Chapter 950: You, Li Xuewu, Plotted to Steal Wealth and Commit Murder to Seize It
“Why are you here again?”
“Why can’t I come?”
Yu Daru shuffled into Li Xuewu’s office, slouching with no decorum.
He waved his hand, signaling Peng Xiao to hurry and brew tea, then casually sat across from Li Xuewu.
“This isn’t the White Tiger Hall—light one up.”
“That’s my cigarette you’re smoking.”
Li Xuewu tugged at his lip, glaring at the man’s audacity: “Are all the Security Department’s officers as idle as you?”
“What kind of talk is that?!”
Yu Daru waved the cigarette in his hand, squinting as he smiled: “I’m here on official business today!”
“So what if you’ve got maternal duties? What’s that got to do with me?”
Li Xuewu glanced at him, then returned to reading his documents.
He’s a stubborn patch of dogskin plaster—if you take him seriously, you won’t get anything done all morning.
They’re bored out of their minds; I’ve got a mountain of work.
“Hey! Don’t you dare say that!”
Yu Daru didn’t mind Li Xuewu’s cold shoulder, took a deep drag, and raised his eyebrows: “This case actually involves you.”
“Speak up. Spit it out.”
Li Xuewu didn’t look up: “Can’t you see I’m busy? There’s a meeting coming up—I don’t have time to chat.”
“I already said it’s official business!”
Yu Daru pulled a case file from his bag and slapped it onto Li Xuewu’s desk.
Li Xuewu glanced at it without interest, then froze slightly, lifting his head to ask: “Why are you involved?”
“Because you…”
Yu Daru was about to launch into it, saw Li Xuewu’s hostile gaze, and quickly corrected himself: “Because they’re all useless!”
“Dare you repeat that to the branch office?”
Li Xuewu narrowed his eyes and said: “If you dare, I’ll respect you as a real man.”
“I don’t dare! I can’t!”
Yu Daru slammed the table with righteous indignation: “I, Yu Daru, walk the world by the code of yi—I’d never speak ill of someone to their face!”
“Sssss~”
Li Xuewu sneered: “Your ‘yi’ is clearly just a name with the opposite meaning.”
He tapped the case file with his pen and asked: “What exactly are you supposed to investigate?”
“Investigate Zhao Ziliang.”
Yu Daru took another drag, raised his eyebrows: “Isn’t it said that Director Li has the eyes of a hawk and sees through all deception? I’ve come to learn from you.”
“If you’ve got nothing but nonsense to waste time on, turn right out the door.”
Li Xuewu pointed to the exit: “Director Sun should be free right now—you two can chat.”
“Hey, Director Li, I’m seriously discussing this case with you!”
Yu Daru’s expression turned serious; he placed his hand on the file and said: “I suspect something’s off here—there’s a hidden angle.”
“Oh? Then Director Yu must be a master strategist, seeing it at a glance.”
Li Xuewu threw back Yu Daru’s own mockery, unchanged.
Yu Daru knew he wouldn’t get the upper hand here—but he loved baiting Li Xuewu.
“Of course—otherwise why would our boss send me to assist on this case?”
He said bluntly: “You’ve been running around for ages—what have you actually found?”
“I think your boss sent you out not because you’re capable.”
Li Xuewu sneered: “What if he just can’t stand your mouth?”
“Ridiculous!”
Yu Daru insisted: “You don’t know how much our boss values me—he thinks of me first for every major case!”
“Heh~”
Li Xuewu glanced at him, twisting his pen: “So tell me—what exactly do you see?”
“Aaah~ Now you’re finally asking like someone seeking advice!”
Yu Daru was the type who’d puff up if you called him fat—he goaded Li Xuewu further: “You’ve labeled Zhao Ziliang as the fraud and murderer, but I don’t agree.”
“Oh? Really?”
Li Xuewu picked up the cigarette box, lit one for himself, leaned back, and asked: “What’s your theory?”
“The branch requested our system to track Zhao Ziliang’s movements to confirm whether he’s alive or dead.”
