Chapter 952: Someone Is Behind Us

“What the hell is this?!”

“Who told you to do this?!”

Li Huaide stared with wide eyes at the dancers standing in the small dance hall.

Especially the waitressing-style dresses they wore, their eyebrows carefully drawn and hair neatly styled, looking strikingly beautiful.

The leaders from the other units behind him wore smiles in their eyes, yet their faces still maintained the demeanor of upright gentlemen.

They had just come from lunch at the restaurant, looking for a quiet place to chat.

The Red Star International Hotel’s service standards were high, its facilities modern, leaving a deep impression on these leaders from other units.

Listening to their flattery, Li Huaide had been in good spirits, and the conversation had been elevated in tone.

But when the server led them here and he saw these dancers showing arms and legs, it felt like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, making his face flush red instantly.

Fortunately, everyone here today were friends—if someone had asked at this moment whether they’d taken a wrong turn and walked into a brothel, he’d have lost all face.

Seeing him furious, the server was already terrified, completely flustered, and now stammered out: “It was Deputy Director Shi who arranged it—he said the leaders like…”

“Like what?!”

Li Huaide cut off the server’s explanation, glaring with red eyes and rebuking: “How many times have I stressed it? Cherish our current achievements! Channel comrades’ enthusiasm for the arts into the workshop, onto the performance stage!”

“What is he trying to do? Fooling around!”

He turned around to look for Shi Ruoweng but couldn’t find him; he muttered a few words, waved his hand at the dancers, and said: “Get out quickly.”

Zhou Miaomiao had already been frightened; now that the leader had spoken, she quickly herded the team members away.

At that moment, Zhang Songying appeared at the door, repeatedly apologizing: “I’m so sorry, Leader—we never expected you’d come here.”

She spoke calmly and explained: “We were just trying on summer waitressing uniforms; we got flustered and caused trouble for you and the other leaders—truly sorry.”

This excuse wasn’t convincing, especially since Li Huaide had already identified their identities.

But everyone present knew Old Li cared most about face; they all pretended not to know and nodded in agreement with Zhang Songying’s explanation.

Then, as servers filed in to pour tea, they resumed laughing and chatting, acting as if nothing had happened.

Seeing the atmosphere in the room ease, Li Huaide nodded to Zhang Songying and instructed: “Go find Shi Ruoweng and tell him to wait for me at the entrance.”

“Yes, Leader.”

Zhang Songying first responded, then quietly scolded the guiding server: “How are you serving the leaders? Do you think you can mention Deputy Director Shi like that?”

The server was clever; seeing Vice General Manager Zhang scolding her, tears instantly streamed down her face.

Li Huaide watched from the side, his brow slightly furrowed, his dissatisfaction with Shi Ruoweng growing stronger.

“Do your work well, it’s fine.”

He first comforted the server, then instructed Zhang Songying: “For matters at the International Hotel, always consult Deputy Director Li of the Office.”

He glanced again at Zhou Miaomiao, standing outside the door looking miserable, and said: “Shi Ruoweng doesn’t handle operational work—why are you listening to him?”

“I’m sorry, Leader.”

Zhang Songying said with a face full of apology: “Deputy Director Li has been busy lately, so Deputy Director Shi has been handling reception duties…”

“No matter how busy, he still has time to manage you.”

Li Huaide emphasized with a frown, then added: “From now on, for all external reception work, don’t pay attention to anyone else—only consult Deputy Director Li. Understood?”

“Yes, Director Li, understood.”

Zhang Songying replied timidly, then quietly reported: “Deputy Director Shi assigned the dance troupe here and then left—please entertain the guests first; I’ll go calm them down and send them back. Standing outside isn’t appropriate.”

“Hmm.”

Li Huaide nodded, looked at Zhang Songying, and said: “I trust your judgment. Speak gently to them—don’t let them get upset. Go.”

“Understood. You’re busy.”

Zhang Songying arranged for servers to continue bringing fruit to the tea table, bowed to Li Huaide, and left.

