Chapter 63: What a Big Shot—How Come I’m Only Meeting Her Now?

Such a big shot, and here I am only just meeting her now!

Wen Du had grown accustomed to juggling multiple identities—university professor, family teacher, director at the Guard Institute, Giel Organization undercover operative. But suddenly losing two of them left her feeling off-balance. She was temporarily cut off from the organization and hadn’t visited He Lilin’s home lately.

Her covers as an undercover agent and family teacher now hung in precarious limbo.

With those two roles sidelined, Wen Du hadn’t expected to feel any lighter. Instead, an unsettling sense of weightlessness crept in, like she’d built up her strength but had nowhere to unleash it. The pent-up energy festered inside her, threatening to turn inward as self-destructive frustration.

Still, without those tasks weighing on her, things had eased up considerably.

Wen Du’s daily routine at work involved cross-checking translation and decryption reports from the Intelligence Division. She also noticed that assignments related to the Sern language were dwindling by the day. It seemed the Special Action Department had eased off its pursuit of the Giel Organization, shifting focus to the Libo Faction instead, with texts limited to the Homer language.

Had they truly redirected their attention?

Wen Du didn’t buy it. The seed of suspicion Ji Tingxi harbored hadn’t been uprooted yet. Chief Ji was likely just burying it temporarily under pressure from Institute Director He De.

As long as that seed remained, it could take root and sprout at any moment. And the nourishment it craved? The bones of the Giel Organization, turned to fertilizer.

In other words, as long as Ji Tingxi was around, Wen Du would stay on her guard. After the institute-wide lockdown, she’d learned a hard lesson: if she couldn’t remove the seed from Ji Tingxi’s mind, she’d have to remove Ji Tingxi herself.

On June 7th, alongside her routine duties, Wen Du received a joint investigation request from the North County Police Bureau.

The last time she’d collaborated with the police had been back in April, helping Sha Jiali track down Luo Zi’s whereabouts—the very incident that had exposed the organization.

Wen Du approached this sudden request with suspicion. As she headed to the police headquarters, her mind raced with possibilities of it being a trap.

The atmosphere inside the building felt strangely off-kilter. An officer escorted her to the office of the Patrol Police Team’s deputy captain, then left her alone. No one came to exchange pleasantries or brief her. Wen Du waited for what felt like ages before the door finally opened again.

The woman who entered wore a black uniform, her shoulder and collar insignia gleaming silver—one black, one silver, dark and bright playing off each other to project an intimidating chill.

The face framed by that uniform offered no warmth to her guest. Her features were sharply chiseled, from the high brow bone to the deep-set eye sockets, layering the coldness even further. Her gaze seemed to slide over everything in icy waves.

“Hello, Director Wen. I’m Deputy Captain Du Lengding of the Patrol Police Team at the Police Bureau. I’ll be your point of contact for this joint investigation.”

Wen Du had already spotted the nameplate on the desk when she entered.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Du. I’m more than happy to assist.”

Du Lengding opened a folder and handed it over for her review. Wen Du had handled so many documents that a quick scan gave her the gist.

The Patrol Police Team had recently zeroed in on a drug trafficking ring with Sern buyers involved. For convenience and to evade detection, the group was using the Sern language for secret communications.

To accurately track their internal chatter, they needed a Sern language expert’s help.

Wen Du always kept a low profile, but after reading the request, she couldn’t help but wonder why. This kind of task could be handled by any decryption specialist or even sent digitally to the Information Room.

For someone of her stature, wasn’t this a bit like overkill…?

“Eagle’s Eye Overlooks the Earth.”

Wen Du looked up from the documents. “Giel Bridge Ferries Life.”

Du Lengding formed a circle with her thumb and forefinger, looping it around her wrist and adjusting her cufflink. “Headquarters knows about Station Chief Xia’s sacrifice. Until the new communication line is established, I’ll be your contact.”

Suddenly thrust into unfamiliar surroundings, facing a stranger, and handed an unfamiliar task—yet expected to dive into the most sensitive discussion—left Wen Du struggling to adjust.

She stared into the other woman’s eyes, searching for reassurance.

A hint of warmth finally surfaced in Du Lengding’s gaze. Though her expression remained unchanged, an air of trustworthy sincerity settled in.

She was with the organization.

Wen Du glanced again at her insignia. A Patrol Police captain was on par with her own position. For headquarters to dispatch someone so prominent as her liaison spoke volumes about the fallout from the Summer Lotus Flower Shop incident. They were short on manpower and secure lines, yet couldn’t afford a prolonged blackout with her. So they’d taken the risk, deploying a heavyweight asset.

