Chapter 1000: Who Exactly Is It?

(Just got flagged during the scheduled update, got up again to make revisions, and finally got approved)

The Li family has good fortune, and double joy is about to arrive.

With eldest daughter-in-law Zhao Yafang and second daughter-in-law Gu Ning joining the family, the household is growing and thriving.

Li Shun’s return home this time has left him thoroughly satisfied and deeply comforted.

But reunions are always brief, and partings always bring much reluctance.

On Sunday, Li Shun and Liu Yin had dinner at their second son’s home, and afterward enjoyed a brief moment of family bliss.

Especially little Li Shu, who is at the age of mischief, was overjoyed to have her grandfather visit.

Including Zhou Yamei and her son, the household had grown larger, and her hyperactive nature kept her playing until her energy was completely drained, at which point she fell asleep on the sofa.

The child’s energy wasn’t enough to keep her awake until her grandfather left.

After putting the child back to bed, Li Xuewu let Han Jiankun drive his parents home.

He accepted all the nutritional supplements his parents brought—this was their affection, and when they returned, he loaded the car with local specialties as a son’s filial offering.

During these days of Li Shun’s return, he hadn’t truly rested; besides handling family matters, he still had to manage work at his unit.

At year’s end, even if one had no social obligations, one could not escape the pressure of circumstances.

He could ignore himself, and even ignore the development of his eldest and second sons, since they weren’t in the same circle.

But his youngest son, Li Xuecai, would still need to study and work in the field of traditional Chinese medicine—how could he avoid networking?

Coming home once was already rare, and this visit, coinciding with the joy of a new grandson, was a chance to strengthen relationships.

People didn’t care about anything else—just his sons, and given this precarious time, his ability to walk away unscathed made it impossible not to owe him favors.

So even though Han Jiankun dropped Li Xuewu off at work on Monday and then took Li Shun and Li Xuecai back to the Sihe Academy, Li Shun still rushed through his mountain-down mission over these days.

Because of his busy work and numerous responsibilities, Li Xuewu couldn’t personally attend to his father as much as he’d like.

Fortunately, his father and third brother were together, and everyone at home felt at ease.

January 12, Monday.

Early Monday morning, after Li Xuewu had just entered his office and begun working, he received a notice.

The Management Committee resolved that the 1966 year-end summary meeting and the 1967 opening work conference for Hongxing Rolling Mill would be held next Monday, lasting one day.

Li Xuewu reviewed the agenda, which included speeches, commendations, and mobilization—much more streamlined than last year’s.

The reason was clear: with the Management Committee in charge, there were no more voting or hand-raising sessions; after departmental streamlining, operations were highly centralized, and most tasks had already been planned and summarized during regular work.

As always: big meetings handle small matters, small meetings handle big matters.

For this meeting, Li Xuewu’s main preparatory tasks were coordination and delivering a speech.

Unusually, his name appeared in the speech and remarks typically given by factory leadership.

The theme he needed to address was last year’s trade work summary and this year’s trade work expansion.

This was both his advantage and his responsibility as the trade work manager.

But within the factory administration, the general understanding was that Li Xuewu already held management authority over factory operations and was even being groomed by Li Huaide as a successor.

Li Xuewu wasn’t affected by these rumors—or rather, the gossip; his workload had increased, and so had his responsibilities.

Even though he was accustomed to his current pace, he still felt mentally drained on Monday.

In the morning, he met with Xie Lanzhi, the senior official in charge of personnel, to discuss the final batch of personnel recruitment and the ongoing competition assessment.

He expressed his own high regard for the matter and conveyed the leadership’s serious attitude toward the personnel reform plan.

Especially during this precious month, the Personnel Department must fully mobilize the enthusiasm of all workers for large-scale learning and improvement.

On the basis of ensuring fairness, transparency, and impartiality in the final assessment results, it must also ensure participating workers gain real knowledge and real skills through this activity.

