Chapter 57: The Biggest Evidence I Have Against You

After a night and a morning of screening and cross-referencing, including a midway shift change, they finally identified the target location just before lunchtime.

Ji Tingxi had dozed on the sofa for two hours. When she opened her eyes again, she not only saw sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains but also Ellen’s processing report.

“Director Ji, we’ve finished screening all the shopping platforms, official websites, mini-programs, and the like. We’ve also conducted a preliminary pattern analysis. In the end, thirty-three shops and venues meet the criteria.”

Ji Tingxi ran her hand through her long hair, gathering it behind her head to get both her hairstyle and her thoughts in order.

“That’s still a wide range. Next, let’s do a deeper pattern analysis—for instance, comparing the information posted on the platforms during the Swan Palace Incident to see if there were any obvious differences from the usual.”

Ellen nodded. “Got it. We’ll get right on it.”

Ji Tingxi sat up straight on the sofa and reached to lift the lid of her teacup, only to find that the tea had gone stale. She would need to brew a fresh cup.

“You go rest. Have Sui En take over. Staying up all night isn’t easy.”

Ellen was willing to serve, but not to the point of sacrificing her life for it. She agreed on the spot. Before heading to the restaurant, she thoughtfully called Ruo Xing over to keep Ji Tingxi company, so he wouldn’t have to chase after her there himself.

“Director Ji,” Ruo Xing said, “we’ve arranged personnel to investigate the three applications for leave, but we’re short-staffed right now. Out of the three tasks, one only has a single person assigned. How about I go along?”

Routine field missions usually involved at least two people: one to supervise, and another for backup in case of danger. Otherwise, if someone died out there, the institute wouldn’t even know.

“No, you handle remote command. Just keep a close eye on our lone operatives. Their tasks are just covert investigations—low difficulty and risk. They can manage solo if you watch them carefully.”

After hearing reports from both teams, Ji Tingxi finally rose from the sofa. She had intended to head to the restroom to freshen up, but as she stepped out and passed the communications section, she remembered there was another team waiting for her oversight.

Ji Tingxi placed her hands on her hips, bracing her back as she stood behind a row of equipment and heads.

“How’s it going? Everything quiet?”

“Not quite,” Pu Ningxiu said, shaking his head. “Eight colleagues made calls to the outside.”

Going through each one report by report would take too long, so Pu Ningxiu simply handed over the log. It detailed the callers, recipients, times, durations, and contents of the calls, with key sections bolded for the group leader’s reference.

The institute had given clear instructions: family had already been notified, so no need for personal outreach. But the operatives were concerned about the outside world and insisted on calling to chat. The conversations covered all sorts of topics, revealing no clear pattern at first glance.

Ji Tingxi scraped her forehead with her fingernail and handed the report back. “Give this to Sui En. Have him prioritize screening the locations tied to these personnel.”

The thirty-three venues from the earlier screening weren’t a small number, but now with eight confirmed calls, targeted filtering was straightforward. By the time Ji Tingxi returned from splashing water on her face, the results were in.

“Director Ji, only two locations match. The first is County Tai Bookstore, which Section Chief Yu frequents. It posted updates on all three event days, notifying readers of changes to digital resources. The second is Summer Lotus Flower Shop, which Director Wen often visits. It also had online updates, like notices about new flower arrivals, though the special event days differed from the norm.”

Ji Tingxi listened without much reaction and picked up the monitoring report to review the two calls again.

Yu Kewei had called home to remind them to put the receipt in her child’s backpack for submission the next morning. Wen Du had called Yue Mu to deliver medicine to the security office before noon and to tend to the potted plant on the windowsill.

Ji Tingxi’s eyelid twitched, shaking off a night’s fatigue and sharpening her gaze.

Her instincts told her the prime suspect was one of these two.

…

With the targets narrowed down, the screening team focused on data changes at County Tai Bookstore and Summer Lotus Flower Shop, along with their recent updates.

Ji Tingxi summoned the standby action teams, only to find just two young agents left, their eyes exceptionally clear. They exchanged glances, then both looked to their superior, awaiting her decision.

Two locations meant one per site. Though both were well-trained tough customers, they would be outnumbered if facing a crowd, armed with only their fists.

Ji Tingxi hesitated—an unusual sight for her. The Special Action Department, vast as it was, had never been stretched so thin.

Personnel were plentiful in theory, but only secret team members could execute these tasks, and entry required being cleared of suspicion first. That left few candidates.

Normally, field missions short on manpower could draw support from the Police Bureau or North County Station. But catching an internal traitor made things too sensitive for outside help; everything had to stay in-house.

Even with those constraints, Ji Tingxi had started with ample field allocations. Then came the curveball: leave requests pointing to suspects, requiring verification teams—five people dispatched, half the force.

Now both sides screamed priority: operatives risking themselves to venture out on one end, perfectly matching sites begging for surveillance on the other. Ji Tingxi wanted to cover both.

Conditions forced a choice. In those minutes of hesitation, she weighed every detail on the scales of her mind until one side tipped.

May 30th, 11:10 a.m. Ji Tingxi issued the order.

“Ruo Xing, recall all of Team A’s personnel. Split into two groups and head immediately to County Tai Bookstore and Summer Lotus Flower Shop. Set up surveillance. Arrest any suspicious personnel on sight and bring them back to the institute!”

…

At Summer Lotus Flower Shop, skills from past drills finally proved their worth, exceeding expectations.

At 10:10 a.m., once the temp clerk left, the shop initiated a full cleanup.

In the storage room, sensitive paper files went up in flames. On electronic devices, only normal business data remained; critical files were wiped clean beyond recovery—including the language code manual Wen Du had written for Giel.