“Hello. Is the Giel line still operational?”

“It’s fine. Over the past two weeks, we’ve smuggled three batches of ‘cargo’ across the border.”

This was the first good news in ages.

Wen Du almost wanted to pop open some champagne. With the Special Action Department fixated on hunting undercover agents—locking down their own operatives and keeping it quiet from other agencies—it created a golden window for border extractions.

The Giel Organization had seized it, hitching rides on trade and tourism routes to escort thirty-two souls to safety in one go—their fastest success since inception.

“Also, do you remember when the Kangman representative visited, and Station Chief Xia passed along a photo of a mysterious man for headquarters to investigate?”

Wen Du recalled it. She’d seen the photo; it was on the USB drive with her files, handed off to Keqi.

“Based on the image, headquarters identified him as Ye Wa, a biologist who returned from Kangman three months ago. He brought a shipment of Kangman medical equipment with him.”

“But what would a biotech expert—previously poached by Kangman at top dollar—want with one of our labor training camps?”

Labor camps had high entry barriers; for ordinary folk, getting in was harder than breaching the Leader’s Mansion. But that didn’t make them desirable. To most, they were remote mountain hellholes—strictly selected prisons that ranked only slightly above actual hell in popularity. No one lined up for a visit.

And now this: surveillance caught a renowned expert riding in a private car straight to Snake Mouth Bay Labor Camp. It was like treating priceless agarwood like mere firewood.

“Headquarters is intrigued by that too. From what they know of Ye Wa, he’d do plenty for the right price—including serving foreign powers or jumping ship on a dime. Right now, it looks like the Rui’er Terrace lured him back with a fat paycheck.

“That suggests something in the labor camps requires high-tech expertise—far from the simple ‘farming vegetables’ line they feed the public. Headquarters wants us to dig deeper, see if we can uncover evidence of inhumane practices.”

“Got it. I’ll keep an eye out for relevant intel. If possible, I’ll check the Guard Institute’s labs for any ties to Snake Mouth Bay.”

Du Lengding checked her watch. They still needed to put on a show at the task force meeting, discussing the drug case details. They couldn’t linger too long in private.

“Director Wen, anything else you need to know?”

Two weeks of isolation meant a flood of updates, but Wen Du knew time was short. She prioritized the essentials.

“Any news on the Jili Organization? Especially around Merle.”

“The Merle Guard Institute wants to use Zi Wan to nab more Jili members, but no progress yet. Probably Gailie Country interference.”

The Jili Organization alone wouldn’t make the Rui’er Terrace nervous. What they feared was Gailie Country backing it.

Gailie and Bailunting had clashed over energy long ago. After cross-border energy firms were ousted, cutting off their revenue, Gailie tried cultivating pro-Gailie forces inside Bailunting—propping up the Yingli Faction to meddle in elections and seize power.

The Yingli Faction’s core? Sern elites.

But before the election, Rui’er Faction heavyweights rolled out gene theory, sparking the Daisy Transformation. Sern people were demoted to second-class citizens, stripped of voting rights—dooming the Sern-led Yingli Faction.

Overnight, Yingli crumbled without a fight. Many members ended up in chains; others rebranded into what was now the Jili Organization.

They traded intellectual banners for guns, with Gailie Country still pulling strings.

Factions came and went, but Gailie endured.

Behind every riot in Bailunting lurked Gailie’s agitators. Wen Du was used to it by now—which explained why, despite shared Sern roots, Giel and Jili could never ally. Jili was Gailie’s tentacle in Bailunting; Giel wouldn’t dance with that.

Right now, Giel’s main foe was the Rui’er Terrace. But they shared a common enemy: Gailie Country.

“No change in Jili’s main operational areas?”

“None. The Rui’er Terrace can’t crush them, but they won’t let them roam free either. We’re still safe here.”

That confirmed Wen Du’s suspicions. The lockdown was pure fabrication, just a ploy to hunt internal moles—another of Ji Tingxi’s mad theatrics. But this time, the cost had been steep.

“Officer Du, I have a favor. Pass this to our underground contacts: Dig into Ji Tingxi’s history with the Libo Faction—what happened between them, how deep the grudge runs. If possible, make contact with Libo.”

Du Lengding met her eyes, gaze steady and sharp.

“You want to use Libo to take out Ji Tingxi?”

Wen Du neither confirmed nor denied, her attention drifting to the desk ornament.

A month earlier, she’d had a similar conversation with Xia Lie.

But last time, things hadn’t gone smoothly.

The ornament was a vintage vase, white porcelain veined with enamel that made the fake flowers inside look vividly real.