The factory’s annual work goals had already emphasized many times the stance on personnel reform—Xie Dajie naturally understood.

That Li Xuewu, as deputy director of the Office, was sent by leadership to speak with her already signaled the leadership’s purpose and attitude toward this first major event of the year.

Without personnel reform, operational reform would yield half the results; everyone in the factory, from top to bottom, was watching the Personnel Department—Xie Dajie was under immense pressure.

While making a firm commitment to Li Xuewu, she also proactively sought guidance and support from him and the factory leadership.

Xie Lanzhi proposed that the factory provide support for supervision and enforcement, especially for the particularly heavy supervision workload.

Li Xuewu, carrying the leadership’s instructions, clearly stated that the Personnel Department should feel free to request any support needed to carry out the personnel reform.

In response to Xie Lanzhi’s request for supervision and enforcement support, Li Xuewu immediately pledged to coordinate with the Security Team to assign specialized personnel and form a dedicated task force to support the Personnel Department.

Regarding enforcement support, Li Xuewu also promised to coordinate with Deputy Director Jing to mobilize intern college students and outstanding workers and model individuals from various workshops.

He also reminded Xie Dajie that the Personnel Department must promptly build up training and assessment capacity.

Especially for training: theoretical knowledge can be learned in schools, but practical training requires experienced skilled workers to mentor.

The Personnel Department must proactively go to the workshops, selecting and cultivating a group of excellent mentors through actual work such as worker rank examinations and skills assessments.

If needed, the factory could also provide technical education subsidies and award outstanding bonuses to workers who show exceptional performance in mentoring.

Hearing this, Xie Lanzhi assured him she would complete this arduous task and take the first step toward the rolling mill’s groupization goal.

After concluding his talk with Xie Dajie, he met with Deputy Director Jing to summarize and arrange the merger of Factory Seven and Factory Sixteen from last week.

After the meeting, he further communicated with Jing Yunnong regarding the Personnel Department’s requested support.

First resolve financial support, then have Xie Lanzhi report and seek approval from Deputy Director Gu.

The skills competition had only this one month of golden training time; the entire factory took it seriously, and no one dared delay.

After discussing the merger, it was decided that next week would begin full takeover and inventory checks of both factories, and the component supply chain issue raised by Beijing No. 2 Auto Plant was confirmed.

This Thursday, the leadership of Beijing No. 2 Auto Plant will visit the rolling mill to negotiate this issue directly; Deputy Director Jing has already coordinated the talks.

Preparations for negotiations regarding foreign trade and commercial tour groups were also confirmed; the rolling mill’s commercial targets for this year still had gaps to fill.

The arrival of commercial tour groups was effectively the final solution.

Though now the entire factory’s attention was on personnel work, as if placing foreign merchants in international hotels meant they could be ignored,

That wasn’t true; even Jing Yunnong, responsible for negotiations, and Li Xuewu, responsible for coordination, were handling this work.

Jing Yunnong was also busy; when busy, her temper worsened, and she lost all trace of her British elegance from last Saturday.

Regarding financial support, Jing Yunnong showed a stingy side—if Li Xuewu hadn’t brought it up, she wouldn’t even have listened.

But now that Li Xuewu had spoken, and it concerned the key push of personnel reform, she reluctantly agreed.

Still, she warned that this expenditure would add a deficit to the factory’s books; now they were entering a period of austerity, and the second half of the year would require hard work to repay the debt.

Li Xuewu had no response to her seriousness; the factory’s books were nearly transparent—everyone knew clearly how much money there was or wasn’t.

As the saying goes: you don’t know the cost of rice and firewood until you manage the household; as long as you’re not responsible for finance, a deficit doesn’t concern you.

Everyone used to think that way, but this year, Jing Yunnong had incorporated financial budget assessments into the cadre evaluation system.

In other words, achieving great results with minimal spending better met the cadre performance standard.

