Chapter 964: Get on the Bed~

“Hey! Hey! You actually bite?!”

Huang Ganjian was teasing Pei Pei, but suddenly felt pain on his shoulder and quickly set her down.

Pei Pei’s face flushed red; she lunged forward with claws outstretched, but he scooped her up, spun her around several times, then patted her bottom and placed her on the chair.

“Today I’m treating you all—chances to loot the rich and powerful don’t come often. Eat whatever you like, hurry up and pick up your chopsticks.”

“I believe that!”

Ma Jun raised an eyebrow and asked Ao Zhongliang: “Do you even remember when he last treated us?”

“Did he ever treat us?”

Ao Zhongliang rolled his eyes, gestured for Li Xuewu to sit beside him, then flipped his chopsticks around and shot back: “All I remember is him gobbling up our food!”

“Hey!”

Zhong Jingxue pulled Li Bai over to sit beside him, smiling as he pointed at Ao Zhongliang: “That’s a harsh one!”

“Haha! Who made him do that thing?!”

Ao Zhongliang winked at Ouxin, who sat beside Li Xuewu, and smirked: “Go ask the kitchen if they’ve got any more lamb—bring another three or five pounds.”

“Hey! Hey! Enough already!”

Huang Ganjian gripped Pei Pei’s shoulders from behind and waved at the group: “You really think I’m some rich, cruel landlord?!”

He bent down, leaned close to her cheek, and grinned: “Tell them—what am I?”

“A jerk~”

Pei Pei rolled her eyes, ignored him completely, and twisted her shoulder away to avoid his touch.

Huang Ganjian knew exactly how to soothe a girl—he didn’t care about her attitude, straightened up, and announced to the group: “I’m the Little Mengchang of Dongcheng!”

“Don’t sneer yet—let me finish!”

He waved his hand, pulled Pei Pei close, and sat beside her, addressing those who had already started eating: “Think about it—do I have money?”

“Hey! Let’s be honest!”

Huang Ganjian stiffened his neck seriously: “I’ll do anything bad—but I never touch public funds!”

“Hmm, I do agree with that.”

Ma Jun took a bite of hotpot lamb and nodded: “Comrade Huang Ganjian has strong ethical boundaries at work—but none elsewhere.”

“Say whatever you want!”

Huang Ganjian chuckled, grabbed his chopsticks, and shrugged: “I’m poor. I’ve got no money. What are you gonna do about it?”

“So shameless~”

Pei Pei glanced at him and pointed to the stove beneath the pot: “This charcoal might not even heat through!”

“You’re complimenting him? With charcoal?”

Ao Zhongliang shook his head: “Even Laozi’s Three Pure Fires wouldn’t help!”

“Hey! Listen up!”

He pointed at Huang Ganjian and asked the others: “Doesn’t his statement imply he’s the only clean one, and we’re all jerks?”

“Heh~ He doesn’t touch public money~”

Zhong Jingxue sneered at Huang Ganjian: “He only steals private funds—do you really think he’s a good guy?!”

“Speak up! Confess!”

Ma Jun tapped the table lightly and asked him: “Over the years, what dirty deeds have you done?!”

“Heh~ heh!”

Huang Ganjian smirked, raised his wine cup to toast: “I don’t know if I’ve done anything against my conscience—but I know I haven’t starved my stomach!”

“Come on, drink up!”

“See! The truth’s out!”

Ma Jun raised his cup, pointed at Huang Ganjian, and downed his drink with everyone else.

“Sss~ hah!”

He swallowed the whole cup, frowned slightly: “Why is this liquor so strong?”

“Sorghum liquor, small-pot distilled.”

Huang Ganjian smiled, gestured to Li Xuewu: “How is it?”

“So-so~”

Li Xuewu sipped his lips: “From Taodian Farm?”

“Didn’t I tell you a few days ago?”

Huang Ganjian sat up straight, pulled his arm away from behind Pei Pei, and explained: “I told them I don’t drink—they insisted I taste it.”

“Poor technique, bad control of the still—this alcohol’s too weak.”

Li Xuewu sniffed the wine, shook his head slightly: “They really sell this stuff?”

“At least you get something to drink—do you think everywhere’s like Jingcheng?”

Huang Ganjian grabbed the bottle, refilled everyone’s cups, and added: “They only supply nearby villages and towns’ supply cooperatives—and sell it cheap.”

Ouxin, listening, picked up Li Xuewu’s cup, took a tiny sip, then immediately spat out her tongue from the burn.

