her naturally round eyes held no emotion; her full cheeks bore no smile and seemed shrunken. It was the tranquility of one whose heart had turned to ashes.
With a haughty Eldest Miss, a rigidly vigilant housekeeper, and this atypical Sern worker, Ke La struggled to make sense of the odd trio. She did not know where to begin.
“Section Chief, the facts are clear,” Lan Zhijing declared. “This Sern hired worker took advantage of the Eldest Miss’s afternoon nap to attempt an escape. That’s dereliction of duty on one count and a betrayal of her trust on another. We have every right to terminate her employment and bar her from future hiring!”
As Lan Zhijing spoke, the painful memories from yesterday resurfaced. Cracks appeared in Duo Lin’s calm facade, her emotions gathering at her furrowed brow.
The recollections gnawed at her tormentingly. Duo Lin’s breathing grew heavier. The true agony was not in being caught, but in the endless replays after failure—the repeated recognition that her chances of survival had been shredded and extinguished.
Ke La already knew the details: fleeing the employer’s home during work hours. Unless an earthquake or tsunami had struck, it was grave misconduct with no room for leniency. And even then, one ought to carry the employer to safety rather than sneaking off alone—what kind of talk was that?
“Do you have anything to say about this?” Ke La turned to Duo Lin.
A Sern person’s opinion mattered as little as a dog jettisoned at an animal shelter—no one consulted the dog.
Yet the Affairs Management Bureau prided itself on order and civility. The proper procedures had to be followed to the letter.
Duo Lin offered no defense, tacitly accepting the charge. From the moment she had entered the bureau, a strange relief had washed over her. Hadn’t she wanted to leave the He Family? This was the perfect opportunity. Lan Zhijing wanted her fired and blacklisted—exactly what she desired.
They did not want to employ her, and she had no desire to work for them!
Duo Lin knew the consequences of dismissal. With the He Family’s influence, she would find no work in the city. Without income, no one would dare help her. She would be hauled off to the Labor Training Camp and die there.
Death was inevitable either way. Dying in the camp might be cleaner, at least nourishing a couple of rapeseed plants in the process.
Receiving Duo Lin’s tacit admission, Ke La asked no further questions. She stood to escort He Lilin and Duo Lin through the formalities. But Miss He remained seated, her eyes wide and her pupils dilated in a terrifyingly stern glare.
“I want to know where you were trying to run to! What were you planning to do!”
The words squeezed through her clenched teeth, laden with raw emotion. Even Duo Lin’s numbness cracked under the impact, her nerves stirring to life.
How exhausting it must be for Miss He to care so deeply about her worthless troubles.
“I don’t believe you were running away. You have to explain yourself today—what were you really up to?!”
Another emotional collision. This time, Duo Lin’s chest began to pound forcefully. She sensed He Lilin’s intent: she wanted to protect her.
Lan Zhijing had always schemed to get rid of her, but He Lilin had shielded her time and again—even now, after learning of her betrayal and escape attempt, she still sought to save her.
Once her nerves and heartbeat quickened, a rush of emotions surged through Duo Lin’s body, carrying complex feelings toward He Lilin.
Duo Lin hated her: He Lilin had forcibly claimed her, grinding away all her dignity and hopes, trapping her in daily torment from which she could not flee. Yet she also owed her gratitude. In this cannibalistic world, He Lilin had provided shelter, sparing her external cruelties and allowing her to survive this long.
Those tumultuous feelings toward He Lilin roared within her, finally rekindling Duo Lin’s will to live. As stagnant waters threatened to drown her, He Lilin tossed her a lifeline. She seized it and began to climb.
She had wanted to die, but the one who deserved to die was not her. These scum, these bloodthirsty beasts feasting on flesh—why did they live so splendidly? Why couldn’t they be the ones to die?!
A deep swallow rolled down her throat. Duo Lin spoke. “I’m sorry, Miss. I wasn’t trying to escape. I wanted to kill myself. I was afraid that dying in the house would scare you, so I ran out to drown in the lake instead, so I wouldn’t trouble you.”
The situation took a sharp, ninety-degree turn. Ke La froze in place. “Suicide? Why would you commit suicide?”
Duo Lin formed circles with her hands and rolled up her sleeves on both sides, exposing her arms in an instant. The slender arms should have been beautiful, but they were riddled with needle marks and bruises—like a lotus root gnawed by borers, pocked and pitted in a shocking display.