No wonder both the factory administration and workshops complained: the more the factory developed, the heavier the pressure felt.

As Li Xuewu left Jing Yunnong’s office, Li Haiyang came to find him.

“Perfect, Deputy Director Li, here’s your meeting schedule notice.”

Li Haiyang handed Li Xuewu a document, smiling: “I was just about to go to the Security Building to find you.”

“Talking with Deputy Director Jing.”

Li Xuewu casually replied, then looked at the meeting itinerary and asked: “Why is there a ‘large-scale learning’ meeting?”

He frowned, looked up at Li Haiyang, and asked: “Do I need to attend?”

“Not just you—Director Li too.”

Li Haiyang handed him another document and quietly reminded: “Organized by the city—it specifically requires the heads of all units to attend.”

I’m not the goddamn head!

Li Xuewu mentally grumbled, his face showing reluctance; he opened the folder and found it was a magazine.

The “Red Flag” magazine—the factory subscribed to it for all deputy department-level cadres and above, on the same official level as “People’s Daily.”

Knowing Li Haiyang wouldn’t bring him something pointless, he stood in the hallway and opened the magazine to the folded page.

The article wasn’t published today—it was from yesterday’s latest issue.

Li Xuewu’s eyes flickered at the title and abstract; he looked up at Li Haiyang, then down again to read.

The article addressed recent shifts in the situation and targeted Shanghai…

After finishing the article, Li Xuewu’s brow furrowed deeply; he sighed heavily, returned the document to Li Haiyang, and said: “I understand.”

“Don’t forget you have a meeting in Jinmen on Saturday.”

Seeing Li Xuewu grasped the significance of Friday’s meeting, Li Haiyang reminded him of Saturday’s.

Li Xuewu nodded, lost in thought, said nothing, and walked downstairs with the document.

Li Haiyang had actually wanted to congratulate Li Xuewu—he’d heard that Li Xuewu’s secretary, Peng Xiao, had registered his itinerary with the Office.

Tomorrow, Tuesday, Li Xuewu will attend the annual security commendation meeting at the Grand Auditorium—the national commendation for outstanding security cadres.

But now Li Xuewu’s mood was low, and he knew it was because of the magazine article.

Li Haiyang helplessly organized his papers and told Li Xuewu only to be prepared.

Still, he needed to coordinate with Peng Xiao; otherwise, if Li Xuewu missed the meeting, it would be their responsibility.

As Li Xuewu walked downstairs, he kept thinking about what this editorial signified.

Directly speaking, from a propaganda perspective, the official in charge of propaganda had run into trouble, directly shifting the current propaganda direction.

Extending further from this editorial, over the coming period, the seeds of “large-scale learning” would bloom everywhere.

Li Xuewu knew well: organizational restructuring, management restructuring, establishing a three-party Management Committee—none of this was good for actual work.

The situation had already been complicated since the large-scale learning campaign began last May; now this editorial had poured oil on the fire, making everything even more obscure.

Li Xuewu wasn’t sure whether to think Li Huaide had grown wise.

The situation had turned turbulent, already affecting his own doorstep—he knew to drag him to meetings, yet still insisted: don’t forget to go play in Jinmen on Saturday!

Don’t listen to his nonsense about Zhou—why would they pick Saturday for a meeting in Jinmen?

Li Xuewu would bet his old Li’s head this trip is another frivolous outing.

According to Li Xuewu’s summary, Old Li has some awareness of the situation, but not much; he has self-control over desires, but damn it, not much of that either.

In the solemn grand auditorium, after the music ended, everyone followed instructions and took their seats.

Li Xuewu’s seat was in the middle, near the aisle, because their row would soon be called up on stage to receive awards.

Li Haiyang’s information was still inaccurate—he had checked into the designated hotel on Monday evening after work, as required by the conference staff.

Outstanding security and safety cadres and individuals from across the country, along with representatives from exemplary units coming to collect awards, gathered in one place.