“Oh, by the way”

After pouring everyone’s wine, Huang Ganjian tilted his chin toward Li Xuewu: “Where were you yesterday? Didn’t you work on the case?”

“Did you go to the Discipline Inspection?”

Li Xuewu glanced at him, picked up a piece of frozen tofu, and asked: “The process moved this fast—already reached you?”

“Straight to the top.”

Huang Ganjian chewed his meat and explained: “Everyone you arrested that night was sent here—we interrogated them all night, kept them under heavy guard.”

“That’s right~”

Li Xuewu nodded, lips pressed tight, and ate the tofu.

Huang Ganjian glanced sideways at him: “The case’s almost over—aren’t you going to see it through?”

“Mm. Not interesting.”

Li Xuewu noticed everyone had fallen silent—some eating, others watching him, listening.

“Everyone who needed arresting has been arrested. Every issue has been investigated. My staying now would just be redundant.”

“True~”

Huang Ganjian chewed thoughtfully, shook his head: “Like we’re missing something without him.”

He raised his cup: “Come on, drink.”

“Take it easy~”

Ma Jun raised his cup, teasing: “You’re not trying to save the lamb by getting us drunk with free liquor, are you?”

“Since you figured it out, just drink already~”

Huang Ganjian clinked his cup with Ma Jun’s, then tapped Li Xuewu’s cup as he did: “Retreat to advance—brilliant!”

“Heh~”

Li Xuewu didn’t bother explaining—he downed his cup in one gulp, as Ouxin stared wide-eyed beside him.

The others had planned to drink only half, but seeing him finish, they grimaced and drained their cups too.

“Damn! Strong!”

Zhong Jingxue grimaced, shook his head: “If we keep drinking like this, we’ll all collapse tonight.”

“It’s the weekend—so what?”

Huang Ganjian shrugged: “I’m on duty tonight—do I look scared?”

“Mm, you better be on duty!”

Zhong Jingxue glanced at him: “Let’s continue tomorrow—I don’t believe you’d dare go home.”

“Heh heh~ This is thanks to Comrade Li Xuewu!”

Huang Ganjian gestured toward Li Xuewu: “He cracked a huge case—I won’t have to go home for two weeks.”

“Look at you showing off~”

Zhong Jingxue glanced at him with envy—the longing and jealousy of a married man who didn’t want to go home.

Ma Jun didn’t care about that—he focused on the case.

“Tell us—what’s this case really about? Dongcheng’s made headlines this time!”

“Heh~ It’s got nothing to do with me~”

Huang Ganjian pointed at Li Xuewu: “See that? The Youth Expert in Criminal Investigation from headquarters—he strikes hard every time!”

“You know Ju Shan Chuan from the branch?”

“Yes!”

Ao Zhongliang’s eyes lit up: “We heard he’s coming to be deputy director here in Xicheng.”

“Damn—he trained that special ops unit!”

Huang Ganjian pointed at Li Xuewu: “At 3 a.m., over two hundred meters away—three shots, three holes, not one missed!”

As he spoke, he gestured on his own head where the bullets entered and how the men fell.

Pei Pei grew frightened, slapped his arm as he gestured, telling him to stop—muttering about bad luck.

Huang Ganjian chuckled: “I’m just explaining—I don’t have some jerk of a son to ruin me.”

Ouxin, listening to his account of the night’s arrest, trembled slightly, grabbed the big hand beside her under the table, and stared nervously at Li Xuewu.

Li Xuewu glanced at her, smiled faintly, then asked Huang Ganjian: “Where’d you hear all this nonsense? Anyone’d think you were upstairs watching.”

No need! I’ve got the Qianliyan !

Huang Gan replied to him, then seriously told the group: “Lai Shanchuan wanted to use the Golden Cicada Shedding its Shell, substituting one for another—but what happened?”

“I always say, raising a son and ignoring him is a sin!”

He said angrily: “On that night, Lai Yide confessed everything—about himself and his father, how they disposed of the body, and even those people above.”

“The key point! Not including the hundred-plus people dragged in by Du Xiaoyan alone!”

Huang Gan crossed his legs, waved his finger, and emphasized: “Not even the people uncovered after digging deeper from that hundred-plus!”

“It’s just that he and his father, and all those tied to Du Xiaoyan, used his father’s name as cover. His father cleaned up after him and got tangled in a huge web of connections above, plus his father’s original ties.”

“Damn!”