Yu Daru spoke seriously now, pulling out the file as he explained: “But based on the mailing addresses and information from Zhili, Zhao Ziliang couldn’t possibly have been there.”
“If he wanted to escape, he’d never call back!”
He stared at Li Xuewu with certainty: “And he certainly wouldn’t write those letters back—was he an idiot?!”
He pushed the file toward Li Xuewu: “We compared the handwriting—this isn’t Zhao Ziliang’s.”
“Also, we collected fingerprints.”
Yu Daru narrowed his eyes: “We checked everyone who could’ve touched the letters—the fingerprints on the paper don’t match any of them.”
“What does that mean?”
“What?”
Li Xuewu also narrowed his eyes: “It means someone else is behind the Zhang Shuqin case—and Zhao Ziliang is also in trouble?”
Thump!
“Exactly!”
Yu Daru slammed the table, jabbing a finger at Li Xuewu with a look of mutual understanding: “That’s exactly what I thought!”
Peng Xiao, bringing tea, couldn’t help twitching his lips—he’d never seen anyone dare slam the table on Li Xuewu.
Yu Daru ignored his expression, excitedly continuing: “The interesting part is Zhao Ziliang is guilty—the Discipline and Supervision Commission is already investigating him.”
“If this case surfaces at the same time and he vanishes, who’d suspect he’s not the killer?”
“You would.”
Li Xuewu flicked ash without concern, utterly unfazed by Yu Daru’s “revelation.”
“They hired you to find Zhao Ziliang—you went chasing mice like a cat. Got burned, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean ‘chasing mice’?!”
Yu Daru flushed with anger: “This is impartial justice! Clear insight! Deep analysis!”
“Hmm. And then?”
Li Xuewu smiled, waiting for him to deliver the punchline.
Yu Daru knew Li Xuewu was in the thick of this—he couldn’t hide it. He sighed, defeated: “I’m totally fed up—they’re all useless!”
He downed a gulp of tea, still indignant: “This is no different from treating human lives like grass!”
“Useless! Idiots! Bastards!”
“You’d better name them.”
Li Xuewu smirked: “Otherwise I won’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Stop bullshitting.”
Yu Daru waved his hand irritably: “Ever since I realized you were avoiding this, I figured out what he’s up to—this bastard.”
“He doesn’t fear this case being reopened later? I don’t believe he can escape punishment!”
“Not necessarily.”
Li Xuewu said calmly: “If no new leads appear in ten or twenty years, it won’t affect him much.”
“I won’t accept that!”
Yu Daru waved his hand: “If you’re scared, step aside—I’m not. Whoever he is, whatever he’s doing—I’ll dig until the truth comes out!”
“Mm. Good luck. I’m rooting for you.”
Li Xuewu signaled Peng Xiao: “Prepare half a pound of top-grade tea for Director Yu—wish him great success in sweeping away darkness.”
“Ah~ Ah~ Ah~”
Yu Daru, seeing Li Xuewu wouldn’t play along, waved off Peng Xiao and said: “Why aren’t you following the script?!”
He sounded wounded: “I’ve laid it all out—you’re supposed to say, ‘For justice, for the people, let’s work together!’”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that’s what you meant.”
Li Xuewu looked at him plainly, as if to say: “You said it, now I get it—I had no idea before.”
“But I’m busy lately, and I have no interest in this case. I think you can handle it alone.”
“No way!”
Yu Daru leaned forward urgently: “I mean—don’t you want to know who set up this whole scheme? Who planned and executed it?”
“Of course I do.”
Li Xuewu gestured for him to continue: “When you solve it, come tell me—I’ll be waiting.”
“….”
Yu Daru stared at Li Xuewu in silence, then finally nodded: “Fine. I give up. I came to borrow your wind.”
Li Xuewu shrugged, showing no interest in his theatrics—but didn’t refuse.
Lai ShanChuan was desperate to close the case, abandoning even suspicious key points, convinced Zhao Zilang would never reappear.