On Tuesday morning, after breakfast, everyone donned uniform attire, wore all their medals, and were organized by the conference staff to proceed to the grand auditorium.

The attire was identical for all—no coats allowed, since it wasn’t cold.

A red heart worn on the head, red flags hanging on both sides.

Everyone dressed the same; only the number and rank of medals on the chest revealed differences.

Li Xuewu’s medals weren’t the most numerous, nor was any single one the most prestigious, but in terms of overall merit, the quality of his medals was truly extraordinary.

First came the medals earned in the military—won through sheer grit.

Anyone with basic knowledge could glance and instantly recognize the medal’s level.

Even though Li Xuewu was young, no one was surprised by the number of his medals—these days, capable and lucky people were everywhere.

Especially with the large scar on his face and his build, anyone could tell he’d carried out countless missions.

The other medal on his chest, from the industrial category, was particularly unusual.

Today’s ceremony honored security and safety achievements, yet he had a Model Worker medal—rare indeed.

Li Xuewu noticed the occasional glances from others, but he paid no mind.

These medals weren’t carved by his own hand, nor were they casually handed out by the factory—what was there to feel guilty about?

If it weren’t for official orders, he wouldn’t wear any of them at all; to him now, showing off honor in public meant nothing.

The conference proceeded decisively and swiftly; when it came time for Li Xuewu’s row to go onstage, everyone rose in unison and marched forward in perfect step.

Li Xuewu’s medal was special—it came with a certificate.

The medal was a Second-Class Merit awarded by the department; the certificate was a special commendation from the conference.

The title of “Outstanding Individual in Security and Safety Work” conferred by the Security and Safety Conference.

Li Xuewu knew the medal came from the case; the certificate came from his achievements during his year at the branch.

The branch hadn’t forgotten him, even though the Public Security Detachment had already been reorganized out.

The branch still owed Li Xuewu a favor for the case; in summarizing the year’s work, this certificate had to be awarded to him.

As for the medal, that was even harder to obtain.

Several First-Class Merits were collected by comrades or family members—fates unknown.

A few Second-Class Merits went to those who came up on stage injured; among them, Li Xuewu seemed the healthiest and youngest.

Even the leaders presenting the awards gave him several extra glances.

Those who knew the details grew even more curious.

On one hand, it stemmed from the Public Security Detachment’s founding and the evaluation of the Third Security Regiment’s combat effectiveness after reorganization—the feedback indicated Li Xuewu had made enormous contributions.

On the other hand, it came from the branch, from frontline personnel, and from recognition by discipline and inspection departments.

Especially his achievements in criminal psychology had greatly aided grassroots work.

During investigations and case handling, he applied professional knowledge to conduct detailed analysis and precise command, achieving miraculous results in his field.

Last night, Li Xuewu conversed with comrades from other regions and units, comparing their achievements; he thought the commendation was more than enough.

He hadn’t expected a double win—the honor title was one thing, but to also have it justified by work performance?

Receiving the Second-Class Merit meant at least five people from that case would face execution.

As for the other two hundred or so, their punishments need not be detailed—just look at the condition of those who stood beside Li Xuewu to collect awards.

One could say this Second-Class Merit was entirely bought with the lives and futures of those two hundred people—selflessly given.

But don’t expect Li Xuewu to thank them—it’s all he deserves.

Though he hadn’t expected it, Xiang Yun had repeatedly assured him that since he refused to make demands, they’d arrange things as he wished.

Li Xuewu knew that awarding this Second-Class Merit to someone no longer in the security system required tremendous effort from the branch and discipline inspectors.

Especially during this critical period, under the attention and pressure of certain individuals.

Of course, it also signaled their concession and retreat.

At least that person hadn’t caused him trouble in recent days.

Hmm, now that he’s not causing trouble, it’s his turn to cause some.

Immediately after the award ceremony at the commendation conference, the leaders attending the national security and safety meeting began speaking again.

