Chapter 77: Pact of Cooperation

On June 21st, Wen Du finished her overtime work at seven in the evening.

After eating dinner at home, she would normally head upstairs to the second floor, either to handle office work or read a book—she never idled about. But today, she carried a cup of tea and sat by the windowsill on the first floor, idly flipping through a magazine in her hands.

By seven-thirty that evening, the door rang. Wen Du welcomed her guest and led her straight up to the study on the second floor. The study’s windows were still draped with a layer of gauze curtains, partially obscured by the potted plants outside, just as they had been last time.

“Miss Ji, you really go through a lot. Every time you work overtime, you not only miss dinner but even supper.”

“It’s fine. My stomach adjusts its ideal feeding time on its own.”

No sooner had Ji Tingxi finished speaking than she noticed the desserts arranged on the round table. She smoothly took a seat by the desk, her lips curving upward uncontrollably. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the colorful pastries, as if they had painted her gaze.

“Did you prepare these for me?”

Wen Du sat down at the desk as well, her smile warm and gentle. “Mainly because I was worried you’d go hungry and your thinking wouldn’t be as sharp.”

“With Miss Wen looking out for me so thoughtfully, my mind is sure to work at full speed.”

With that, Ji Tingxi picked up a cake roll. She hadn’t felt particularly hungry on her rush over, but now the pastry melted in her mouth, and her stomach finally reacted—it turned out she really was starving. The bit she’d eaten earlier at the Guard Institute seemed utterly useless, completely overpowered by this one piece of cake.

“Once you’ve eaten my food, you’re my honored guest. Asking you for something now—would that be easier?”

Ji Tingxi replied, “Let’s hear it.”

“To assist your faction, we’ve already taken action. We’re planning to divert attention toward the Jili Organization to lighten your load. But to provide better help, I now need the patrol arrangements map for the city, along with any regular changes. Would Miss Ji be able to provide that?”

North County City held a strategically vital position. Beyond the strict highway toll stations, the city itself had meticulous road patrols and spot checks once you entered, handled jointly by the Special Action Department and the Police Bureau’s patrol officers. They coordinated unified deployments, deciding on checkpoints and inspections for various roads based on the situation.

After the borders opened, tourist and trade vehicles from outside the country flooded in. To show sincerity and facilitate cooperation, inspections had been relatively lax, giving the Giel Organization excellent opportunities. But now, with Kangman planning a factory in North County, the Giel Organization would surely leverage the enterprise for sensitive activities. They needed to avoid high-frequency patrol routes to prevent alerting the enemy.

Ji Tingxi guessed the deeper intent behind the request as soon as she heard it. Though Wen Du framed it as benefiting the Libo Faction, the ultimate goal was undoubtedly serving the Sern Organization itself.

She could indeed obtain the specific patrol arrangements, but she didn’t fully control them. With Bai Zhuo’s interference, even important figures from her own faction faced risks entering the city.

“As for the patrol arrangements, I’ll tell you once we formally cooperate.”

Ji Tingxi finished her cake, which sweetened her expression but not her words. She remained all business.

Wen Du maintained her pleasant smile and politely inquired, “I’ve been seeking a chance to cooperate. When might Miss Ji give me a definitive answer?”

Ji Tingxi’s eyes sparkled. Now, looking at Wen Du, she felt even more confident—the task issued just two days ago had already prompted action from the Sern Organization. Surely, they could handle the major upcoming mission brilliantly too!

“On June 23rd, a man needs to enter North County City. You must escort him safely inside by eight a.m. on June 24th, without alerting any agencies in the city. Can you do it?”

…

That evening on June 21st, Ji Tingxi strictly managed her time and entered the Red Show Theater on schedule to watch the evening’s featured performance.

However, Yan Ge’s expression was more complicated today. He remained enthusiastic, but beneath that fervor lurked an anxiety he couldn’t fully suppress.

He always respected Ji Tingxi’s ideas and executed them faithfully. Yet when he learned of this arrangement, he froze for several seconds, nearly tipping the cocktail shaker in his hand as liquor dripped steadily onto the floor.

Ji Tingxi noticed and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this, some new pouring technique?”

“Sorry about that.” Yan Ge righted the shaker. He was supposed to mix a whiskey cocktail, with the recipe already formed in his mind, but now his head was filled with plans and schemes—a mental state of total sobriety.

“This Saturday? Is there enough time?”

“I only learned of it today. Zi Qin and Zi Cen are being transferred to the Labor Training Camp this Saturday morning. At that point, the Guard Institute’s entire field force will be tied up with the escort, making it the weakest point in patrols—the perfect window for Mr. Cheng to enter the city.”