He slapped Pei Pei’s thigh beside him and pointed at everyone: “The Ji Jian Building has cleared out two full floors for this case!”

“Sss~ You bastard…”

Pei Pei winced from the slap, scowling and about to snap—then felt a numb, tingling sensation on his thigh. This bastard had switched from slapping to groping!

That wasn’t even the end—look at him, seriously explaining the case to everyone, yet his big hand under the table had already moved to that spot.

Ma Jun and the others didn’t notice, still listening to him ramble, but Tian Tian beside Ma Jun saw it and picked up a toothpick from the table and handed it to Pei Pei.

If no one had seen, Pei Pei might’ve let him get away with it—but there were people in this room, and Tian Tian knew. How could she not poke him?

“Sss~!”

Huang Gan winced in pain but dared not shout; instead, he used the pain to stand up, secretly shook his hand, picked up the bottle of liquor, and said to everyone: “You don’t care about the Big Red Flag, right?”

“Three!”

He held up his fingers: “Three Big Red Flags mean what? Just wait for the news!”

“Or maybe there won’t be any news at all.”

Ma Jun clinked his cup with Li Xuewu and said: “You’re really impressive—you always handle big cases.”

“Pure coincidence.”

Li Xuewu drank half his cup, sniffed, and said: “We started with fraud and murder cases—who knew it would spiral into all this?”

“From now on, whenever he handles a big case, it won’t be coincidence anymore!”

Huang Gan circled around, refilled everyone’s glasses, and stood behind Li Xuewu explaining: “Just this once, by year-end he’ll be named at least one of the Top Advanced Individuals—excluding department-level, nationwide!”

“Do you know what weight a criminal investigation expert carries?”

He walked back to his seat, sat down, and pointed at Li Xuewu: “Do you know what it means that this criminal investigation expert is barely twenty-one?”

“The key point!”

Huang Gan tapped the table with his finger: “He’s also the deputy commander of the Third Guard Regiment—and he’s personally trained an outstanding urban security force!”

“Brother, let’s drink one.”

Ma Jun raised his cup respectfully to toast Li Xuewu; Ao Zhongliang and Zhong Jingxue raised theirs too.

Li Xuewu smiled at them, unsure what to say, shook his head slightly, and lifted his cup.

Huang Gan clinked his cup with him seriously: “Bro, you’re legendary!”

Ouxin gazed at Li Xuewu with pure admiration, her eyes sparkling.

The more time she spent with these big brothers, the more she looked down on the young kids back in the compound.

How could she look up to them? Without comparing to freaks like Li Xuewu, even someone like Huang Gan was already a prison director at the First Detention Center.

Since starting work at the club, she’d been dealing with cadres at deputy department level and above; her daily banter was with top leaders from every unit.

Sometimes, when they went out, Huang Gan or Ma Jun’s Jeeps came to pick them up—the young kids back in the compound could only stare, mouths agape.

There were rumors, of course—saying they weren’t clean, that they had no morals.

When reported to the compound management office—or even whispered to those little brats—it actually drew official attention.

The management office came to investigate: they were working properly, far more ambitious than the lazy kids idling in the compound.

And what about those little brats from the Red Flag Team?

They’d tried tailing them before—but got scared off at the club’s entrance.

They could bully unarmed civilians, but facing a guarded facility like this? They feared getting killed.

The more they interacted, the higher Ouxin and the others’ standards rose—none of their peers could measure up.

But even so, did they really have any romantic relationship with these big brothers?

Others didn’t know, but Ouxin knew her virginity was intact.

Look at Huang Gan and Pei Pei acting close—they hadn’t crossed any line. Even intimate gestures? Huang Gan firmly held the boundary.

Someone who looks bad isn’t necessarily bad; someone who looks good isn’t necessarily good.

But Ouxin thought Li Xuewu was bad—just perfectly bad. Bad-good… bad-good!

“When Yu Li called me over for dinner, I already said: this is a Hongmen Banquet.”

Li Xuewu put down his cup, smiled, and nodded at Huang Gan: “See? You drank the wine they gave me, now you’re flattering me—next, are you going to bring out the axe-men?”

“Hahaha~”

Huang Gan reached under the table for another bottle to stand and pour more, but Pei Pei snatched it away.

“Fine~ fine~ fine~”

Seeing Pei Pei worried about his drunkenness, he swayed and said, face flushed with alcohol: “Let my sister pour my wine.”