Their remarks were earth-shattering—everyone’s heart skipped a beat.

After deliberation from above, the “Several Provisions on Strengthening Security and Safety Work” had been issued.

After the commendation conference, Li Xuewu didn’t rush back to the factory—he was intercepted by Xiang Yun and taken to a restaurant.

After hearing the news yesterday, Xiang Yun had already arranged it—he called Li Xuewu himself, saying he wanted to host a private victory banquet.

Of course, the banquet was just the two of them, and the place wasn’t conspicuous at all—plain and ordinary.

Whether or not Xiang Yun came here often, given his nature, it was surely safe and convenient.

They ordered four dishes and one pot of wine—no one else, otherwise Li Xuewu wouldn’t have come.

He’d hinted at inviting Li Xuewu to dinner last time; now he’d finally agreed.

Xiang Yun had arrived early; by the time Li Xuewu entered the private room, the food and wine were already set.

“Wow, looks delicious~”

He greeted Li Xuewu inside, but his eyes locked onto Li Xuewu’s chest.

Of course, not out of any improper interest—Xiang Yun was staring at the medals.

Li Xuewu chuckled at him, glanced at the food and wine, and nodded: “Alright, you’ve gone to too much trouble.”

“Don’t mention it~”

Xiang Yun sat beside him, poured him a full cup, and politely said: “If I hadn’t feared you’d refuse, our leader actually wanted to host.”

“No way—I couldn’t possibly accept that.”

Li Xuewu smiled, removed his cap, took off his coat, and bowed to him: “Then let me thank you right here!”

“Come on—if you keep saying that, we can’t even drink this wine.”

Xiang Yun raised his cup and toasted Li Xuewu: “Our leader said it’s all you deserve—fully earned.”

Li Xuewu said nothing more, raised his cup, and clinked it with his.

After downing their drinks, they quickly refilled each other’s cups and began discussing recent developments over the food.

It naturally started from today’s commendation, especially the speech after it.

The timing was masterful—all the nation’s outstanding security cadres were present; delivering it face-to-face carried undeniable weight.

Xiang Yun spoke while thinking, listening carefully to Li Xuewu’s opinions.

Li Xuewu wouldn’t openly voice his views—he deflected the topic with a few words and instead asked about the case.

Seeing how urgently Li Xuewu pressed, having called just days ago and now asking again, Xiang Yun asked softly: “Are they still stirring up trouble?”

“No, just curious.”

Li Xuewu smiled, sipped his wine, but kept his eyes fixed on him.

Xiang Yun shrugged: “If it’s not them causing trouble, then it’s you?”

“Heh~”

Li Xuewu gave a light laugh, said nothing, didn’t defend himself, pursed his lips, and picked up some food.

Xiang Yun studied him for a long while, then nodded: “I can’t see any brilliant strategy in you.”

Li Xuewu glanced at him in surprise, then raised his eyebrows meaningfully and set down his chopsticks.

Xiang Yun didn’t wait for him to ask: “Our leader reviewed everything that’s happened recently—he said you have the bearing of a great general.”

“What bearing? Soy sauce?”

Li Xuewu chuckled at him: “Black bean paste or yellow bean paste?”

“Heh~ I don’t believe it.”

Xiang Yun knew he was joking and didn’t take the bait—he continued: “He said you plan from within the tent and win victories thousands of miles away.”

After saying that, he studied Li Xuewu: “Do you have that ability?”

“Of course!”

Li Xuewu said casually: “You don’t know my old nickname—Little Zhuge of Dongcheng~”

“Fuck~”

Xiang Yun couldn’t help cursing: “That nickname’s so outdated, even a trash pit wouldn’t take it.”

“Little Zhuge” had been worn out—worn thinner and thinner, especially by that guy with the Bai surname.

Li Xuewu stopped teasing him and spread his hands: “I’m just a plain, honest man—who have I ever offended?”