“I get the timing… but having the Sern Organization escort Mr. Cheng— isn’t that too risky? We were at each other’s throats with them not long ago, and now we’re handing such a key figure over to them?”

“From bitter feud to calm waters, there has to be a transition, right?”

Tonight’s show was an opera, with half the stage time devoted to soaring arias. Ji Tingxi simply leaned back against the sofa cushion, giving her eyes a rest.

“I’ve always known Director Wen of the Information Room at the Guard Institute is a formidable figure. She’s already figured out your real identity, and you don’t want to keep fighting the Sern Organization. But though they’re not our main enemy, they’re still unpredictably dangerous. I’m worried entrusting this mission to them might invite unnecessary complications.”

Ji Tingxi rarely explained herself in detail, sticking to her Guard Institute style of strict obedience to orders. But she knew this operation was unusually bold; she needed to give him solid reasons to soothe his uneasy heart.

“Yan Ge, do you think we could escort Mr. Cheng into the city ourselves successfully?”

“There’s a chance, but with risks.”

“Big risks at that. Mr. Cheng was once mayor of E’an City and ran in two elections. He’s appeared on major media outlets—practically a national celebrity. If he enters North County territory and a patrol officer spots him, they won’t even need ID checks to confirm who he is.”

On stage, the actress in a glittering tight skirt threw her arms wide, hitting the climax. Her tragic aria burst from her chest, flooding every corner of the theater, piercing straight through the audience’s hearts and setting them all pounding.

Ji Tingxi seemed naturally impervious to the high notes, reclining against the sofa’s fine velvet pillow. Her voice matched her demeanor—steady and strong.

“In the short term, I can’t guarantee Mr. Cheng’s safe passage into the city at one hundred percent, not even eighty. But the Sern Organization has built a complete transport network that’s proven itself in practice.

“Before I got involved, no one even detected them. They smuggled people out of North County borders without a trace. Even now, if I try to catch them, I only nab stragglers—I can’t wipe them out in one go. We have to respect that counter-surveillance and evasion capability.”

As she spoke, she glanced up, signaling Yan Ge to keep mixing. She couldn’t end up parched after all that talking with nothing to drink.

Yan Ge got the hint, adding lemon juice and ice before sealing the shaker and shaking it rhythmically. “I’m not worried about their skills. What concerns me is if they take Mr. Cheng and don’t follow through—instead holding him hostage to threaten us.”

“Right now, I hold their most valuable asset in North County City. Her weight to the Sern Organization is no less than Mr. Cheng’s to us. Plus, they prioritize stability and safety, just like we do now. If they complete the task, we can have mutual benefit through cooperation. If they betray it, they should prepare for another deadly enemy.”

“After weighing it all, I believe they won’t sabotage things—they’ll go all out to succeed.”

The opera’s high notes had faded into deep, winding lows that underscored her words, lending each one added weight and depth.

Yan Ge finished the cocktail; the clinking of ice against the shaker finally ceased. In the sudden quiet both inside and outside the box, he couldn’t help turning to study her.

Ji Tingxi still lounged against the pillow, her gaze fixed on the ornate ceiling flowers, as if tracing their edges. From Yan Ge’s angle, her nose pointed toward the stage, her eyes aimed at the middle distance, the graceful arc from forehead to bridge adding depth to her features. The shifting shadows seemed to hint at her inner thoughts.

In that moment of observation, Yan Ge’s understanding of her deepened once more.

He had always known she carried a certain coldness. Now he realized it wasn’t targeted solely at enemies—it could turn inward too.

In other words, her coldness was innate to her character, woven into her thinking. When necessary for a goal, she could choose sacrifice—sacrificing something, even a heavyweight figure, as a gambit for maximum gain.

Yet he also clearly grasped that her coldness stemmed not from indifference or selfishness, but from a higher vantage: a comprehensive assessment of factional interests. Strip away personal sentiments and minor disputes, and what emerged was a supreme rationality, crystalline and cool, devoid of warmth from afar.

Yan Ge raised no objections. Cheng Yiqing hoped to reach North County by Saturday at the latest—this was currently their only option.

The performance finally ended to orderly applause throughout the theater. The curtain slowly descended around the stage, giving the performers time to take their bows and the audience a chance to rest or leave.

Ji Tingxi sat up, recapping aloud. “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame is in two acts, climaxing with the ensemble singing the Song of Destiny. Tonight we saw the first act.”

Yan Ge nodded in agreement. Ji Tingxi downed the cocktail in one go, skipping any slow savoring.

She had once been a cultured soul herself, but work had squeezed out her leisure time. Even attending operas was now just memorizing synopses to pass inspections.

With the information relayed and explanations complete, it was time to go. Ji Tingxi grabbed her bag and headed to the door, then turned back with one last instruction.