As the door closed, cutting off Zhou Miaomiao’s view, her tears could no longer be held back.

Zhang Songying glanced at her, signaled to the server at the door, and reached out to wipe her tears.

Taking the tissue offered by the server, she gently comforted: “It’s not your fault—the leader just said he wasn’t scolding you. Enough, stop crying.”

These beautiful girls from the propaganda troupe’s dance team were delicate, spoiled by cadres and indulged by higher leaders—they’d never endured such humiliation.

Being made to wear summer waitressing uniforms to dance here was already humiliating enough; now they’d been scolded too.

Just by looking at the leaders’ eyes, you could tell they didn’t think of them as decent people—no doubt they were imagining all sorts of things about them.

Actually, the uniforms weren’t that revealing—waitresses at the guesthouse wore the same in summer.

But it’s winter now; wearing this outfit made them seem tawdry, as if deliberately tempting men to sin.

Think about it: a sailor uniform in summer at school is a student; in winter at a bar, what is it?

What kind of occasion is this? What time is it? Who’s here? Do you think Li Huaide wouldn’t fly into a rage?

Especially that server’s line—“the leaders like it”—Li Huaide nearly cursed.

When had he ever liked this? He’d never said such a thing in this context—this was slander!

If the leaders of two units got together for drinks and danced at night, that’d be fine, right?

But in broad daylight, with so many unit leaders present, suddenly doing this—Red Star International Hotel has turned into a damn club.

Of course Zhou Miaomiao and the others felt wronged—they didn’t want to degrade themselves either; they were just following Deputy Director Shi’s false orders, claiming Director Li demanded this on-site.

She was now captain of the dance team and deputy head of the propaganda troupe—she had to take responsibility for this.

Li Huaide felt humiliated; facing her teammates’ suspicious glances, she felt even more ashamed—wasn’t this treating her like a madam?

Zhang Songying softly comforted them, opened the door to the nearby billiards room, and ushered them inside to rest.

“Clack.”

As the dance team girls entered the billiards room, they found someone already playing.

Li Xuewu had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his shirt unbuttoned at the top two buttons, bent over, squinting, aiming at the white ball—just as he was about to strike, Zhang Songying’s voice came from the doorway.

“Oh my, Deputy Director Li, I really have to admire you!”

Zhang Songying used the tissue to dry Zhou Miaomiao’s tears, then guided them to sit on the couches in the lounge area.

“Look how chaotic things are outside—how can you still have the heart to play billiards here?”

“Is that so?”

Li Xuewu glanced at her, then swung his cue—white ball struck black ball and sank cleanly into the pocket.

“Amazing~ Amazing~”

Tachibana Eriko clapped from across the table, smiling and praising: “Mr. Li, your skill is incredible!”

“Mm~”

“Your Chinese is also excellent.”

Li Xuewu smiled in return, handed his cue to Peng Xiaoli beside him, took the cigarette from his lips, and looked at the now-silent dance team girls: “What happened?”

“Ah~ Don’t even mention it~”

Zhang Songying looked like she didn’t want to discuss this mess, glanced at Zhou Miaomiao and the others, and whispered to him: “They’re taking the blame and enduring suffering.”

“Really?”

Li Xuewu’s brow furrowed slightly, and he said discontentedly: “Who arranged this mess?”

He pointed at Zhou Miaomiao and the others: “Get them proper clothes immediately—it’s freezing outside, this is disgraceful.”

Zhou Miaomiao had already been moved by Zhang Songying’s kind words; now hearing Li Xuewu’s spontaneous defense, her tears flowed again.

As she cried, the other girls in the dance team began crying too—the scene spiraled out of control.

Today was the opening of Red Star International Hotel; as a partner of the steel mill and the foreign affairs department’s designated guest, Tachibana Eriko became one of the hotel’s first guests.

The three Japanese businessmen—Nishida Kenichi, Ninomiya Kazuya, and Nakamura Shuji—had returned home, leaving only Tachibana Eriko as the head of their company’s Beijing liaison office.