Yu Daru said with a gloomy expression: “I suspect Zhao Zilang has been murdered, and this case hides deeper problems lurking beneath.”
“You suspect?”
Li Xuewu sat up straight and asked: “Internal or external?”
“Possibly both.”
Yu Daru crushed his cigarette butt and explained: “The situation is so chaotic now, anything could happen—I reserve suspicion toward everyone.”
“Hmm, that makes sense.”
Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow and nodded in agreement, then asked: “What’s your basis?”
“First, let’s talk about Zhang Shuqin and Yu Lanfang.”
Yu Daru said: “Their combined monthly salary exceeds 117 yuan—seems substantial, and they have no children to support—but Zhang Shuqin supports her family too.”
“Their household isn’t frugal; though not as lavish as Zhao Zilang’s, it far surpasses ordinary families.”
“We’ve calculated: given their income and the conflicts in recent years, their wealth exceeds what’s reasonable.”
“But!”
Yu Daru widened his eyes slightly and looked intently at Li Xuewu: “Zhang Shuqin has never had a single violation record at her workplace—her character is extremely reliable.”
“You mean… the fraud case has issues?”
Li Xuewu thought for a moment and said: “From a criminal psychology perspective, if someone is short on money—or needs a large sum to satisfy demands—it implies prior criminal behavior.”
“Exactly! That’s it!”
Yu Daru sat up straight: “Everyone is short on money—even Zhang Shuqin’s household, no matter how comfortable, still lacks funds. But if she never embezzled at work, why would she directly target the credit cooperative?”
“What if someone ordered her to?”
Li Xuewu opened the case file: “Existing evidence proves she had a special relationship with Zhao Zilang.”
“But that doesn’t prove she’s guilty.”
Yu Daru said: “People eat grain and have seven emotions and six desires. Investigations must start from the root and examine details—not jump to conclusions.”
“I met Yu Lanfang. He said his wife always managed the household finances—Zhang Shuqin is a financial officer herself, and she’s very strict about it.”
“He knew nothing. He didn’t even know how the appliances and valuables in the house came about—he thought they were earned by the couple, blaming only his wife for spending too freely.”
“Zhao Zilang’s finances were definitely problematic—not just internal reimbursements, but also frequent bringing of goods back from outside, with signs of resale and substantial profit.”
“This point is most critical.”
Yu Daru opened his notebook and explained: “We calculated—even if he made profit every time, the total earnings still couldn’t cover their household expenses.”
“Besides, he had so many mistresses—all requiring money to maintain. This case has problems.”
“So you investigated Du Xiaoyan, right?”
Li Xuewu took his last drag, then ground the cigarette out in the ashtray.
Yu Daru tapped the case file, squinting: “I knew she was suspicious!”
He glanced at Li Xuewu with a hint of resentment: “If you already knew, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Say what?”
“When did I say she was suspicious?”
Li Xuewu glanced across at him, paused, then said: “Be precise—this is a case. We need facts to speak.”
“I need facts.”
Yu Daru squinted: “I checked Du Xiaoyan’s credit cooperative accounts. Guess what?”
“What? What else could it be?”
Li Xuewu smiled lightly: “Of course there’s nothing wrong, right?”
“Damn it!”
Yu Daru slammed the table: “Nothing wrong! Nothing wrong! Nothing wrong!”
He lowered his voice, almost hysterical: “At a time like this, the credit cooperative’s accountant has no issues?!”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“Hmm, possible.”
Li Xuewu pursed his lips: “I firmly believe there are far more upright cadres like me in the organization than corrupt elements.”
“...We’re talking about the case!”
Yu Daru stared at Li Xuewu in disbelief: “Even village squad leaders cheat their relatives with extra points. Do you really believe these accountants are that disciplined?”
“So what? How do you plan to investigate?”
Li Xuewu looked at him: “I was only brought in to handle criminal interrogation and analytical support. How can I help you?”
“No—not just you. It’s more than you.”
Yu Daru squinted and asked: “Guess who’s in charge of investigating the joint venture factory issues?”