“Oh, right—next time we pass messages, let’s switch to the new method. Bai Zhuo’s been watching me closely lately. We can’t let my actions make the theater unsafe.”

…

This was the first time Ji Tingxi had faced doubts from one of her underlings. For Wen Du, though it wasn’t the first time, it was the most intense—Yue Mu’s reaction was fiercer than ever.

That evening, after her “secret talk” with Ji Tingxi, it was late. She should have washed up and gone to bed. Instead, Yue Mu stood by the bathroom door, her face a riot of colors more vivid than the soap dish inside.

“Ah Du, I still can’t believe you agreed to Ji Tingxi’s demand! They’d have our full route tracked. If we really bring the guy in, our transport lines will be completely exposed!”

“If we don’t expose them, how will they trust us?”

Wen Du squeezed through the gap between Yue Mu and the door, reaching the sink smoothly.

“Besides, the Libo Faction already has established routes. They’re risking it to have us escort him, so I’m certain he’s a core figure—likely a former election candidate, known nationwide. That’s why they can’t use the standard paths.”

Yue Mu turned, trying to snatch the mousse. “Core figure or not, it doesn’t mean the Libo Faction won’t act rashly. Don’t forget—Ji Tingxi holds you, our biggest hostage. She could do plenty!”

As soon as the mousse came out, bubbles formed. Wen Du rubbed it onto her face a few times, then a bit more since they were talking.

“Yes, actually, I’ve already been exposed to Ji Tingxi. The evidence she has, if reported, would trigger an investigation into my document translations. My intentional mis-translations and misinterpretations caused mission failures at the Guard Institute—that charge alone is enough to erase me from there. She could have killed me outright, earning He De’s trust and reclaiming power. No need for shady deals.”

“But even if Ji Tingxi could take you out, she still couldn’t uncover our routes, right? Aren’t you afraid this is a trap to lure us out for a clean sweep? And it’d let her claim even bigger merits with He De!”

Wen Du was about to turn on the faucet when her hand paused. Mousse mixed with water droplets fell from her fingertips into the sink, silent on impact, but the sensation lingered, amplified in that instant.

—How could she not have considered that possibility? She was someone who overthought everything. Alone at night, tossing and turning, even in the split seconds between keystrokes, her mind calculated every scenario.

She knew Ji Tingxi’s dangers and unpredictability better than anyone. If Ji Tingxi was a blade, Wen Du had measured its curve with her own flesh and tested its edge with her blood.

Her understanding ran bone-deep.

But precisely because of that understanding, she chose to trust—or rather, to bet. And she had the confidence to win that bet.

From the start, Ji Tingxi’s attitude toward the Sern people had been ambiguous. She never used torture, never demeaned them. Even when the General Affairs Office guard was about to shoot Xia Lie, her first instinct was “Don’t shoot.”

Deep down, she held no prejudice against the Sern people—treated them as equals. That was the foundation allowing cooperation between Wen Du and her.

Moreover, after clashing with the Giel Organization for so long, Ji Tingxi surely appreciated its strength. Its roots in North County City ran as deep as the Libo Faction’s. It had complete, covert systems for personnel transport and info relay—valuable assets it could offer the Libo Faction.

Wen Du believed Ji Tingxi, like her, prioritized the big picture over past grudges. Long-term, leveraging the vast Giel Organization made far more sense than making an enemy of it.

Three drops of mousse had fallen. Wen Du turned on a trickle of water to rinse her hands.

“Sister Mu, I understand your concern—it’s valid. Taking the escort mission exposes our tracks, but it exposes theirs too. This core figure is surely here for a major task. We can shadow the route fully, then track him after delivery. Even if Ji Tingxi tries to turn on us later, we’ll have leverage and countermeasures. We take risks; they do too. Don’t worry—before execution, I’ll plan meticulously to protect us.”

With that, Wen Du started brushing her teeth, assuming Yue Mu would leave the bathroom and respect her decision.

But Yue Mu stayed put, her brows knitting with deeper doubt.

She knew Wen Du well. Even with leverage over her held by Ji Tingxi, she could remain composed and carry on. But this demand implicated not just her, but the Giel Organization itself. Any slip could expose their lines, severing a major artery.

In the past, Wen Du would never agree. Everything she did protected the organization’s safety—every member’s safety.

So her decision now, and the resolve she showed, left Yue Mu baffled.

—It couldn’t be fear for her own safety forcing her hand.

Wen Du finished brushing and turned to meet Yue Mu’s eyes. In them, she saw the settled worry, finally grasping her true concern—Yue Mu’s opposition wasn’t just about the mission’s dangers; she’d sensed Wen Du’s subtle shift.

“Ah Du, tell me the truth. What are you really up to?”