Due to changing circumstances, the office now had only Eriko, who alone handled liaison, communication, supervision, and local affairs.

Although the Red Star International Hotel’s opening had no ceremony, many foreigners had heard the news and came to inquire about check-in.

Seeing the guards stationed at the front courtyard and the foreign affairs department staff assigned here, you’d know its security was no worse than the foreign affairs dormitory.

Compared to living conditions and service quality, and since it wasn’t their own money—public funds covered it, so of course they chose the hotel.

Tachibana Eriko was good at networking; during lunch she met Li Xuewu and invited him here to play billiards.

Whether her invitation was sincere, no one knew—but Li Xuewu came seriously, bringing Peng Xiaoli as a chaperone, afraid others might misunderstand.

Although there was no ceremony, a banquet was mandatory—so many brother units came to offer congratulations; how could they not eat and drink well?

The factory’s best chefs were divided into four posts: Da Shigong was managed by He Yuzhu, the guesthouse by Yang Shuqian.

Originally, the small canteen had chefs alternating shifts; now, Master Shang and Master Qian, along with Wei Wei, had come to the International Hotel, so they had to make do with each other.

Last night, Director Li had already ordered: chefs could be hired in greater numbers, to fully meet reception and hotel needs, with distinctive skills and real expertise.

His life had only two pursuits: eat well and enjoy life. He thought becoming Director of the Factory Management Committee would let him live comfortably—but now he was even more exhausted than before.

So on these two pursuits, he was uncompromising—no negotiation.

Food must be good, and he must also enjoy himself with the dance team girls—whatever Director Li valued, that was important.

When the girls cried, someone had to step forward and take responsibility.

Zhang Songying’s role was to make these girls know who had brought them this humiliation, so they’d know whom to hate.

Li Xuewu’s only role was to make them feel even more wronged, to deepen the contrast in their hearts—he had no ill intentions.

Adjusting his shirt, pulling on the sweater he’d dropped on the couch, he complained as he dressed: “What’s going on? If the foreign guests see this, they’ll think our hotel is doing something shameful.”

“Please don’t say any more.”

Zhang Songying glanced at Tachibana Eriko, who was sipping tea, and heard the girls crying louder—she hurriedly urged Li Xuewu: “Director Li needs your help—go quickly.”

“I’m truly sorry.”

Li Xuewu took the administrative jacket she offered and put it on, then said to Tachibana Eriko: “I’ve received all your suggestions—I’ll study them carefully when I return.”

"Sorry to trouble you."

Tao Gu Huiriang stood up and bowed slightly in thanks, appearing very polite; her Chinese was indeed quite good.

A server entered from the door, carrying many clothes—clearly belonging to the dancers.

Li Xuewu had no reason to stay longer here; he gestured to Tao Gu Huiriang to introduce her to Zhang Songying and asked her to assist with reception.

He casually offered a few comments, adding fuel to the fire for the crying girls, making them cry even louder, then satisfied, walked toward the door.

Who could be more ruthless than Li Xuewu? He had gone all the way to the extreme.

Outside the door, he saw Shi Ruoweng hurrying down the stairs; he quietly instructed Peng Xiaoli to go toward the front desk and call the hotel’s on-duty doctor over.

Peng Xiaoli had only been with Li Xuewu for a few days, yet he had already fully grasped his leader’s intentions and temperament.

As for fun and play, the leader was still young; though serious and diligent at work, he was quite lively in private.

They were all young; Peng Xiaoli dared to play along. After receiving Li Xuewu’s instruction, he made a loud, frantic show, seeming even more panicked than Shi Ruoweng coming down the stairs, running while shouting to the front desk to call a doctor, claiming the dancers were in trouble.

The on-duty clerk at the front desk didn’t know a thing; seeing Peng Xiaoli’s panic, they panicked even more and rushed toward the billiard room with a first-aid kit.