“Who?”
Li Xuewu raised his brow slightly and probed: “Xiang Yun?”
“Hah! You got it!”
Yu Daru grinned: “The man behind this case would never imagine who he’s up against!”
He counted on his fingers: “City Discipline Inspector—the Iron Judge, young criminal investigation expert, and the strongest investigator from the Confidentiality Department…”
“Whoa~~~”
Li Xuewu sucked in a breath: “Isn’t there one out of place in that list?”
“...”
Yu Daru glared at Li Xuewu: “Do you think Xiang Yun doesn’t deserve that title?”
“I just think—”
Li Xuewu cut himself off, afraid that finishing the sentence might damage his fragile, negligible friendship with someone.
“Contact Xiang Yun.”
Yu Daru ignored Li Xuewu’s expression, picked up the phone, and handed it to him: “When the Three Swordsmen act, these demons and monsters will have nowhere to hide.”
Li Xuewu stared at him blankly, took the phone, and put it back.
Seeing Yu Daru’s puzzled expression, he said: “You need to tell me clearly how you plan to investigate.”
“Investigate Du Xiaoyan—just as you thought.”
Yu Daru explained: “I asked Du Xiaoyan about her lavish lifestyle. She said her husband gave her the money.”
“I refuse to believe it—this case is absolutely not a fraud-murder case!”
He looked intently at Li Xuewu: “Tell me honestly—why do you suspect Du Xiaoyan?”
“Investigating a case, right?”
Li Xuewu said casually: “There are only a few suspects. Zhao Zilang is missing, Yu Lanfang is detained—who else could we suspect but her?”
“I thought the same.”
Yu Daru nodded: “But I can’t investigate Du Xiaoyan directly—her superior protects her, and Lai ShanChuan from the branch seems to know her well.”
After saying this, he looked at Li Xuewu with sudden realization: “Last week you avoided me—was it because of this?”
“I guessed it by male intuition—even if Zhao Zilang and Zhang Shuqin were involved, even if they conspired in fraud, murder to silence them seems excessive.”
Li Xuewu smoothly shifted the topic without answering Yu Daru’s question.
He continued: “When I first suspected Zhang Shuqin’s motive for fraud, I thought: she’s beautiful, but not beautiful enough for Zhao Zilang to abandon his family for her.”
“I saw no record in the file of Zhao Zilang owing money or being investigated—he didn’t look financially strained.”
“His home had everything—comfortable life, loving marriage, even time to pick wildflowers. If I gave you fifty thousand, would you risk running away for a single wildflower?”
“Even if Du Xiaoyan spends money, even if her household burden is heavy, would she risk fraud and murder?”
“What’s the motive?”
Li Xuewu spread his hands: “I don’t believe he loved his wife that much—at least not based on facts.”
“If he truly loved her, wouldn’t he have left the fifty thousand for Du Xiaoyan? But two months passed—could that be?”
“Yes, it contradicts.”
Yu Daru nodded: “Something’s definitely wrong. You also think Zhao Zilang didn’t flee—he’s dead, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Li Xuewu pursed his lips: “I share your view—I reserve suspicion toward everyone.”
“My suspicion is based on real investigation!”
Yu Daru chuckled: “On what basis do you suspect?”
“Intuition.”
Li Xuewu tapped his head: “That’s criminal psychology—eliminate all possibilities. Even if it seems impossible, it’s still possible.”
“Intuition? That’s just wild guessing!”
Yu Daru had heard this word from Li Xuewu multiple times—he retorted: “If that’s your logic, I could also suspect there’s a mole behind this case—maybe even you, Li Xuewu, murdered him for money!”
“That’s not intuition—you’re insane!”
Li Xuewu rolled his eyes: “You’re the one who’s crazy!”
“What’s going on?”
Zhang Songying and Han Yating came to the cafeteria to report to Li Xuewu; seeing his grim expression, she asked with concern.
Li Xuewu smiled helplessly: “Been working hard lately—tired.”
“Really? Why so busy?”