As he spoke, he patted Pei Pei’s butt—earning a massive side-eye.

“Hahaha~”

Huang Gan laughed it off, brushed back his sweat-damp hair, and looked at Li Xuewu: “You’re overthinking. I’m just happy—wanted everyone to gather.”

“Alright then, don’t bring up any business.”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow: “The rule before dinner still stands—whoever mentions work is a dog.”

“Don’t you see yet?”

Pei Pei poured Li Xuewu’s wine, smiling: “He just wants to thank you—but he’s too proud to say it.”

“Oh? Is that it?”

Li Xuewu smiled at him: “If you wanted to thank me, why go to all this expense?”

Just as Huang Gan was moved to speak, Li Xuewu raised his cup to gesture to Ma Jun and the others: “Just kneel down.”

“Hahaha~”

…

Huang Gan truly wanted to thank Li Xuewu—for his family, for himself, and for Wang Zheng.

But they were friends; for small favors, he didn’t need to say thanks, and for big ones, he could say it outright.

But how could a simple “thank you” express gratitude for something that touched so many people and lifted all of them forward?

His praise of Li Xuewu was just an emotional expression; mentioning the year-end award was also a subtle hint at how to repay him.

Yesterday, he’d planned to introduce Li Xuewu to his family’s resources—to show his goodwill.

But Li Xuewu refused to accept such a grand gift, so Huang Gan invited Ma Jun and others who knew Li Xuewu—making it a formal thank-you.

Once the words were spoken, the wine flowed freely. They all had capacity—but their usual tolerance didn’t match the strength of this sorghum liquor.

At dinner, they discussed the labor education programs currently running at the First Detention Center. Huang Gan wanted to cut some and transfer them to the Third Detention Center, and give part to Chadian Farm.

Zhong Jingxue strongly supported and thanked him for the decision, raising his cup in a special toast.

Huang Gan himself said: the First Detention Center is only so big, with only so many people—what matters is positioning. It’s time to make choices.

The paper mill has already been decided to move; printing will move too—to the Third Detention Center in Xicheng.

Small items like badge production, playing cards, chess sets, lanterns—all cut. Hand them over to Chadian Farm.

The First Detention Center will keep only garment manufacturing, leather goods production, and the newly established radio factory.

Ma Jun said he’d tasted the sweetness of low cost and high profit: one tiny radio factory now outearned all the relocated projects combined.

Zhong Jingxue didn’t mind the smaller profits—they only had printing and furniture before; now these new projects would bring in extra income.

Gathered, they were a fire; scattered, they were stars. Huang Gan voluntarily gave up his projects—avoiding envy, gaining good reputation.

The fact that Chadian Farm came knocking proves he’d already drawn too much attention.

The few projects he kept were just enough for the First Detention Center’s growth; the funds accumulated over the past months had already upgraded all its physical infrastructure.

He himself said he wouldn’t touch a single cent of public money—so every cent earned belonged to the First Detention Center.

If he refused to reform himself, not only would his family’s progress stall—he’d be “progressed” out of here himself.

He might even get transferred to Longjiang or the Northwest District—to where he was most needed, to apply his economic management skills.

Then he’d be crying without knowing why: in Beijing he was Huang Gan; out there, they’d just make him work.

Today, bringing this up over wine with Li Xuewu was mainly to give him a heads-up.

First, the paper mill operates in partnership with the recycling station; moving to Chadian requires formal arrangements.

Second, the printing plant partners with Huaqing University; moving to Xicheng’s Third Detention Center requires notifying Huaqing.

Finally, for all those minor projects, Huang Gan was firm—he priced them under the First Detention Center’s name and sold them outright to Chadian Farm.

Chadian had no cash to pay, so they compensated with products.

Of course, all products were still sold and operated by the recycling station—a kind of chokehold.

As long as both units cooperated well, this model was mutually beneficial.

Especially papermaking—Chadian, sitting near Jinmen, would never lack raw materials.

Li Xuewu wasn’t petty; the bigger the recycling station grew, the safer and more efficient it became to operate as a distributor, building a supply chain.

The theory he’d explained to Zhang Changming of the Jinmen Seafood Corporation was exactly what the recycling station was doing.

No operational liability, no product management or transportation responsibility, no contact with official accounting.

Build a supply chain management channel that only connects and networks, with few people and small targets but high turnover.

If there weren’t future plans involving culture, the paper mill could actually be discarded.