“Ah~!”

Xiang Yun pointed at him, picked up his chopsticks, and emphasized: “You can lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself!”

“Still an honest man, huh?”

He glanced at Li Xuewu, pursed his lips, ate a bite, then raised his cup: “I’m the honest one.”

“Then let’s toast to the honest one.”

Li Xuewu didn’t hold it against him, raised his cup, and drank with him.

Xiang Yun was clearly holding back some deep thoughts—the atmosphere was too oppressive, leaving him unable to speak.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Li Xuewu, but that if he didn’t say those things, Li Xuewu already knew; speaking them would only harm both of them.

So, under his cue and initiative, the two downed three cups in succession.

Luckily, they were using small cups; otherwise, they’d be drunk—no one drinks like this.

“I know you’re resentful; if I were in your position, I’d be resentful too.”

Xiang Yun raised an eyebrow and said, “Damn, you really don’t deserve a beating—playing big guy over little guy, is that fun?”

After speaking, he downed a cup himself, set the cup down, and added, “But come on, his status isn’t ordinary—don’t go smashing eggs against a stone.”

Li Xuewu picked up the wine flask and refilled his cup; though he said nothing, his actions spoke volumes.

Xiang Yun leaned his elbow on the table and asked Li Xuewu, “Do you know how far the case has progressed?”

“Mm, go on.”

Li Xuewu nodded. “I’d really like to hear it—it’s like solving a riddle.”

“Who told you to sneak off on your own!”

Xiang Yun scolded him, then explained, “Do you know why Zhao Ziliang targeted Zhang Shuqin?”

Li Xuewu shook his head slightly, took a bite of food, and waited for him to continue.

Xiang Yun raised an eyebrow and tapped the table. “Zhang Shuqin is pregnant.”

“Hm?”

Li Xuewu frowned—this wasn’t mentioned in the autopsy report!

Xiang Yun knew what he was thinking and raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who altered the autopsy report?”

“Besides Lai Shanchuan, who else?”

Li Xuewu moved his cup aside and asked, “The child isn’t Zhao Ziliang’s? And it couldn’t be Yu Lanfang’s either.”

“Of course not!”

Xiang Yun widened his eyes, then narrowed them. “You’d never guess!”

Li Xuewu stared at him, thought for a moment, his eyes flickering open suddenly.

“Shit! You figured it out?!”

Xiang Yun was stunned—he hadn’t even spoken yet, and Li Xuewu had already guessed!

But Li Xuewu said nothing, just looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

When Xiang Yun named Lai Yide, Li Xuewu’s face showed no reaction—he’d clearly guessed it already.

“It’s hard to learn good, easy to go bad.”

Xiang Yun shook his head slightly. “Too clever by half, and it cost him his life—alas~”

“Who are you sighing for?”

Li Xuewu glanced at him. “Zhang Shuqin? Or Zhao Ziliang?”

“A pair of fools!”

Xiang Yun sneered. “Zhao Ziliang, to please Lai Yide, framed him and got him into Zhang Shuqin’s bed—and then what?!”

He wiped his mouth, contemptuous. “Lai Yide was young and didn’t know a damn thing—so Zhang Shuqin got pregnant.”

“Isn’t this woman stupid?!”

Xiang Yun said, puzzled. “She actually thought that now that she was pregnant, she’d give birth, go home, and live peacefully with Yu Lanfang.”

“...”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow—unexpected, yet understandable.

“She figured Yu Lanfang couldn’t have children anyway!”

Xiang Yun explained. “She thought: if she behaved well, stayed loyal, had a child, they’d be a perfect family of three!”

“Mm. Every tragedy begins with a self-deceived wishful thinking.”

Li Xuewu commented, then asked, “How did Lai Shanchuan find out?”

“Lai Yide confessed voluntarily—he never hides anything from his old man.”