Withdrawal items were packed in short order: burner phones, cash, self-defense weapons. Xia Lie did a final check and slipped them into Lu Binbin’s pocket, making him recite the escape route to avoid missing key turns.

Lu Binbin rattled it off at eight times speed. Though just a “small fry,” he couldn’t help nagging his superior.

“I’m heading out first? You need to move fast too. If the Guard Institute really grabs us, we might not make it out alive!”

Xia Lie was mentally tallying key items, catching his words in fragments.

Time was short; she had no patience for coddling the kid. Gear confirmed, she twisted his shoulder and patted his scapula.

“Go. Out the greenhouse back door—quick!”

With the hired clerk gone and her subordinate away, the flower shop felt eerily empty despite the blooms crowding the floors and shelves. Nowhere seemed right to stand; everywhere felt like a trap.

Xia Lie’s mind blanked for a moment. Surrounded by vibrant flowers, she reflexively moved to sort them, but her fingers brushed a bunch of lily of the valley and snapped back.

She paced the shop, muttering under her breath to steady her thoughts.

“Organization data deleted, platform updated, little blackboard out front, contact made, weapons secured…”

She glanced at the flower wreath clock: 10:35:30. Five minutes since Lu Binbin left.

Perfect timing—sun at its peak, flowers in full bloom. Normal business would have drawn customers picking along the shelves.

Double-checking everything, Xia Lie peeked through a corner of the curtain at the street.

Across the way, cafes and hat shops bustled lightly. The little stores glowed bright, with second-floor planters draping greenery over doorways, adding life.

The whole street exuded lazy beauty. If not for the missing iris flowers on Wen Du’s windowsill, Xia Lie never would have sensed the approaching crisis.

But thanks to those iris flowers, she’d gotten the early warning, buying this precious window for escape. All set—she could withdraw safely along the planned route.

Xia Lie dropped the curtain and headed to the back greenhouse.

…

Wen Du hadn’t been idle that morning. She’d reviewed four internal documents in sequence, handled the General Affairs Office’s direct request, and returned them via the usual channel.

But upon her return, her office had a visitor: Ji Tingxi stood by the door, waiting for her to unlock it. Though unlatched, a closed door deterred casual entry—caught on camera, it would be hard to explain.

“Division Chief Ji, long time no see.” Wen Du smiled warmly, her breath sinking deep into her chest. She already knew why Ji Tingxi was there.

“Indeed. This week’s been so hectic, I haven’t had a proper chance to catch up with Director Wen.”

Once inside, Ji Tingxi settled into the leather chair across the desk with practiced ease—the mark of a regular, much like Wen Du in her passenger seat.

“Busy is good. Means you’re making headway, finding direction, seeing progress.”

Ji Tingxi nodded approvingly, then furrowed her brow. “But it might not be all good. Progress can bring disappointment.”

“How so?” Wen Du stowed the confidentiality manual in a drawer and adopted a hospitable pose.

“Because with progress, I’ve realized Director Wen isn’t so simple.”

“And how do you mean?” Wen Du’s face lit with amusement, hands folding as her interest piqued.

Ji Tingxi didn’t smile. She glanced down the hallway outside. Anyone passing might overhear. She stood and closed the door.

“Director Wen used to frequent a certain flower shop.”

“Yes, Summer Lotus Flower Shop.”

“What did you do there?”

Wen Du gave her an odd look. “Buy flowers. Potted plants and such.”

Ji Tingxi sat back down, but this time without her earlier ease, her gaze intently serious.

“You liked chatting with the owner too, while she arranged bouquets in the display area.”

“Yes, after so many visits, we got familiar. We’d chat while I waited.”

“The potted plant outside your study came from there too.”

“Probably,” Wen Du recalled. “Summer Lotus is the closest to home. I rarely shopped elsewhere.”

“This morning, you called home and told Sister Mu to watch the plant by the windowsill.”

“Yes. With the weather heating up, I worried it would wither without water.”

As Wen Du spoke, Ji Tingxi watched with rapt focus, her pupils gleaming as if tracing her bones with her eyes—minus the usual warmth, laced with probing intent.

Wen Du noted it: that needle-like threat from their first meeting returned. Polite on the surface, but his gaze unapologetically invasive.

She knew full well: even the most civilized wolf craved meat, its manners sustained by full bellies.

“What’s wrong, Division Chief Ji? Is there a problem with that shop?”

“More precisely, I think the problem is you.”

Wen Du paused, her expression turning serious, her pupils reflecting only the woman before her.

“So, all these questions—are you interrogating me?”

Under that gaze, Ji Tingxi’s softened for a moment. She seemed averse to the word “interrogating” between them.

“What do you think?”

“I think you suspect me now.”

“Director Wen, this morning you called home to have someone tend the potted plant outside the study. Now it’s been taken inside.”

Wen Du nodded lightly, awaiting the rest.

“That’s a withdrawal signal, right? The shop saw it and bolted to avoid capture.”

“Division Chief Ji, your imagination is impressive. It does sound logical,” Wen Du praised, her smile fading. “But I suggest you don’t assume guilt without evidence. It doesn’t sit well.”

“You think I lack evidence?”

Wen Du’s gaze locked on, delving into her eyes. “What evidence do you have?”

Footsteps echoed outside, hurrying toward the office, accelerating the room’s simmering tension.

Ji Tingxi slid her foot, wheeling the chair to the desk’s side. Their distance closed abruptly. Leaning in, her gaze enveloped Wen Du as her lowered voice brushed her ear.

“That should be Ruo Xing back with a report. I bet he’ll say the Summer Lotus owner and staff have vanished, comms gear gone. Their disappearance is my biggest evidence against you!”