Wen Du nearly cried out in alarm, but the other woman quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.
Wen Du and Ji Tingxi had just enjoyed a pleasant weekend, leaving them both in comfortable moods.
But Bai Zhuo was a different story. He looked as if he had already worked a full week—or as though the weekend had never happened at all. His frustration and temper had built up to a breaking point, needing only the slightest spark to ignite.
“Those bastards. They always pull rank on their seniority, making decisions by who’s been around longer. But when it really counts, they flee faster than rabbits.”
An Erdong happened to be in the office. Seeing Bai Zhuo fuming mad, he quickly tried to console him.
“That’s just how they are. And with the key figure in custody, they caught wind of trouble. They probably went home that day and prepared for any counter-investigation.”
The information transmission had been disrupted midway by pursuit. The Gailie Forces knew they were exposed, so extracting more leads through Dai Enrui was nearly impossible. The Guard Institute had settled for the next best thing: using the information Dai Enrui provided to backtrack their contact lines.
But Bai Zhuo’s practical efforts proved that path was a dead end too.
Dai Enrui normally received her tasks at the central swimming hall, hidden in randomly selected lockers. Her online method involved email ads with information concealed in links.
However, Bai Zhuo’s two days of overtime over the weekend revealed that the person accessing the lockers couldn’t be identified. Whoever it was always wore a swim cap and goggles, then slipped into a surveillance blind spot after leaving, vanishing without a trace.
The online emails came from what appeared to be a company’s public account, but it was actually a hijacked personal mailbox, now deactivated.
The facts bore out Dai Enrui’s claim: she was just a pawn, one cog in the machine. She held no key role and offered no crucial intelligence.
Bai Zhuo, on the other hand, had suffered for nothing. After all his toil, his harvest amounted to zero.
He spent the weekdays probing the Libo Faction and the weekend chasing leads on Gailie Country. An entire week with no progress.
Even someone who loved his work as much as Bai Zhuo couldn’t swallow that bitter pill.
While others were worn smooth by their jobs, Bai Zhuo only grew sharper. Right then and there, he vented his fury and escalated the matter straight to the top of the Wei Investigation Institute.
He De and An Erdong had already braced themselves for no results. Instead, they ended up consoling him, urging him not to lose heart.
Bai Zhuo had originally focused most of his energy on the Libo Faction. But after clashing with Gailie Country, half of his unyielding resolve shifted there, leaving him grinding his teeth in hatred.
“It’s always like this. They’re the culprits and the ones who profit, yet we’re the ones who suffer. And they get off scot-free.”
He De understood what he was implying. The office had no listening devices, but from his position as Institute Director, he still had to correct him.
“Since Dai Enrui betrayed us, she can’t be counted as one of ours anymore. In the end, only they’ll suffer.”
Bai Zhuo realized his slip and swallowed his words, but the resentment stuck in his throat.
In the past, he had treated He De with respect and courtesy, holding back in his presence and choosing every word—and even punctuation—with care. But after working together on recent cases, Bai Zhuo knew He De saw through everything. As long as someone was truly serving the institute, He De would back and protect them. He overlooked minor details, letting them slide.
“It’s infuriating. In the Snake Mouth Bay incident before, we knew that Gailie tourist was suspicious, but we still had to let him go. Now we’ve finally nabbed an insider, and the trail breaks right here!”
He De set down his magnifying glass. The hotter his subordinate burned, the calmer he became.
“This insider is actually our biggest lead. We can’t follow the trail back to the source? No problem. We now know the melon patch exists, so the entire patch becomes our target.”
Lost in thought, the tense muscles on Bai Zhuo’s face momentarily froze, then relaxed. He seemed to grasp his leader’s meaning.
“While you were deep in your investigation, I finished compiling the report and sent it to the North District Guard Investigation Station. They’ve taken it seriously and forwarded it to the Central Security Investigation Department. We should hear results soon.”
“That’s great! You always have a plan. This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for!”
…
Two weeks after the Dai Enrui incident wrapped up, the Security Investigation Department, in conjunction with the Foreign Ministry, issued a public statement.
The address exposed Gailie Country’s sabotage within Bailunting: planting spies, stealing secrets. It strongly condemned Gailie for disregarding principles of international friendship and respect, violating Bailunting’s sovereignty and social security, and obstructing normal, amicable relations between the two nations.
Ruo Xing watched the live broadcast on the office network TV. He had been glued to it, utterly focused. When it ended, his steps felt lighter. He practically skipped to the Division Chief’s office, humming triumphantly.
“This settles the score from last time too. Now let the International Society see who’s really the shady one!”