But now, the printing demand for little picture books and red-covered books is substantial, along with demand for cultural notebooks and other cultural products—the paper mill must be kept under control.

Li Xuewu supports Huang Gan in launching projects openly; each spark of light that illuminates a prison adds another production base to the recycling station.

It’s not impossible that some prisons might handle projects themselves and sell them directly, but that wouldn’t hurt anything.

The trade network controlled by the recycling station can’t possibly be matched by the unprofessional sales capability of a single prison.

A prison is a walled city; high-voltage lines don’t just confine people—they bind their hands, feet, and thoughts.

Without a professional sales team managing these projects, how could the guards push carts out to sell little picture books?

So when Huang Gan apologized to him, Li Xuewu forgave him generously and even said that good friends should help each other.

Even in this case, Li Xuewu gave up keeping all the profits for himself and made room for everyone; he casually declined Huang Gan’s thanks.

This made Ma Jun and others feel he was trustworthy, moved Huang Gan to grab his hand and beg to swear brotherhood, and earned genuine admiration from Ou Xin and the others.

Of course, the sworn brotherhood never happened—he got drunk and acted foolishly, but Li Xuewu hadn’t drunk much at all.

After lunch ended, Huang Gan and the others stumbled drowsily to the side room’s kang, supported by Pei Pei and the others.

Ou Xin reached out to help Li Xuewu, but he refused.

“I’m fine, I really haven’t drunk much.”

Li Xuewu smiled, patted Ou Xin’s small hand, and said: “Do you think those few little drunks could knock me down? That’s an international joke.”

“Seriously, we invited you to drink, and you passed out first.”

Pei Pei came out from the inner room, scolding: “With such a weak tolerance, why are you even organizing this?”

“That’s quite a bit already~”

Ou Xin kicked a bottle on the floor and reminded her: “A whole case is gone—Huang Ge and the others drank at least a pound and a half.”

“That’s true.”

Pei Pei was tidying up, astonished to see Li Xuewu, completely sober, dressing himself, and asked: “Wu Ge, just how much can you drink?”

“What?”

She watched him hold up one finger behind him, and asked in surprise: “One bottle?”

“No!”

Before Li Xuewu could answer, she looked again at the empty bottles and realized it couldn’t be just one.

“A pound…?!”

“A whole case?!!”

“He just keeps drinking!”

Li Xuewu teased them with a smile, grabbed his hat from the coat rack, put it on, and walked out.

Tian Tian chuckled, glanced at Pei Pei, who was frozen in shock, and nudged Ou Xin: “Hurry up and follow him—he might fall.”

“Huh? Oh!”

Ou Xin hadn’t caught on yet, but when Tian Tian winked at her, she understood—blushing, she pulled on her cotton coat, grabbed the scarf from the rack, and ran after him.

“He really just keeps drinking?”

Pei Pei stared, dumbfounded, at Su Yu and Li Bai walking out of the inner room, still muttering to herself.

Tian Tian smiled, began clearing the table, and scolded: “You actually believe what they say?”

Pei Pei still frowned: “Then where did he put all that alcohol?”

“Ge~ You really didn’t drink much?”

Ou Xin walked beside Li Xuewu, studying his face, and kept asking all the way.

Li Xuewu glanced at her with amusement and asked: “What, you want me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”

He pulled his coat tighter and declared solemnly: “Don’t think just because I drink that I don’t know—men away from home must protect themselves.”

“Ge~!”

Ou Xin clung to his arm, hugging it tightly, and scolded: “What do you think I am—a female hooligan?!”

“You said it yourself!”

Li Xuewu tapped her nose, climbed the steps to the main gate’s porch, and kicked off some dust from his shoes.

Zhang Dayong was on guard outside, turned, glanced at him through the side door, and saluted.

Li Xuewu looked him over and asked: “Cold?”

“Not bad—we switch shifts every half hour.”

Zhang Dayong grinned, his face earnest, gestured toward the vehicle entrance, and reported: “My next shift is indoor duty—Er Chun is coming to relieve me.”

“Got any news from your dad?”

Li Xuewu pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and tossed the rest to him.

Zhang Dayong caught them with both hands—it was a half-full pack of Huazi.

“I got a letter early this month—from Sister Yu.”

His smile widened, and he licked his lips: “My mom wrote mid-month saying after the New Year, my younger brother will come to Beijing to train under you.”

“Fine—as long as you’re willing to learn, and don’t mind.”

Li Xuewu smiled, pointed to the guardhouse: “If you get drunk, sleep it off. If anyone comes looking for me, send them here.”