Zhang Songying sat across from him and said with concern, “Can’t you put your work down for a bit?”
“Mm, already arranging it.”
Li Xuewu smiled slightly and asked the two, “What’s up?”
“It’s about the restaurant.”
Han Yating sat down, her belly swollen, glanced at Zhang Songying, then reported: “We’ve scheduled the opening for Wednesday. Do you have any further instructions?”
Zhang Songying could hear the hesitation in Han Yating’s voice—she feared disturbing Li Xuewu—and added hesitantly, “I was the one who wanted to come ask, I didn’t realize you’re so busy.”
“No problem. I ran into a bastard this morning, got me angry.”
Li Xuewu smiled and asked, “Has Director Li finalized the name yet?”
“Yes, we received notice from the Management Office last week.”
Zhang Songying reported: “Director Li approved ‘Red Star International Hotel’—it’s more grand than the old Six Nations Hotel, and better to use.”
“We’ve made all the preparations.”
She flipped through her notebook and said: “All textual labels have been changed to ‘Red Star International Hotel’—towels, bath towels, room signs—all are being rushed.”
“Will it be ready in time?”
Li Xuewu took a sip of soup and said, “The timeline is tight—it’s a test for you.”
“No problem. The factory’s tertiary sector is supporting us—we don’t need to schedule.”
Zhang Songying said, “During trial operations, we’ll face many issues. We’ll handle them gradually, learn as we go.”
“Mainly the guests.”
Han Yating spoke up: “Following Director Li’s instructions, we’ll initially host only foreign business tour groups, then gradually open other areas.”
“Mm, Director Li thinks ahead.”
Li Xuewu nodded and said, “Follow the leadership’s decision. Has the Foreign Affairs Department said when the tour group will arrive?”
“Yes, coordination notice has been issued.”
Zhang Songying reported: “Currently scheduled for Friday afternoon. Foreign Affairs and Security personnel will handle reception—right here at our hotel.”
“Of course Foreign Affairs is happy.”
Li Xuewu ate as he spoke: “The hotel’s right outside their gate—so convenient.”
“Mm, the officials coming to coordinate said the same.”
Zhang Songying smiled and exchanged a glance with Han Yating, then explained: “It seems they need to learn first before starting commercial activities.”
“Normal. Follow organizational arrangements.”
Li Xuewu nodded at them and warned: “Train your staff well—regularly. Especially on confidentiality—no mistakes allowed.”
“Understood.”
Both answered in unison. Zhang Songying handed Li Xuewu her notebook and reported on the hotel’s personnel management issues.
Han Yating was appointed General Manager, but Zhang Songying was in charge of the hotel’s preparations.
They got along well—each understood their own abilities and duties, and neither cared about power struggles.
Zhang Songying was the professional; Han Yating was the manager. They respected and recognized each other.
Han Yating especially remembered Zhang Songying’s care during her hospitalization after her injury—on both professional and personal levels, there was no issue.
After Zhang Songying finished reporting on personnel, materials, and services, Han Yating reported on financial and logistics management issues.
Especially Li Xuewu’s management standards and service protocols—these were all new knowledge to them.
Zhang Songying had visited Yangcheng for study and had some exposure to new things; Han Yating could only learn through documents.
Li Xuewu listened carefully. During his meal, cadres kept coming to chat, but seeing him busy, they all greeted him and went to other rooms.
Combining their reports, the situation was clear: Li Huai didn’t give much direction, but the Management Office wanted to intervene.
Precisely because of this, they came to report to Li Xuewu.
Officially it was a work report, and yes, they discussed work—but they were really talking about problems.
The source was the newly appointed Deputy Director Shi. According to the management hierarchy, the Management Office held high authority over reception duties.
Previously, Xu Si’s relationship with Li Xuewu was unquestioned—the Factory Office had never meddled in the guesthouse’s affairs.
But now things have changed: the small canteen split off from the guesthouse is run by Liu Lan, and this woman somehow got close to Deputy Director Shi.