Their outlines reflected in Wen Du’s eyes, but dulled by familiarity with the genuine article. Rather than brighten her gaze, they dimmed it further.

…

That evening of June 7th, twilight had settled over Snake Mouth Bay, but the sky held layers of deepening blue. The river mirrored the scattered lights along the shore, twinkling like stars spilled onto the embankment—a night sky crouching at water’s edge.

In the thin veil of dusk, a sedan approached. Jet-black with a matte finish that swallowed light, it blended deeper than the shadows themselves. Even the headlight wells were pitch dark.

In the back seat, biologist Ye Wa peered toward the riverbank. As a photography enthusiast, the interplay of water and sky captivated him. He leaned toward the window, flicking on his phone’s flashlight to peer out.

“Sir, you can’t open the window,” the driver said gently.

“I know.” Ye Wa didn’t turn.

“Sir, no photos either.”

“I know that too.” Ye Wa pocketed his phone. “This isn’t my first time. I know the rules.”

“It’s my job to remind you, sir.” The driver flashed a warm smile in the rearview mirror—as if he’d cheerfully tie Ye Wa down if he got any rowdier.

Ye Wa gave up admiring the view, straightened up, and fixed his eyes on the driver and dashboard. Surely that would end the “gentle reminders.”

But inwardly, his rebellious streak grumbled silently.

“This dump sure has a lot of rules!”

…

Lately, Ji Tingxi had been pitching in across departments as an unofficial extra. When the Blue Training Department held its closing camp, she even volunteered to rehearse as emcee.

Everyone knew she wielded real power and had a packed schedule—how could they let her? They politely shuttled her in and out, urging her back to important matters.

And Ji Tingxi did have plenty. Top priority: handling the Zi Qin sisters.

Meisi Labor Camp had given them a week max.

But just as the deadline hit, their ploy worked—confirming the Sern Organization’s existence. For deeper probing, He De agreed to help extend it another week.

Now that week was up too, and Meisi Platform issued an ultimatum: Even if the girls died outside, send the bodies back—or operatives would come collect them personally.

No choice but to return them via the original route. Ji Tingxi headed to report to He De and finalize transport, but on the stairs, she ran into “non-essential personnel.”

Officers might not recognize everyone, but they knew her. The one she met grinned amiably. “Hey, Chief Ji. Got something to coordinate with you folks.”

“You must be beat, running between the Guard Institute and the Police Bureau these days.”

“Thanks for asking, Chief Ji. But Captain Du’s the one who really grinds. We’re just legwork.”

Captain Du?

Ji Tingxi eyed the file folder in his hand. A few days back, Wen Du had taken on a Police Bureau joint task, but Ji Tingxi hadn’t known who initiated it. This title stuck in her mind.

“Captain Du and Director Wen getting along okay?”

“Smooth as can be. See? Delivering materials.” He chuckled again.

“Go on up. Director Wen’s office is on the next floor.”

…

After Ji Tingxi left, an Intelligence Division staffer entered the Institute Director’s office with fresh decrypts.

He De had thought Ji Tingxi’s “brilliant ideas” were his biggest headache. But one glance at the decrypt made even her seem less infuriating.

“Is this verified?”

“Yes, double-checked.”

“Director Wen saw it?”

“She’s meeting Police Bureau folks. Dai Enrui reviewed it—says it’s spot-on.”

He De eyed the neatly trimmed paper again. The text’s edges cut sharp against the page, glaringly provocative.

—June 8th, 6:30 PM, twelfth stone pier at Snake Mouth Bay, near Snake Mouth Mountain base, facing west.

Original in Gailie language, three lines total. The rest undecipherable—no software or rules cracked it.

First Sern Organization, then Libo Faction out of nowhere. Those two unsolved, now Gailie traces?

These agitators weren’t content stirring trouble—they had to pile on?

He De had the decrypt sealed and dialed an internal line, inviting Section Chief Bai for a chat.

…

June 8th, Snake Mouth Bay.

As midsummer neared, sunsets grew more spectacular, blanketing the western sky and escorting the sun into the cloud sea until the last glow faded. In that pre-twilight glow, tourists trickled to the rocky shore.

One was a young man with deep features, backpack slung over his shoulders, sport watch on his wrist—like he’d just descended Snake Mouth Mountain.

Awed by the vista behind him, he faced the sunset, snapped a phone pic, then fiddled with angles and poses for the perfect shot.

Meanwhile, in the Special Action Department command room, He De stood with hands clasped behind his back, staring at the live feed on the big screen. His expression was indescribable; the mustache he’d groomed for years bristled in fury.