Ji Tingxi had just finished watching the news as well. But she felt no thrill of vengeance avenged. If anything, she grew even more subdued.
“Everyone more or less knows about Gailie Country’s dirty tricks. It’s just that they’re powerful and good at building alliances. Under those interests, we have to play along.”
“Still, seeing them get publicly flogged is pure joy!”
Much of Ruo Xing’s glee was on Ji Tingxi’s behalf.
In the Snake Mouth Bay tourist incident, Ji Tingxi had deliberately muddied the waters to test reactions from the Rui’er Terrace and Gailie Country. In the end, though, she had eaten some humble pie while Gailie walked away clean. It itched at the teeth just thinking about it.
If the Rui’er Terrace had any victories that would make the Libo Faction clap in approval, it was their fight against Gailie Country. With a common enemy, the factions could set aside their hatred for now—deal with the foe first, then resume battling each other.
So Ruo Xing’s excitement was partly for the nation’s interests too.
“This happy? Want to celebrate?”
“Sure! There’s a new bar that just opened. If you don’t mind, want to check it out?”
…
“Gailie Country’s days ahead are going to be rough. They could barely squeeze through inspections before, but now Bailunting has the perfect excuse to tighten up on them again. Visas denied on a whim—they can’t even get through the border.”
“That’s a real setback for them.” Wen Du kept scooping up her mushroom soup with a spoon, letting it cool. The creamy soup swirled in the bowl, kicking up white foam that only made it thicker, almost like it was turning to cheese.
Seeing Wen Du’s subdued expression, Yue Mu sat beside her without pressing.
“Your forces’ operations are stalled, and you don’t seem pleased.”
“Yes,” Wen Du admitted. “They’re useful to us right now. With two hostile factions lurking in the Guard Institute, no matter how careful Miss Ji and I are, we might leave traces. At a time like this, the Gailie Forces make the perfect cover.”
“But you have to believe that even without entering as Gailie nationals—or even entering at all—they’ll find ways to carry out their plans. The Jili Organization is a prime example.”
Using proxies from other nations for disruption and division—commonly called “puppet strings.” The puppets danced on stage, but the hands pulling the strings hid in the shadows. That was Gailie Country’s specialty.
“I’ve been thinking: if three years ago, whether the Rui’er Faction, Libo Faction, or us, we had united against the outside and focused our hatred on the common enemy, would we even be in this mess today?”
Yue Mu looked astonished. “At this point, you still hold out such hope for the Rui’er Faction?”
“It’s not hope. Back then, Gailie Country stirred things up, pitting the Libo Faction, Rui’er Faction, and Yingli Faction against each other. Add in foreign dumping and crashing energy prices, public resentment boiled over. The whole nation was on the brink of fracture, while Gailie sat back and watched the tigers fight, waiting to reap the benefits.
“Though the genetic supremacists in the Rui’er Faction seized power and stabilized things, cooperation between the Rui’er Faction and other groups became impossible. With the Rui’er Faction in charge, they’re Gailie Country’s prime target—then and now. Gailie Country is our enemy, and so is the Rui’er Faction. At this stage, we need to strike a balance among them.”
Yue Mu understood her point. Ever since noticing the shift in Wen Du’s goals, she had stayed alert on the matter.
Her original aim had been direct and pure: focus all efforts on smuggling compatriots out. But now, with expanded objectives, Wen Du had far more to consider. Entangled interests and shifting dynamics grew ever more complex.
Yue Mu could see Wen Du leaning toward bigger gambles and wanted to grab her hand, to keep her from playing with fire and burning herself.
“Ah Du, after all we’ve been through, we should know by now that we can only rely on ourselves. Differing ideologies create irreconcilable rifts. Even with the Jili Organization, fellow Sern People, we can only use them because of clashing core beliefs—no real partnership. You can leverage other factions, but I hope you won’t trust them. Or rather, don’t pin your hopes on them.”
Yue Mu didn’t reach out, but Wen Du did, placing her palm over Yue Mu’s hand to offer reassurance.
“Don’t worry. I know my limits.”
“Alright, I trust you. So at this critical juncture, what’s your plan?”
The mushroom soup had cooled enough, with no steam rising anymore. Wen Du ladled a bowl for Yue Mu and thoughtfully handed over the utensils.
“Miss Ji got word from the East District Security Investigation Station. They need to escort the Zi Qin sisters back to the Meisi Labor Camp.”
Like Wen Du when she first heard, Yue Mu froze instantly.
“What!? Back to Meisi? For the Wei Investigation Institute, wouldn’t the safest move right now be to deal with them on site? What makes these Zi Qin sisters so special that the institute is going to all this trouble shuttling them back and forth?”
