Chapter 9: Stealing Files

On the way to work, the scenery was serene. After passing the garden in front of the row houses and a stretch of road with sparse traffic, she reached the Taina Riverbank. Crossing the Taina Bridge, the Wei Investigation Institute stood majestically amid the quiet, its white stone path leading up to gates guarded by Valkyrie statues that seemed to wave greetings from afar to every passerby.

Stone urns lined both sides of the Taina Bridge at intervals, each holding a vibrant bouquet of fresh flowers. Beside them, elfin sculptures gazed upward, exchanging glances with those crossing the bridge and silently wishing them a safe and trouble-free day.

The view from the bridge was the most beautiful, but Wen Du’s mood was the most complicated. She had built a Giel Bridge to ferry people to safety on the far shore, yet every day she had to cross the Taina Bridge toward the Wei Investigation Institute—a place that could end her life at any moment and send her straight to the underworld.

Fate was fair in its own way. She had opened a bridge to life, and fate had given her a bridge to death in return. A fair trade, all things considered.

But today, at this “boundary between the living and the dead,” something unusual appeared. Wen Du spotted it from afar and recognized it immediately: a plain white sedan with an unremarkable license plate—nothing lucky about the numbers. You could find a dozen like it on any street.

Insiders knew better, though. It belonged to the Police Bureau’s security squad, whose main job was inspecting and hunting Sern fugitives. Their safety captain always stopped by the Wei Investigation Institute before joint operations to meet with the Special Action Department and hammer out patrol plans.

After all, when it came to dealing with Sern people, no one was more expert than the Wei Investigation Institute. The Police Bureau brought the manpower to back them up.

With Chief Ji’s recent appointment and the arrest of the Zi Qin sisters, the patrol arrangements were bound to change from the usual. Partly to impress the new boss, partly to plug the holes for illegal escapes.

The Special Action Department would be buzzing today—lively and swamped, just the way Wen Du liked it.

She had discussed it with Yue Mu last night. At a time like this, with defenses tightened, smuggling Duo Lin out of the country would require knowing the patrol routes and checkpoints inside out—the precise deployments.

And this joint meeting was the perfect opportunity.

…

Wen Du arrived at her office right on time, as always. Glancing up, she saw the Shattered Ice Blue flower still thriving. Three days later, it showed no signs of wilting; if anything, it bloomed more boldly. The stem had curved over the vase rim, twisting as if primping provocatively right in front of her eyes.

Wen Du kept her expression calm. She swapped it with the faux hydrangeas in the vase, turning it toward the “Strict and Proper” characters on the opposite wall so it could flaunt its seductive form freely.

Three tasks awaited on her desk that morning. First, update the Gailie language entries. Second, handle the files forwarded directly from the General Affairs Office. Third, review the intel submitted by the Internal Investigation Section.

By urgency, she should start with the third—it concerned movements by the Sern Jili organization and involved the Sern language, so it had been routed through the Intelligence Division for translation.

The Special Action Department deadline was 1 p.m. that afternoon. She had three hours left. If she missed it, they’d come knocking in person, probably still packing heat from whatever op they’d just wrapped.

No one in the institute handled guns as routinely—or as deftly—as the Special Action Department crew. Even for the sake of their firepower alone, she ought to prioritize their request. But Wen Du wasn’t rushed. She had her own plan.

Leisurely, she opened the General Affairs Office files and polished them word by word, taking her sweet time. She turned a simple everyday phrase into the elegant prose of a literary master.

Two relaxed hours were plenty to transform a hundred-word blurb into exquisite essay—and still leave time to admire the pothos in the corner or dust inside the lampshade.

During her break, she made a trip to the Intelligence Collection Division. Twice, she paused by the side stairs. Peering through the narrow hallway window, she caught sight of a white car slipping out the rear gate, vanishing along the tree-lined avenue.

The Police Bureau rep had left. The joint meeting was over. Time to move.

Wen Du hurried back to her office and picked up the receiver, dialing home.

Yue Mu answered after three rings. “Hello?”

“Sister Mu, I forgot my meds today. I need to take them right after lunch. Could you bring them over?”

“Of course, Miss Wen,” Yue Mu replied.

Wen Du hung up and opened the Information Room operations platform. She pulled up the Special Action Department file, scrolled down one line past the cursor, then blanked the screen and headed to the restroom.

She chose the farthest stall but didn’t use it. Instead, she lifted her wrist and watched the seconds tick by on her watch.

11:50. 11:51. 11:52. 11:53…

The long meeting had just ended, and noon approached. Most Special Action Department operatives should be heading to the cafeteria by now, leaving the office areas sparsely staffed.

At exactly twelve, Wen Du flushed the toilet. The rushing water echoed through the spacious restroom. Even with no one else around, she played her part meticulously—drying her hands under the air blower before strolling back to her office.

Sure enough, as she sauntered in late, An Erdong from the Special Action Department’s Internal Investigation Section waited impatiently at the door, scratching his head and cheeks raw until red welts appeared. Spotting her was like a starving monkey sighting a banana; he bounded forward in one long stride.

“Director Wen, have you finished reviewing the files? I don’t see anything on the platform!”

The institute’s operations platform streamlined inter-departmental collaboration. Special Action could upload files needing translation, Information Room would process and return them, and only authorized users could access—balancing security and convenience.