The screen showed the tourist’s selfie—luxuriously zoomed. Every detail popped: his grinning mouth revealed nostril hairs asserting dominance.

Bai Zhuo stood nearby, itching to pounce. “Director, Group 2’s locked in near the greenery. Grab him now?”

“Not yet. Tail him. Track 24/7.”

Bai Zhuo stepped to a quiet corner to relay orders. Ellen from Net Intelligence Section approached with a report.

“Dean He, ID check done. Tourist’s Kuper, dual Gailie-Kangman citizenship. Arrived North County June 7th with a Yecheng tour group. Ditched them after, went solo. Today, 4:30 PM, biked to Snake Mouth Park, then hiked through woods to Snake Mouth Bay shore post-statue.”

“Hm. That face screams Gailie. Didn’t expect such brazenness.”

Homer people often had gray eyes and hair; Sern brown-on-brown, all deep tones—easy to confuse at a glance.

Gailie folk across the ocean? Lighter hair, mismatched eyes—blue, green, brown, hazel—whatever their genes fancied.

“Can we see his phone screen?” He De asked.

“Not yet. No tracker.”

He De grunted noncommittally. “Dig deeper—his overseas posts, Gailie background.”

…

Bai Zhuo had been on the Red Show Theater case, but thanks to Ji Tingxi’s antics, three days’ delay let suspects vanish.

Post-lockdown, he’d pivoted to Xia Lie’s background but hit a wall at family ties—another dead end.

He wasn’t quitting, brainstorming next steps, when He De yanked him for Snake Mouth Bay duty.

Bai Zhuo often felt like a flea hopping grass patches, catching nothing.

But this mission was special.

He De was hypersensitive about Snake Mouth Bay, personally taking command and looping in the Northern District Security Investigation Station.

Tied up with He De and Bai Zhuo, Ji Tingxi wanted in but got rebuffed—leaving her rare downtime.

Finally, she could sit in her office, poring over Sern Affairs Bureau archives.

She already knew them inside out; these files had first clued her into the Sern Organization.

With the probe stalled again, Ji Tingxi returned to them, hoping to mine fresh insights.

Since He De’s scolding, her assignments had lost punch. Bai Zhuo, meanwhile, got to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the director.

Ruo Xing watched enviously, volunteering hotly for outer ops Group 2—only for Section Chief Bai to shoot it down: Chief Ji’s swamped and needs backup; you’re seasoned, better stick close.

Ruo Xing slunk back to Ji Tingxi.

She said nothing of his long face, promptly assigning him a task with a deadline to shake off his fixation on Bai Zhuo’s plum gig.

Deadline hit; Ruo Xing returned, standing to deliver. “Chief Ji, Officer Du’s file.”

Ji Tingxi skimmed it, then looked up. “Too wordy. Voice report.”

“Du Lengding, female, twenty-eight, Patrol Police deputy captain, North County Police Bureau, second-level inspector…”

“Key points only!”

“Post-grad, straight to the bureau as patrol cop. Hustled her way to Patrol Police Team through grit. Five years in, no family—work first, does everything hands-on.

“Sern-related crimes? Others dodge; she takes them. Handling Sern cases hurts promotions, but her diligence cleared the bureau’s headaches. Now she’s captain, with Sern criminal cases in her wheelhouse.”

Ji Tingxi’s ears and brain whirred, processing at speed.

As Ruo Xing finished, she jumped in seamlessly. “Remember our conference theory? Most Sern ‘disappearances’ aren’t abductions—they’re routed out via special channels.”

“Yeah, of course.” The spark of their “Sern dream.”

“With faked abductions confirmed, what if deaths are faked too?”

Her wild ideas once tormented He De exclusively. Now that he’d tuned her out, she turned them on her team—never bottling them up to fester.

“That’s tricky,” Ruo Xing countered, mustering logic and common sense. “Faking kidnaps? Easy—stage under cameras, erase trails. We still don’t know all their ‘tunnels.’

“But death scenes? Cops cut corners, but procedures, records, body disposal—that’s no small feat.”

Ji Tingxi nodded agreement, then volleyed another curveball. “Unless Sern Organization plants are in the police ranks?”

Ruo Xing opened his mouth—then froze. Why probe a cop’s background out of the blue?

Ji Tingxi snatched Du Lengding’s file, flipping through. The photo showed a woman with striking features, fair-skinned, refined Homer beauty—but those profoundly deep eye sockets hinted at hidden edge.

Ji Tingxi smiled, her bright eyes alight with eager thrill.

Such a big shot, and here I am only just meeting her now!