Xiang Yun sneered. “Zhao Ziliang would never let a woman leave him carrying his secret and a ticking bomb in her belly.”

“So?”

Li Xuewu looked at him. “Premeditated murder or crime of passion?”

“Your conclusion’s right—it was crime of passion.”

Xiang Yun first affirmed Li Xuewu’s view, then added: “Zhao Ziliang never planned to kill her—he just used this as an excuse to tell her: do one last favor for me, then we part ways.”

“So it was a threat, right?”

Li Xuewu sipped his wine. “Zhao Ziliang wanted to use this case to threaten Zhang Shuqin, keeping leverage over her.”

“Mm, exactly.”

Xiang Yun nodded. “Zhao Ziliang originally planned to steal only a thousand yuan—he never expected his wife to find out.”

“And you know the result: a 45,000-yuan shortfall. Du Xiaoyan found out she was pregnant and had no intention of letting her live.”

“Alas—deserved fate.”

He sighed. “Zhao Ziliang thought: if the thousand-yuan case blew up, he could just make up the money—his goal was to control Zhang Shuqin.”

“But Du Xiaoyan found out—and told Lai Yide. They turned his plan against him, forcing Zhao Ziliang to go all the way.”

Xiang Yun shook his head slightly. “So Lai Yide striking back at Zhao Ziliang was only natural.”

“Where’s Zhao Ziliang’s body hidden?”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow. “Can Lai Yide even hide a body?”

“You won’t believe it.”

Xiang Yun shook his head, speechless. “South City’s mass grave—dug up old graves, buried new corpses.”

“Heh.”

Li Xuewu nodded, thinking that these were the only methods available.

Lai Yide didn’t have the convenience of a steel plant like him—if he’d done it, he’d bundle the body in a sack, drive it to the high-heat workshop, claim it was classified documents to be destroyed per regulations, and shove it straight into the furnace—no bone fragments left.

After a crime of passion, disposing the body is the hardest part. If you truly searched openly, finding Zhao Ziliang wouldn’t be hard.

In winter, the traces would be obvious.

But at this time, under these circumstances—do you think it’s easier to find a dead body or a living person?

From the start, the investigation focused on catching a live person.

Even if the whole city searched and found Zhao Ziliang’s body, how many clues would it really yield?

Li Xuewu didn’t ask why Lai Yide organized a group armed with guns and explosives—what he intended to do.

Because there was no need to ask: shortly after that case, Shanghai had its incident.

Lai Yide’s group failed to act—another group succeeded. That’s all.

If you want to know why Lai Yide did it, or whether he was manipulated, that’s Xiang Yun’s job to investigate.

But logically, look at what the man in Shanghai gained now—you’ll understand why Lai Yide went mad.

Think differently: did Lai Shanchuan participate in—or at least tacitly allow—his son’s actions?

Otherwise, how do you explain Lai Shanchuan’s permissive attitude after learning of his son’s deeds?

At this point, all case details were clear—Li Xuewu understood the full chain of cause and effect.

The only thing still unknown: who was behind it all.

Who it was didn’t need to be known yet—Li Xuewu was confident that slow, steady pressure would eventually trap the fish in the jar.

Let this bastard enjoy his arrogance a while longer—when the time came to crush him, he’d suffer more.

After finishing the case, Xiang Yun sat there, sighing heavily in silence for a long while.

Only when he saw Li Xuewu had drunk several cups did he nod and say, “I don’t understand your plans, but if you need anything, I’m at your disposal.”

“That’s enough.”

Li Xuewu raised his cup. “You’re not drunk, are you? Still up for more?”

“Heh~ Don’t try to push me!”

Xiang Yun, in the spirit of a loyal companion, downed another cup without hesitation.

They showed their empty cups and exchanged a smile.

“The commendation and reward business ends here—anything after this, I’ll do my best, brother.”

Xiang Yun sighed. “There’s never a shortage of people with sharp instincts.”