“That’s what puzzles us too. So I suspect the Defense Adjustment System wants to use the Zi Qin sisters to lure out the Gailie Forces again and make another move.”
Yue Mu had spent years at Wen Du’s side, absorbing a big-picture mindset through constant exposure. But her first reaction to the news was still: “So… are we saving them?”
As long as the Zi Qin sisters left the Guard Institute’s holding cells, Giel would have his chance to act.
The beef in her mouth was chewy. Wen Du chewed it slowly, not answering right away. Her thoughts drifted back to a few days earlier, in Moon Coral Park—
Should she bypass Ji Tingxi and take the risk?
…
The investigation into the escort vehicle incident was nearly complete, but Ji Tingxi had thrown a timely wrench into things with a fresh angle: in the case, they had questioned security personnel, traffic police, and the escort team—but not the Zi Qin sisters themselves.
The sisters were the victims at the center of it all. Why not ask them?
She argued that Gailie Country might not only want intel on the labor camp but also aimed to spring the Zi Qin sisters. If so, they likely tried contacting them, and the institute had simply missed it.
She escalated the idea to the Institute Director’s office.
After the escort vehicle case, Ji Tingxi’s standing with He De had recovered substantially.
She had spotted the drone back then thanks to her sharp instincts and unique perspective. So when he heard this proposal, He De didn’t block it. With the prisoners about to be transported, questioning them beforehand was paramount.
He immediately relayed orders to the General Affairs Office, authorizing Ji Tingxi to interrogate them.
Unlike ordinary prisoners, the Zi Qin sisters’ guards fell under the General Affairs Office’s special duty section. Without the Institute Director’s say-so, no one could see them.
Once she secured interrogation rights, Ji Tingxi submitted another request: have Wen Du serve as Sern Language interpreter.
Her reasoning was airtight: Zi Qin and Zi Cen spoke Homer Language, but their mother tongue would surely make communication smoother. And if the Gailie Forces contacted them, they’d use a language familiar to Sern People.
Interrogations of non-Homer speakers typically included interpreters, but Wen Du, as Director, oversaw the entire Information Room. Routine translation work usually didn’t fall to her.
This time, though, Ji Tingxi specifically named her—bold move. The request lingered in the Institute Director’s office for a while until they checked with Wen Du first.
“Director Wen, are you willing?”
“If the Special Action Department needs it, of course I am.”
“Good. Please prepare. Interrogation starts in two hours.”
By now, Wen Du had made every preparation.
In her plan, she could converse with the sisters in Sern Language during translation. But she couldn’t smuggle in private questions or messages.
The General Affairs Office would monitor in real time, and after Meisi reviewed the full recording—including the Sern Language portions—any funny business would show.
During the session, glances, gestures, and speech patterns were all off-limits. She needed another way.
Wen Du reviewed the materials Ji Tingxi provided and noted that the questioning involved identifying suspicious individuals near the escort vehicle.
She would sit beside Ji Tingxi, who led the interrogation while Wen Du assisted. During the main questioning, she could hold files up for the sisters to confirm.
Wen Du had observed before: room surveillance captured the interrogator’s face and the suspects’ every move, but when files were handed over, the suspects’ heads blocked the view of the contents.
Words wouldn’t work—so text would.
Wen Du pulled an A4 sheet from the printer, trimmed it into a small square for easy fingering and clipping into folders.
She kept an ear on the hallway while preparing the note. The process dragged on tensely. Finally, she slipped the paper into her sleeve cuff, leaned back in her chair, and exhaled deeply.
Even with years of undercover experience, dancing on danger’s edge daily, she still felt nerves. Especially now, facing not just General Affairs surveillance but Ji Tingxi’s watchful eyes.
Two hours later, Ji Tingxi came personally to the Information Room and invited her to the first-floor Interrogation Room. En route, Wen Du patted her sleeve to confirm the paper’s secure hiding spot.
Passing the first-floor restroom, Ji Tingxi paused. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure. Give me the files—I’ll carry them.” Wen Du took the folder helpfully.
But Ji Tingxi didn’t enter. Instead, she said, “The interrogation will run long. Director Wen, join me? No need to leave midway.”
Wen Du had prepared for this beforehand and didn’t need to go.
“Go ahead. It’s standard—empty the tank before starting.”
Well, hard to refuse such courtesy. Wen Du weighed the files in her hand, stepped into a stall. Fortunately, it had a shelf for busy folks like her who never parted from documents.
She set down the files and turned to lock the door when Ji Tingxi suddenly yanked it open, moving so fast she nearly headbutted Wen Du. She almost cried out in alarm, but the other woman quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.