Shi Ruoweng had already gotten word that the leader was dissatisfied with his arrangements.

Now seeing the chaos downstairs, he truly believed some dancer had taken extreme action from the shock.

His heart skipped a beat, his legs went weak, and he tumbled straight down the stairs.

Fortunately, he was nearly at the bottom—only a few steps left—but he still banged his knee and face, wincing in pain.

Seeing his condition, the clerk with the first-aid kit moved to help him, but he waved her off.

“Don’t mind me—go check on them! Don’t let anything happen!”

Deputy Director Shi—a true iron-blooded man!

His face was scraped raw, his knees clutched tightly as his face twitched from pain, yet he still cared only for the girls.

Who was Li Xuewu? The steel mill’s famous helper, the benevolent Meng Chang, the selfless rain in time—could anyone ignore him when he was injured?

He waved for several guards to come over, had them carry him out, and rushed him into a car for the hospital.

Shi Ruoweng didn’t want to leave; just moments ago, Director Li had told him to wait by the door for reprimand—how could he leave now?

Especially since he’d just fallen and hurt himself—perfect for playing the victim in front of the leader.

Seeing Li Xuewu wave for help, he forced himself to stand, but his knee injury was too severe—he couldn’t get up at all.

Li Xuewu kindly comforted him, telling him to rest well and promising to keep the mishap and errors confidential from the leadership.

If it weren’t for the pain in his face and legs, Shi Ruoweng would have stood up and cursed.

I finally managed to hurt myself once—finally got a reason to appease the leader—and you want to keep it secret?!

I really appreciate your kindness!

If Li Xuewu hadn’t been standing far away, he’d have suspected Li Xuewu pushed him down the stairs.

Li Xuewu paid no attention to his struggles or resentment; he instructed the guards to take Deputy Director Shi to the nearest hospital immediately and not delay treatment.

Before they even left, he also told the on-site staff that Deputy Director Shi’s humiliation today must not be leaked—anyone who asked, say they didn’t know.

The bastard gave his orders and walked out, ignoring Shi Ruoweng’s muffled protests.

When things calmed down, the leaders in the small dance hall had finished their tea and conversation and were heading out.

When Li Huai came out, he glanced at the entrance—Shi Ruoweng was still nowhere to be seen; his anger flared even higher.

After seeing off the guests, he immediately sent Li Haiyang to find Shi Ruoweng. Li Haiyang asked many people, but all the servers stared blankly and answered, “Don’t know.”

They had all been instructed to keep Deputy Director Shi’s secret.

On Friday, after finishing the personnel meeting, Li Xuewu hadn’t even entered his office when he heard the phone inside ringing urgently.

Peng Xiaoli rushed in first to answer it; when he came back, he whispered: “City Discipline Inspection.”

Li Xuewu’s eyebrows lifted slightly; he walked to his desk and picked up the phone.

Xiang Yun’s voice was unmistakable; he said little on the line, merely instructing Li Xuewu to come for the meeting.

“Leader, we still have a safety meeting this afternoon—the foreign businessmen from the business tour are arriving today; you need to meet with Director Li.”

Peng Xiaoli had heard the call; now he had to remind Li Xuewu of his schedule.

“Mm, I know.”

Li Xuewu nodded, returned to his desk, thought for a moment, and gave instructions: “Have Deputy Group Leader Yu preside over the safety meeting—we’re going to the Discipline Inspection.”

“Yes.”

Peng Xiaoli’s reply was crisp—he knew his leader had poured great effort into this case and must have made arrangements.

Especially since the Confidentiality Department’s Yu Ke had visited twice to discuss the case, and it was tied to Director Xiang of the Discipline Inspection—clearly a major case.

In two years at the factory office, he’d never seen anything big; since following Li Xuewu, every outing expanded his horizons.

The leader was young, decisive, well-connected, knew everyone, held a high rank—naturally, he saw more.

While Peng Xiaoli went out to arrange the safety meeting, Li Xuewu picked up the phone and called Li Huai.