He shook his head, dropped the subject, and instead warned Li Xuewu: “I’ve got something to tell you—the credit union’s leadership wants to meet you.”

“Me?”

“The credit union?”

“The credit union’s leadership wants to meet me?”

Li Xuewu was genuinely surprised—he asked three times, then chuckled. “Why? To thank me or get revenge?”

“Hehehe~”

Xiang Yun laughed. “If anyone offended anyone, it was me—what’s it got to do with you?”

He continued: “It’s probably good news—otherwise, they wouldn’t have come through me, right?”

“Oh?”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow slightly—he understood the implication in Xiang Yun’s words.

It’s simple—the credit union already knows Li Xuewu’s identity and unit info; if there’s an issue, they can just call directly, then show up in person.

Now, by having Xiang Yun ask for a favor, keeping it through the Discipline Inspection, it’s meant to give the impression of safety and personal connection.

It seems Xiang Yun was right—this person reached out so openly to meet, showing real sincerity; perhaps something good is coming.

Otherwise, why go through all this trouble? If they had objections, they’d have been blocked at Xiang Yun’s end.

Others might scheme against him, but Xiang Yun wouldn’t risk offending him right now just to help someone else plot.

Li Xuewu nodded, graciously agreeing to meet next week.

Xiang Yun was genuinely concerned; now he laughed: “Are you really this busy? Or are you deliberately stalling?!”

“I really am busy~”

Li Xuewu explained seriously: “Since Monday, I haven’t stopped—we’re acquiring Beijing Motorcycle Factory No. 7 and No. 16, and I’m leading it. It’s exhausting.”

“Is that so~”

Xiang Yun nodded seriously now and said: “Then I’ll tell them to schedule it for next week.”

“Yeah, I’m not the type to dodge duties.”

Li Xuewu raised his wine cup and clinked it with his, then added: “I trust anyone you introduce.”

“No! They’re not real friends!”

Xiang Yun waved his hand: “I know their leader—seems they’re classmates. When you meet, don’t worry about any of that.”

He added softly: “I’d guess it’s probably related to your factory’s foreign trade orders.”

“Heh~”

Li Xuewu smiled helplessly: “Does everyone in the entire capital know our factory got foreign trade orders?!”

He added, half-irritated: “Doesn’t the whole capital have any other factories taking foreign orders?!”

Time always flies when you’re busy—whether hard work or accolades, it’s all in the past now.

Li Xuewu sat in his office, idly glancing at the calendar, only then realizing today was Thursday.

“These days really slip away!”

Watching Peng Xiao force tidy up the documents, he tightened his pen cap and sighed.

Peng Xiao force smiled: “You’re right—blink once, and a day’s gone.”

“If you say that, close your eyes forever, and your whole life’s gone!”

Li Xuewu teased him, then looked toward the opposite building: “Has the Second Auto Plant arrived?”

“Not yet.”

Peng Xiao force checked his watch: “If they don’t come by now, they’ll probably show up in the afternoon.”

No sooner had he spoken than the desk phone rang.

Seeing Li Xuewu sitting there sipping tea with no intention to answer, Peng Xiao force picked it up himself.

After three sentences, he hung up and grinned: “Talk of the devil—hear the phone ring! The Second Auto Plant’s here!”

“Hehe~”

Li Xuewu set down his teacup, rolled up his sleeve, glanced at his watch—it was already ten. They were clearly coming to grab lunch!

“They really know how to time things.”

He smiled faintly and signaled Peng Xiao force: “Tell the Office to arrange a meal at the guesthouse—ask which leaders are in.”

As he spoke, Li Xuewu stood up, preparing to change clothes and head downstairs.

But the phone rang again; the two exchanged surprised glances.

Li Xuewu stood right by the phone and, without waiting for Peng Xiao force, picked it up himself.

“Mm, this is Li Xuewu.”

“Sir, your wife has given birth.”