Naturally, Deputy Director Shi’s influence over the small canteen surged—now you often saw Liu Lan reporting to him at lunchtime.
Qin Huaiju had cursed under her breath several times, but Li Xuewu didn’t care—he never intended to keep all this under his control.
When the small canteen was first established, it was just to serve cadres at the deputy section level and above—what Deliyi could there be?
Qin Huaiju wasn’t bothered by the petty profits of the canteen—she was upset because that canteen director position had originally been given to her by Li Xuewu.
What else is this but ingratitude?
Zhang Songying shared Qin Huaiju’s temperament—she’d long disliked Liu Lan. Just downstairs, the two had exchanged sharp words.
Now, while reporting to Li Xuewu, she couldn’t help but voice her resentment.
“She’s so hungry she’ll grab anything she can find—anyone she’ll follow.”
“That one’s bold enough to eat anything—even filth—she’s got no shame.”
“Enough. Say less.”
Han Yating, young and shy, gently warned Zhang Songying, then asked Li Xuewu: “Regarding personnel arrangements—what do you think?”
“You’re the General Manager—you’re asking me?”
Li Xuewu put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and smiled: “The hotel isn’t like the guesthouse. Who told you the hotel falls under guesthouse management?”
“This…”
Han Yating and Zhang Songying exchanged a glance—both surprised—and turned to Li Xuewu together: “Then who manages it?”
“Logistics.”
Li Xuewu cleared his dishes and said: “All service units fall under the Logistics Group.”
This sounded perfectly reasonable—as if the guesthouse had never been under Logistics before. But could Logistics really manage it?
What did Li Xuewu really mean?
Han Yating and Zhang Songying both understood: if the Management Office tries to manage, they’ll say they answer to Logistics; if Logistics tries to manage, they’ll say they answer to the Management Office.
If both try to manage, then let them clash—see who dares come straight to Li Xuewu.
“That’s it. Pay more attention to the opening ceremony.”
Li Xuewu smiled confidently, tossed his napkin aside, stood, and put on his coat.
“I’ve been busy lately. I’ll have Peng Xiaoli bring me the schedule for Wednesday.”
“Oh, by the way.”
As he reached the door, Li Xuewu suddenly stopped, turned back, pointed at the two, and asked with a smile: “Do you know how to fish?”
“???”
Han Yating and Zhang Songying looked at each other blankly, then puzzledly at Li Xuewu, both shaking their heads.
Li Xuewu didn’t care. He nodded and said: “Do you understand the principle: to take something, you must first allow it?”
Without waiting to see if they understood, he turned and left the room, heading downstairs.
The two upstairs remained standing, still half-confused—especially Zhang Songying, still puzzling over the fishing.
“Fishing? What fishing?”
She turned to Han Yating: “Is he asking us to go fish for him? But he doesn’t even like fish~”
Xu Ning took the train on Monday. His family had arranged several matches. In his words, this year’s harvest was nutrition-starved.
When Li Xuewu saw him off, he teased him to bring back a frontier girl to live with.
Xu Ning happily admitted that was exactly his goal—he said the girls in the ethnic dance troupes were all beautiful, especially those from the frontier.
As for this, the aesthetic taste of Central Plains men has always been consistent—hence the reason frontier regions are full of song and dance.
When they parted, both felt a touch of reluctance. Though their words were light, they knew it was just banter—just mutual reassurance.
Xu Ning left on a trade train, taking with him Li Xuewu’s hopes—just as the trade train would carry back his harvest.
Li Xuewu didn’t explain the details of the Journey to the West team to Xu Ning—the situation there would become clear once he arrived.
Partings always carry regret and gloom. If he met another bastard above him, his mood wouldn’t be bright.
Yu Daru spent over an hour grinding in his office, all for that case.
He claimed it was to uphold justice, but Li Xuewu knew from the moment he walked in—this bastard had ulterior motives.
You think Investigation Department people are sneaky—do you think Security Department people are fools?
They’re all the same: no gain, no effort. Either internal power struggles or external Liyi conflicts—always these kinds of situations.