Mainly to report he was going out to investigate and to inform him about the evening reception for the foreign guests.

Li Huai didn’t care about that damn fraud case—he cared deeply about this visit from the business tour.

He warned Li Xuewu on the phone not to let the tail wag the dog and neglect his real duties.

In his eyes, Li Xuewu could go out and do odd jobs to build reputation, but he absolutely couldn’t let his family’s farmland lie fallow.

Li Xuewu repeatedly assured him and added he’d report the details that evening—only then did Li Huai relent.

Just after lunch, he didn’t rest; he and Peng Xiaoli got in the car and headed straight for the City Discipline Inspection.

Xiang Yun had scheduled the meeting at the City Discipline Inspection—this clearly indicated the case’s nature had changed.

When Li Xuewu arrived, he indeed saw Yu Daru and Zheng Fuhua sitting together.

Good heavens—Discipline Inspection, Confidentiality, and Work Safety all present, chaired by Xiang Yun—this case might spiral anywhere.

“Everyone’s here. Let’s begin.”

Xiang Yun glanced at Li Xuewu, nodded to Zheng Fuhua, then began outlining the case.

Li Xuewu listened while observing the attendees.

Yu Daru brought three investigators; the Discipline Inspection had five officials; the branch had only the head of the Criminal Unit.

Oddly, Lai Shanchuan was absent, and the head of the Public Security Unit was also missing.

“We conducted background checks on Zhao Ziliang; combined with Work Safety’s findings, economic gaps remain.”

Xiang Yun reported: “Confidentiality Department provided a key lead: Du Xiaoyan’s spending and her family’s financial status far exceeded what she and Zhao Ziliang could afford.”

“We initiated a Discipline Inspection probe into the credit cooperative regarding Du Xiaoyan’s situation; based on confirmed facts, we detained and interrogated Deputy Director Han Luyao and, in coordination with Confidentiality, detained Du Xiaoyan...”

Li Xuewu listened while taking notes, sketching a relationship map of key figures and critical suspect issues.

Han Luyao’s detention must mean he had his own problems tied to this case.

Du Xiaoyan’s situation was strange—she was detained by Confidentiality, not the branch—something must be wrong on the branch’s side.

Yu Daru’s presence and Zheng Fuhua’s seat at the table meant the three parties had communicated.

The case’s impact was contained by all three parties, not escalated further, now handled collaboratively—beneficial for all.

Especially for Zheng Fuhua—he was the lead supervisor; controlling the situation despite so many problems was a victory.

“We targeted Han Luyao as the breakthrough point to investigate Du Xiaoyan’s issues.”

Xiang Yun reported: “During interrogation, we confirmed Han Luyao’s misconduct, but Du Xiaoyan’s were worse.”

“According to Han Luyao, since Du Xiaoyan became the financial accountant, the books had always been in deficit—he didn’t know how much.”

“How could he not know?”

Yu Daru interrupted, frowning: “He’s deputy director of the credit cooperative—doesn’t he know his own unit’s deficits?”

“We thought the same.”

Xiang Yun ignored the interruption: “Given Han Luyao’s active efforts to shield and assist Du Xiaoyan, this isn’t simple.”

“Han Luyao also revealed a key point: the books were gradually balanced over the past one or two months.”

“Du Xiaoyan was extremely discreet—even he didn’t know when the books were fixed, let alone suspect they were linked to the fraud.”

“They must be linked.”

Li Xuewu looked at his relationship map, tapped his pencil: “We can now confirm the investigation direction.”

“Exactly.”

Xiang Yun nodded: “Han Luyao feared taking responsibility, so he never disclosed this part.”

“This isn’t just dereliction of duty.”

Zheng Fuhua spoke in a low tone: “This is shielding, intentional concealment of criminal facts.”

Xiang Yun glanced at him—he knew Zheng was resentful, believing Han Luyao’s malicious cover-up had derailed the case.