Wen Du walked inside, her demeanor friendly as always. “Sorry, Section Chief An. The General Affairs Office sent something urgent, and I just wrapped that up.”

An Erdong nearly choked. “You haven’t even started on ours, have you!?”

“I have.”

Wen Du fired up the display, showing her progress. The review interface glowed green on the first two lines—approved. The rest remained blue, awaiting attention.

“Director Wen, you…”

She’d started, technically—but barely. Rounded up, it was as good as nothing.

“Sorry about that. I’ve got a bit of a cold and stomach issues. Just hit the restroom. No worries, though—this one’s quick. Have a seat; I’ll run through it now.”

Wen Du gestured to the sofa opposite. An Erdong sat, but his heart still raced. The wall clock’s hands didn’t just circle the face—they ticked inside his chest, each one spiking his blood pressure.

Wen Du, by contrast, felt her pulse steady and strong, perfectly synced to the clock as she timed it precisely.

“Come on, Director Wen, speed it up! Half an hour to deadline. I need to upload by one, plus collate the other docs, or Chief Ji will have my guts for garters!”

An Erdong’s eyes rolled upward dramatically, genuine panic over his job on the line.

Wen Du thought to herself that Chief Ji had real talent. In just a week on the job, she’d whipped her team into shape—enough to make one’s heart ache for their diligence.

Moments later, a flurry of spacebar presses and a final mouse click sent it back.

An Erdong sprang from the sofa. “No, I meant hurry, but review properly! A leak in the intel would be even worse!”

The printer whirred and spat out two color pages. Wen Du plucked them up and turned. “I’ll upload to the platform first. You take the hard copies to your office for on-site review—that way, you can handle your other stuff. I know it’s torture waiting here, Section Chief An.”

An Erdong pressed his palms together in thanks. “Much appreciated. I trust your speed, Director Wen.”

Section Chief An’s office was a “deluxe solo suite,” but his desk drowned under stacks of docs: Police Bureau liaisons, Intelligence Division collabs, materials from various Special Action sections. The luxury room had devolved into a cluttered junk heap.

Only the swivel chair opposite stayed guest-ready and clean. Wen Du wasted no words, settling in and diving straight into the work to save Section Chief An’s skin.

She’d already skimmed the entire memo—her subordinates’ translation was spot-on, no changes needed. So while she faced the pages, her eyes wandered twice toward the file box on his desk.

The Internal Investigation Section handled the institute’s main liaison with the Police Bureau. As section chief, An Erdong had to prep docs for the joint meeting—likely on border and key route patrols.

Rushing from the meeting room to chase her down, he hadn’t tidied the box. Whatever she needed should still be inside.

The key now: distract him and peek.

…

At the Wei Investigation Institute’s guard post, Yue Mu handed over the pill bottle to the on-duty operative. “Sorry to bother you. Miss Wen forgot her meds; I brought them. Could you let her know?”

The operative dialed the Information Room extension. After hanging up, he relayed: “Miss Wen’s out of the office right now. Her colleague will pass it on for her to pick up later.”

Yue Mu looked troubled, clutching her visitor pass tightly, refusing to budge. “Sorry, could you tell me where she is? She needs to take it soon—the antibiotic requires steady dosing, or the earlier ones won’t work!”

Any other visitor, the operative might ignore. But he’d seen Yue Mu before—Director Wen’s housekeeper, more doting than a mother, with the same relentless nagging. Better to make a call than endure half an hour of it.

…

In the Special Action Department’s Internal Investigation Section office, An Erdong jumped at the ringing phone, scalp prickling. He still had work unfinished—hoping it wasn’t another interruption. But it was for Wen Du.

She perked up at her name, smiled, and took the receiver. “Mm, the meds are here? I’ll grab them in a bit; I’m tied up ri… She’s been waiting? Okay, I’ll come right down.”

An Erdong had just exhaled when “right down” sent goosebumps rippling over him—worse than ice water down his collar.

“Wait—you’re going where?”

“Just picking up my meds. The housekeeper’s waiting, and it’s almost time.” Wen Du sighed lightly, set down her pen, and rose to leave.

An Erdong’s hands shot out to stop her, more frantic than whacking a gopher. He wasn’t holding her back—he was clutching his career’s lifeline.

“No, no! I’ll get it. You keep working; I’ll have it on your desk in a flash!”

An Erdong bolted so fast he whipped up a breeze that fluttered the papers. His departure plunged the office into silence—a suspiciously profound quiet.

Right then, most Internal Investigation Section operatives were at lunch. The hallway outside lay deserted. The section chief wouldn’t return anytime soon. His file box sat exposed on the desk corner, the office computer still glowing softly—paper and digital files alike, ripe for the taking.

The chance had come!

Wen Du sprang up and flipped open the blue box lid, rifling through. Stacks upon stacks: first, recent Internal Investigation Section logs; second, Police Bureau feedback; third… patrol in the title.

She split her focus, scanning documents with laser precision while ears strained for footsteps at the door, alert for surprises.

She found what she wanted, heart pounding faster. As she leaned in for details, her peripheral vision caught a shadow at the doorway—a figure half-visible, lurking just outside, spying without entering.

Her racing pulse skipped a beat, chill racing down her spine.

Wen Du stayed cool, snatching up the review draft nearby. She looked up naturally toward the office’s “observer.”