Yu Daru’s level of cunning was too low to come here and pry at the walls—if he really wanted to grab an advantage, Li Xuewu would’ve already bent over.
This case isn’t a juicy, profitable pit. Whoever he targets, Li Xuewu won’t stab Zheng Fuhua in the back.
He deliberately avoided the case to spare the other side trouble—didn’t expect a third party to suddenly appear.
Yu Daru’s group must have gotten something valuable—or they’re eyeing the Division’s position. Maybe their boss wants to shift his seat.
Don’t think Security Department people don’t want Division posts. Let Yu Daru’s boss take Zheng Fuhua’s position—he’d be delighted.
Not everyone likes working in Security. People who join don’t start out wanting to be little pebbles.
Li Xuewu didn’t call Xiang Yun to recommend Yu Daru—but after Yu Daru left, he informed Xiang Yun.
Xiang Yun knew Li Xuewu participated in the case as a criminal investigation expert, but since he handled discipline inspection, their paths rarely crossed, so he never thought to reach out.
This time, Yu Daru acted as a bridge, reconnecting the two.
Regarding Li Xuewu’s points about the case’s suspicious elements and his warning about Yu Daru and his connections, Xiang Yun had no objections.
He was the one who investigated cadres—he wasn’t afraid of their infighting. Even if they used underhanded tactics, it didn’t matter—as long as he could catch a tail.
Having collaborated with Li Xuewu several times in a row, Xiang Yunian had reaped easy benefits and advanced rapidly within the system, becoming a representative of young cadres.
This chance encounter with Li Xuewu had already turned to discussions about how to divide the final gains.
If it weren’t for Yu Daru, the troublemaker, Li Xuewu truly wouldn’t have wanted to get involved in this case; now, with him stirring things up, Li Xuewu had no choice but to step in.
So Li Xuewu advised Xiang Yunian to plan carefully and avoid any contact with Yu Daru—that dog had a sharp nose and knew exactly how to cooperate.
As for the final division of gains, Li Xuewu didn’t clarify much; in his estimation, by the time the investigation reached its end, it would likely be covered up with another layer of gauze—you’d see only Mohu , and the outcome would be uncertain.
Of course, those who needed to be dealt with must be dealt with, but the concern over public impact would instantly diminish the achievements of the investigators.
Li Xuewu wasn’t part of this system; he couldn’t claim any real benefit, and money meant nothing to him—his only concern was preserving his connections within the branch.
With Zheng Fuhua in the branch, Ji Yuxiu’s work would be easier, and so would his own.
After receiving Li Xuewu’s information and judgment, Xiang Yunian immediately gathered personnel and went straight to the credit union via the line of Du Xiaoyan and Zhang Shuqin.
Li Xuewu wouldn’t show his face—not even at the branch.
Since he’d already spoken to Lai Shanchuan, he wouldn’t play the villain and cause others trouble.
The villain’s role naturally fell to Yu Daru and Xiang Yunian—one loved doing it, the other didn’t care.
Li Xuewu couldn’t do it; he still had his dignity to maintain, and needed to preserve his image of brilliance and integrity.
In the afternoon, while discussing work with Zhou Yao, the phone on his desk rang.
He assumed it was work-related, but it turned out to be Tong Huimei calling.
She normally never dared to call Li Xuewu during work hours, let alone initiate contact with him.
This time, she had no choice—she and Jin Jiaojiao had made this call from the hospital.
“Mr. Ma has passed away—just now.”
The news came suddenly; Li Xuewu was stunned for a moment before realizing who she meant by “Mr. Ma.”
Yesterday afternoon, after waiting in vain for Mei Xiaohong’s update, he’d assumed the matter was dead—but now there were unexpected twists.
Yesterday afternoon, Mai Xiaotian and his wife went with Mei Xiaohong to visit Mr. Ma, but they weren’t allowed in.
Because Mr. Ma was hospitalized, the doctors had refused visitors that day.