The situation seemed true—if Han Luyao had disclosed this during initial questioning, the branch wouldn’t have fixated on Zhao Ziliang.

Everyone knew Du Xiaoyan was Zhao Ziliang’s wife, yet no one noticed the blind spot right under their noses—Du Xiaoyan was the problem.

“According to Han Luyao, Du Xiaoyan has a long history: previously married, involved in assault cases, had murky relations with many cadres.”

Xiang Yun looked at them: “I’ve called you here today to clarify this case thoroughly.”

“I’ll state my position.”

Zheng Fuhua caught the implication in Xiang Yun’s words and spoke first: “If any branch cadre is involved, I will not tolerate it—I will deal with it decisively.”

“Thank you, Director Zheng, for your understanding and support.”

Xiang Yun sincerely thanked him, then turned to Yu Daru: “We’ll need Confidentiality’s assistance to escort several people back for investigation.”

As soon as he said this, Zheng Fuhua’s face darkened—he’d suspected it, guessed branch cadres might be involved.

Now the Discipline Inspection had confirmed it—and by assigning Confidentiality to assist, they clearly didn’t trust the branch.

Li Xuewu also saw the issue; he observed Zheng Fuhua for a moment, saw no sign of guilt, and relaxed.

If this involves Zheng Fuhua, this case has truly shattered the heavens—it could explode under current circumstances.

If the lid can’t be kept down, Li Xuewu won’t touch this risk at all; he’s ready to withdraw at any moment.

Yu Daru is watching this case for his own reasons—he’d already been given the cold shoulder by Lai Shanchuan while assisting the branch in the investigation, and had long been seething with anger.

If not for Li Xuewu mediating, applying pressure, and arranging a meeting between Zheng Fuhua and him, this matter would have become a full-blown scandal.

“The Security Department is on standby.”

He said to Xiang Yun: “Du Xiaoyan is downstairs, under constant guard by our personnel—there will be no issues.”

Hearing this, Li Xuewu slightly lifted his head and studied Zheng Fuhua’s expression, which grew even more serious.

What exactly did Lai Shanchuan do to Yu Daru to provoke such fury?

To the death?

“Then let’s split into two teams.”

Xiang Yun looked at Yu Daru and said: “You’ll need to work hard—join our comrades in action.”

Then he turned to Li Xuewu and Zheng Fuhua and said: “Both of you, please move to the interrogation room—we’ll interrogate Du Xiaoyan again.”

“I don’t need to participate, do I?”

Li Xuewu looked at Yu Daru, who had stood up, and Zheng Fuhua, still seated, and said: “This case is already clear and straightforward.”

“No—this case has only just begun.”

Xiang Yun looked earnestly at Li Xuewu and said: “We brought you here to provide interrogation support—our mission is extremely difficult.”

He saw Li Xuewu’s hesitation and understood his concerns; in front of Zheng Fuhua, he said bluntly: “The city leadership already knows about this case and has instructed us to get to the bottom of it and give the people a proper accounting.”

Well, since the issue has been raised to this level, Li Xuewu had no choice but to agree.

The reason he came after receiving the call today was to see who this case might involve.

If the problem is minor, he’d take whatever profit he could—it’s all free money anyway.

But if it’s a fire he can’t control, he absolutely won’t get involved—he won’t end up chasing a fox and getting covered in stink.

The fact that Xiang Yun said this proves the issue is still within his control and that Li Xuewu is cleared to participate.

“Let’s see just who this accountant and cashier really is—how she orchestrated such a grand scheme.”

Li Xuewu had met Du Xiaoyan before—he’d questioned her and Han Luyao alongside Lai Shanchuan at the branch.

He’d suspected something then, but since the case was in Lai Shanchuan’s hands, he’d only assisted as an interrogation and analytical resource.

Especially since the investigation direction had been clearly steered by the traps the other side had set—even if he raised objections, no one believed him.

In the end, he did suggest investigating Du Xiaoyan and Zhao Ziliang’s financials, but the branch focused entirely on Zhao Ziliang.

