Chapter 28

She absolutely could not allow Ji Tingxi to get involved!

At half past six, before Chao Xia had even started her shift, Wen Du was already standing in front of her vanity mirror.

She usually only wore nude lip gloss to add a subtle sheen to her lips, but today’s pale red shade dramatically elevated the striking beauty of her entire face. If she were holding a bouquet of roses right now, it probably wouldn’t outshine her radiant appearance.

This “bold stroke” of makeup served two purposes: one for her day job, and even more importantly, to ensure her side operation went smoothly. Today marked the launch of the Giel Bridge Plan. As agreed, at 8 p.m. on April 26th, it was time to get Luo Zi out of the country.

As a seasoned operative at the Wei Investigation Institute, Wen Du didn’t dare openly pray for success. Instead, she applied a slightly brighter lipstick, silently wishing the organization’s operation every success.

That morning, something unexpected would unfold at the Sha family villa. To prevent Sha Jiali from returning home early and disrupting the plan, Wen Du had made a special trip to the classroom for “Electronic Information Materials and Technology” to deliver a take-it-or-leave-it lecture. Officially, it was a class; in reality, it was surveillance, keeping a close eye on his every move.

Sha Jiali proved himself a veteran professor. Spotting Wen Du in the audience didn’t faze him at all. As he lectured, he paced the stage, his eyebrows dancing along to punctuate key points and signal what the students should focus on.

And those key concepts came out of his mouth in the most professional, most unexpected ways, leaving Wen Du utterly baffled by every single one.

It was the perfect way to deter any freeloaders trying to audit for easy credits.

“Professor Wen, we meet again.” After class, Sha Jiali approached her seat with a cup of water in hand.

This was already their third encounter in recent days, and each time, he had been the one to initiate.

If he didn’t know her true intentions, Sha Jiali might have started thinking his charm was irresistible—that Teacher Wen had designs on him.

And she did have designs on him, just not on his heart. She was after his brain. His heart could wander off for all she cared, but his brain had to serve the institute loyally.

“Professor Sha, I have some specialized questions I’d like to discuss with you. Are you free now?”

“Sure thing. Let’s walk and talk.” Sha Jiali gestured toward the school cafeteria. It was past eleven already—they could chat over lunch.

North County University’s cafeteria operated on a self-serve model. Wen Du picked up a plate of pasta and a bowl of mushroom soup. At the table, the focus was on discussion, so she didn’t want to waste time on food.

“That’s no good,” Sha Jiali said. “We’re the vanguard of brainpower activities, burning calories nonstop. If you don’t refuel at lunch, you’ll run out of steam by afternoon—not just physically, but mentally too. You don’t want a student stumping you!”

He wasn’t just talking the talk. He immediately shoveled a helping of creamy chicken onto her plate. The massive chicken leg stood tall in the dish, instantly claiming half the territory of Wen Du’s lunch.

“Thanks, Professor Sha, but you’ve given me too much. What about your energy for the afternoon?”

“No worries. I don’t have class this afternoon—I can head home for tea.” Sha Jiali speared an egg from the sauce with his fork and opened his mouth wide for a big bite. Then he caught himself—a refined lady sat across from him, so he had to mind his manners. He shrank his bite down to nibbles, leaving the egg etched with wavy ridges.

Wen Du leisurely sliced meat from the chicken leg, thinking to herself, You’re planning to head home after all. Good thing I intercepted you.

“Perfect, since you have no class. Some of my questions are going to drain that big brain of yours.”

“Fire away!”

“I have this manual for an electronics item—a ‘High-Speed Analog-Digital Mixed Integrated Chip’—that needs translating into Kangman. There are two approaches: one using modifier-noun structures like our language, making it instantly clear; the other using compound words to simplify nouns. From my research, Kangman already has a term for mixed integrated circuits, derived from existing circuit names. We could borrow that. What do you think, Professor Sha— which style would Kangman people find easier to understand and accept?”

“I’ve reviewed a ton of literature,” Sha Jiali replied, “and I noticed something about proper nouns. Our side uses lots of stacked modifiers in layers, but Kangman tends toward compounding, then abbreviations. They’d explain it fully the first time, then use the shorthand afterward to save space and t—”

He was midway through his insights when his phone rang. The caller ID showed home. Wen Du lowered her gaze and quietly ate.

“Hello? I’m not coming home for lunch. Handle it yourselves.”

Sha Jiali moved to hang up, but the response on the other end froze him in place.

“You’re not answering calls now? Have you looked for her outside?”