Today, the hospital sent word, instructing Mai Xiaotian and his wife to bring Tong Huimei and Jin Jiaojiao to the hospital.
Thus, Tong Huimei and Jin Jiaojiao, somewhat bewildered yet excited, finally met this grandmaster of opera.
The old man still looked reasonably spirited, but his family’s expressions were grim.
Mai Xiaotian and his wife explained to him the reason for their visit to Li Chu, and described Yu Lanfang’s situation.
Mr. Ma had lived a lifetime of human dealings—he understood the hidden currents perfectly.
Seeing the two young women standing beside Mai Xiaotian and his wife, he didn’t rebuke his adopted daughter for acting on her own; instead, he asked each to sing a short passage.
This Mr. Ma was a perceptive man—he first recounted his origins and past, then critiqued their singing and technique, before moving on.
He had no intention of taking them as disciples; the main reason was his failing health, and because he was a gong laosheng, taking them as students would offer no benefit to their backgrounds.
But like Mei Xiaohong, he recognized them as adopted daughters right there in the hospital, before several old friends.
Whether moved by the awareness of his dwindling days, having shed his former inhibitions, or simply moved by his current circumstances, he accepted the tea offered by the anxious Tong Huimei and Jin Jiaojiao with calmness.
No one in the room objected, even though it was clear Tong Huimei and Jin Jiaojiao had come with some behind-the-scenes influence.
Taking two adopted daughters, saving one adopted son, and settling his affairs after death—this deal was more than worth it.
After accepting their tea, Mr. Ma had reason to speak—he pointed them to an old friend and suggested they ask him to become their master.
That Mr. Xun had watched their short performances and understood the twists this Yu Lanfang case had triggered.
Seeing the two young women as gentle, without any trace of vulgarity or deceit, he silently accepted Mr. Ma’s suggestion.
Mai Xiaotian knew this was a tremendous opportunity—he immediately told them to kneel and offer tea to the master.
Mr. Xun himself was caught in turbulent currents; he clearly understood the power and influence behind these two girls, and the meaning behind his old friend’s choice of disciples.
His old friend’s adopted daughters—this honored him; and with Mai Xiaotian as guarantor—he accepted their tea.
Today in the hospital room, they reached a verbal agreement; the formal apprenticeship ceremony would be arranged at a more convenient time.
Mai Xiaotian, grateful for Mr. Ma’s benevolence, volunteered to guarantee that he would mediate—so long as Yu Lanfang wasn’t implicated, he would ensure Mr. Ma’s safety.
Tong Huimei and Jin Jiaojiao had come to the hospital with Mai Xiaotian and his wife to visit Mr. Ma, and had met many senior masters—this had filled them with joy.
But bewilderedly, under Mai Xiaotian and his wife’s direction, they had just accepted an adoptive father and a master from among the Four Great Dan—happiness had come too suddenly, leaving them flustered.
Recalling the explanations from Mai Xiaotian and Mei Xiaohong, and thinking of Li Xuewu’s status, they finally understood the key to why they had been allowed to take a master.
Thus, they felt both guilt and apology, and feared their limited talent might bring shame upon their new master’s lineage.
They wanted to refuse this unexpected blessing, yet feared it was all Li Xuewu’s arrangement—and to act on their own might offend his goodwill.
Just as they were deeply torn, the once-vibrant Mr. Ma suddenly passed away, delivering a heavy blow to them.
They had already wept once in the hospital room; after the family briefly handled the funeral arrangements, they went to Mr. Xun to apologize.
Mr. Xun had seen and endured much—he told them to come to his home later for the formal apprenticeship and instruction.
Tong Huimei called to ask Li Xuewu’s opinion.
Li Xuewu thought for a moment and told her to consult with Jin Jiaojiao and Mai Xiaotian—first help with the funeral arrangements as adopted daughters, and deal with everything else afterward.
After hanging up, he called Shen Guodong and instructed him to prepare mourning gifts and investigate Mr. Xun’s identity.
He didn’t trust opera performers.
End of Chapter