Indeed, once Zhao Ziliang was found to have issues, it further confirmed his motive and ability to commit murder and flee.

Li Xuewu was too shrewd—he saw Lai Shanchuan pushing Zhao Ziliang as the prime suspect and wouldn’t dare wade into that muddy water.

Times are different now—the case has ended up in the hands of the Discipline and Supervision Commission, something no one anticipated.

If the fraud and murder cases were serious, leaving them with the branch made sense.

Even if Zhao Ziliang had violated rules, it would still be the Discipline and Supervision Commission assisting.

But now that the Discipline and Supervision Commission is leading the investigation, it clearly indicates this case has major problems.

Either Du Xiaoyan’s issues are grave—or the investigators’ are.

A week later, seeing Du Xiaoyan again, the beautiful woman had lost all the arrogance and haughtiness she showed during their last meeting.

Led into the interrogation room by Security Department officers, she saw the men seated behind the table and felt her heart rise to her throat.

Xiang Yun watched her sit down, watched her handcuffs and leg irons fastened, then said: “Du Xiaoyan, this is your second interrogation. Fully cooperate with our investigation, voluntarily disclose your criminal acts, and seek leniency.”

He then introduced the two men beside him: “Your case is serious—we’ve teamed up with the branch and the Security Department. Don’t harbor any illusions.”

“This is Deputy Director Zheng of the branch, and this is Director Li of the Ministry’s Criminal Interrogation Unit. Every word and action of yours is under our scrutiny—don’t try any tricks.”

“Yes, I’ll confess and seek leniency—I’ll voluntarily disclose everything.”

Du Xiaoyan was clearly terrified—her gaze wandered, avoiding the three interrogators, yet her words were clear.

“Tell us about the assault case.”

Xiang Yun signaled Li Xuewu to take the lead—he politely deferred, then began the interrogation.

He didn’t start with the fraud or murder case, nor with her past issues—he asked about the assault case Han Luyao had disclosed.

Interrogation is an art—avoid the heavy, feint to the side—anything can be used, as long as it’s done well.

Du Xiaoyan hadn’t expected Li Xuewu to begin with this.

“I hope you tell the truth clearly—whether you lied or deceived me, I’ll know just by watching you.”

Li Xuewu spoke calmly: “I’m giving you this chance now—you’re already here. Our investigation is only a matter of time; once we proceed, you won’t get another chance to take the initiative.”

“That… that incident is all in the past.”

Du Xiaoyan remained guarded toward Li Xuewu’s questions, watching their faces and stammering: “It… it was already handled, and no one pursued it.”

“But that doesn’t mean there’s no problem, does it?”

Li Xuewu tapped the table: “Think carefully—whose lives your actions have entangled.”

He gestured toward Zheng Fuhua and Xiang Yun beside him: “One is Deputy Director of the branch, one is Director of the Discipline and Supervision Commission—I’m the Ministry’s coordinator. Don’t you understand the gravity of this case yet?”

“I… I didn’t.”

Du Xiaoyan was still struggling internally, head bowed, resisting the pressure from across the table.

“Cough—”

Zheng Fuhua cleared his throat and said: “Don’t harbor any illusions. Your case has been reassigned to a new investigation team—your connections aren’t on it.”

“I’ll make this clear—if you don’t speak now, when convicted, you’ll bear the full blame.”

His voice turned suddenly stern, his expression terrifyingly authoritative; he lightly slapped the table: “I’ll tell you plainly—your offenses are grave. If pushed to the extreme, you could be executed.”

“I didn’t!”

Du Xiaoyan shouted, then clenched her lips stubbornly, tears streaming down.

But no one in the interrogation room showed any sympathy or pity—this case involved one death and one disappearance, and she was the prime suspect—who could pity her?

“I’m not frightening you or threatening you.”

Li Xuewu moved his teacup and looked at her: “Look at the iron chains on your hands and feet—do you really think you’ll walk out of here?”