Just those two sentences were enough for Wen Du to piece it together. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected Yuan Miu at home to call him proactively about the incident!

Sha Jiali ended the call and immediately dialed another number. As expected, no answer—not even an automated message, just dead silence.

Their nutritious discussion couldn’t continue. Sha Jiali set down his utensils, adjusted his glasses, and said, “Sorry, Professor Wen, something’s come up at home. I have to head back and deal with it. Here’s my contact—you can snap a photo of the terms and send them. I’ll organize my thoughts and reply.”

Wen Du set down her own utensils, her face full of concern. “No problem. We can shelve the manual for now. Let me come with you—maybe I can help!”

…

After they arrived, Yuan Miu repeated the situation.

“This morning, Luo Zi went out to pick up a package, but it’s almost noon and she hasn’t come back. I called her, but she didn’t pick up. After preparing lunch, I went to the post office myself, but the front desk said they had no memory of seeing her this morning.”

Yuan Miu’s complexion had always been poor, like melted white candle wax. Now, with anxiety weighing on her, there was no flush of color at all.

“Then I searched along the route. The nearby shops and pedestrians all said they hadn’t seen her. I’m worried she… ran into some trouble.”

Wen Du watched her expression intently and could tell she was genuinely distraught. Had Yuan Miu noticed Luo Zi’s interest in Fallen Leaf Community’s hospital? Was she afraid the girl hadn’t gone to the post office after all, but to the hospital instead—leading to the worst possible outcome? She couldn’t say it outright, so she had turned to Sha Jiali for help in tracking her down.

Sha Jiali usually maintained a calm and unflappable demeanor, a likable persona that never faltered even with the most nitpicky students. But whenever it involved the Sern Hired Workers at home, things changed dramatically, threatening to shatter his image.

Just the day before yesterday, he’d lost his temper at Duo Er right in front of Wen Du. Now, facing Luo Zi’s disappearance, his face darkened too, shadowed by the gloom of a prized possession gone missing.

“What did she take with her?”

Yuan Miu replied, “An umbrella and a bag.”

Simple belongings—not the makings of a deliberate runaway.

“Let’s go. We’ll file a report at the police station.”

A report? Wen Du’s heart jolted. She hurried to catch up and subtly blocked his path. “Professor Sha, under normal circumstances, they require 24 hours of absence before filing a missing person case. We’re not there yet. Why don’t we search a bit more first?”

“Twenty-four hours? You can report a lost phone immediately. Why wait for a missing person? Afraid there’s not enough time to identify the body?”

At last, the polite facade tore away, revealing Sha Jiali’s blunt attitude—no room for negotiation.

…

At two in the afternoon, the Community Police Station.

The officer sided with Wen Du’s view, advising Old Man Sha to search on his own first. It was probably nothing serious—the girl might have wandered off for fun and would come home later. A good scolding would set her straight.

Low-EQ version: Petty squabbles—don’t waste police resources!

High-EQ version: No big deal. She’s probably fine.

Sha Jiali planted himself at the reception desk, refusing to budge. “Fine, no formal case. But you have to check the surveillance footage along the route first. I need to know where she went to ‘play’!”

The officer waved away the steam from his instant noodles and deployed high EQ once more. “Sorry, sir, we generally need a formal case filed first, then an application approved, before we can access road surveillance. Otherwise, we don’t have the authority to pull footage at random.”

Wen Du silently gave the officer a thumbs-up in her mind. What a dedicated public servant—professional, by-the-book, unswayed by pressure. The police needed more like him.

With that, the conversation wrapped up, and everyone should have gone their separate ways. But Wen Du hadn’t anticipated Sha Jiali’s cunning. The moment they stepped out of the station, he said, “Teacher Wen, I just remembered—Miss Ji who came with you last time, she’s a commander at the Wei Investigation Institute, right? With a Sern Hired Worker missing, could she lend a hand?”

He had successfully bought time. Wen Du’s steps, which had been light and brisk, now thudded heavily, each one echoing in her chest.

What kind of person was Ji Tingxi? When Zi Qin and Zi Cen had escaped, it coincided with her taking office, and she’d managed to haul them back from the border. Looking at the timeline now, Luo Zi was surely still in-country—the tour bus hadn’t turned back yet. If Ji Tingxi got involved, it’d be like scooping a fish from a barrel.

Wen Du halted in front of the police station. She wasn’t sure if reporting the case was wise, but one thing she knew for certain: she absolutely could not let Ji Tingxi get involved!