“I advise you to abandon illusions. If you stubbornly refuse to confess, the only reason those chains will be removed—you know what it is.”

“Think of your parents and siblings—you’ve provided them with food, clothing, and money to waste—do they have the means to pay for this bullet?”

“I dare say—they can’t afford it.”

Li Xuewu tapped the table: “Because of you, they’ll bear joint liability.”

“Not only will your ill-gotten gains be seized to cover the losses, but they’ll spend their lives shamed—and may even be imprisoned alongside you.”

“You’re educated—you know the law. You’ve been here before—surely you’ve thought about this already?”

Li Xuewu spoke at length, building her psychological resolve; everyone in the room waited for Du Xiaoyan’s reaction.

“That was my ex-husband.”

Du Xiaoyan lowered her head, hesitated a long while, then said: “Our marriage was arranged by our families—we were only sixteen then.”

“My father was a carpenter; his master was a cook. A matchmaker introduced us, saying cooking was a lucrative trade—you’d never starve. My father believed it.”

“Though our family wasn’t wealthy, I was the eldest daughter, and my parents treated me well. I was also good-looking—many came to court me. I never imagined I’d marry a cook.”

“After we married, we lived with his master—they often traveled outside to cater banquets, leaving me alone at home…”

Old saying: young couples shouldn’t be separated—separation invites trouble. How could a new bride endure such solitude?

Du Xiaoyan had always been restless—lively, warm, generous, and beautiful—she naturally attracted men.

If she’d been a maiden, it’d be different—parents would watch over her, and men would hesitate.

But once they saw she was a newlywed, the suitors multiplied.

She often went to the grain station to help her family secure rations; gradually, she became involved with the station’s manager.

Since the cook was always away, she and the grain station man were busy at home—busy until something happened.

The cook’s catering schedule was unpredictable—he’d sometimes return early and catch them on the bed.

The world has never lacked a Ximen Qing and a Pan Jinlian. Du Xiaoyan herself spoke of her suffering, saying they were both young then, didn’t understand marital affection, and only knew how to play.

The grain station man pursued her, promising to arrange her a job—so she climbed into his bed.

The returning cook naturally refused to accept it, but the grain station man was big and strong—he shoved and beat him, somehow breaking his leg.

The incident blew up, but the grain station man wasn’t afraid—he used connections to silence the cook and even forged their divorce papers.

In that era, a grain station official—think how much power he wielded.

He drove off the cook and took his place, becoming Du Xiaoyan’s protector.

It wasn’t in vain that she’d played Pan Jinlian—even though he never married her, he did arrange her a job.

She started high: as an accountant at the grain station. For a girl from a modest family, only sixteen, handling large sums daily—anyone would go astray.

Seeing others wear watches, eat well—how could she not envy them?

So she directly stole from public funds. According to Du Xiaoyan, the first time she didn’t dare take much—only one hundred yuan.

A hundred yuan—equivalent to three months’ salary for an ordinary worker.

Think about it—she’d never done accounting before; she’d been placed there by others and was still learning.

She stole money but didn’t know how to falsify accounts—when questioned, she trembled and revealed inconsistencies; the senior accountant checked and immediately knew how much she’d stolen.

The incident wasn’t huge, but not trivial either—she was dishonest, and her entry into the station was improper; rumors spread through the station.

The grain station manager couldn’t let her stay—he used connections to send his mistress to a nearby vegetable brigade, where she resumed her old role.

You wouldn’t believe it—in those few years at the vegetable brigade, she actually settled down. Whether from reflection or repentance, Du Xiaoyan studied financial skills intensely.

No accountant in the entire brigade could match her skill with the abacus.

He can’t take praise—he gets cocky the moment someone compliments him.

Right after the brigade’s financial work commendation meeting, she embezzled five hundred yuan from the unit’s public account.

Good heavens, she was truly bold—the squad leader ran the numbers with the ledger and found his entire year’s salary gone.