“Yes!”

Zhang Dayong saluted again.

Li Xuewu left him alone, pushed open the door, and entered the guardhouse.

Unlike in summer, all gate posts and guardhouses were now under the Club Security Department’s management.

The Security Department was trained entirely at the Hongxing Training Ground, so their internal discipline was flawless.

The room was warm—the stove burned coal bricks. He greeted the guard on duty and went deeper inside.

The guard was hired by Zhao Laosi—a local Beijing resident, sharp as a tack.

Seeing Li Xuewu enter, he sprang to his feet and saluted—he’d been listening at the door for a while.

“Director Li, rest up—I’ll get you some water.”

“I’ll do it~”

Ou Xin chimed in with a smile, watched Li Xuewu enter the inner room, nodded to the guard, and whispered: “Carry on—he drank too much, just lying down, waiting for someone.”

“Got it, thanks for your trouble.”

The guard knew Ou Xin’s role as a server—he smiled, pointed outside: “I’m switching shifts—I’ll call you if someone arrives.”

“Thanks~”

Ou Xin stood by the door, saw the guard out, then closed it.

She knew Li Xuewu never drank water from outside—he only drank tea in Yu Li’s office.

Whether it was because he thought the cups were dirty or feared someone might poison his tea, she didn’t know.

Ou Xin entered the inner room and saw Li Xuewu, stripped of his coat and jacket, lying on the kang—his fierce aura gone, looking oddly endearing.

“Take off your shoes and lie down—rest your feet.”

“Mm, just a bit sleepy.”

Hearing her, Li Xuewu tried to sit up, but Ou Xin stopped him.

She stepped forward and helped him off his cotton leather boots, saying: “You’d be better off switching to cloth shoes—these leather ones are too heavy.”

“For style.”

Li Xuewu smiled, lay back, and pointed to the wool coat hanging on the wall: “Wear a coat with cloth shoes—it looks ridiculous.”

“So what?!”

Ou Xin patted his leg, gestured for him to scoot up, and placed a cushion under his feet.

Anyone who’s slept on a kang knows: lying flat in clothes, the lower body heats up while the upper body grows cold.

Just drape a cushion over your body or feet, and warmth spreads evenly—especially comforting in winter.

Li Xuewu covered himself with his own coat—he didn’t touch the guard’s bedding. If there was a rule, he wouldn’t be the one to break it.

Ou Xin sat beside Li Xuewu, touched his forehead, and asked: “Ge, are you thirsty? Should I get you some water?”

“Don’t bother—I’m not thirsty, I really haven’t drunk much.”

Li Xuewu squinted at her and asked: “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“No big tasks at lunchtime~”

Ou Xin smiled faintly: “We mainly clean and maintain equipment—we’re busy only in the morning.”

“So you’ve got surplus staff~”

Li Xuewu winked and chuckled: “Looks like we need to fire a few—no matter how big the business, you can’t keep idle people.”

“Ge~ You’re always teasing me~”

Ou Xin lightly punched him: “You talk about idle people—how many people in this compound even get a salary?”

“Hey, don’t say it like that~”

Li Xuewu turned his head, looked at her: “All this effort now is for a better tomorrow—they’re still learning, still gaining experience—how can you talk about money? How vulgar!”

“Only you can say that.”

Ou Xin leaned sideways against Li Xuewu, pouted and smiled: “Security Chief Zhao Dezhu tells them this every day—they’re practically obsessed.”

She leaned closer, teasing: “He even tells them that once the Club officially opens next year, they’ll all become formal employees.”

“He also talks about three years as apprentices, five years of service—so funny.”

“He misunderstood.”

Li Xuewu closed his eyes to doze off, listening to her chattering in his ear, responding half-heartedly: “You must understand the management system properly and fully communicate it...”

“Mmm~”

His barely closed eyelids twitched at Ou Xin’s sudden attack; he gritted his teeth and refused to open them.

He couldn’t open his eyes—he must firmly uphold his moral Dixian of no promises, no refusals, no responsibility.

Ou Xin clearly had no experience with kissing; she’d probably gotten too excited and bitten his teeth.

This girl was stubborn—even in pain, she wouldn’t let go.

Seeing Li Xuewu didn’t push her away, she took it as tacit approval and pressed her whole body against him.

Li Xuewu gently patted her back, signaling her to calm down.

Feeling her trembling nerves, he had no choice but to take the lead, teaching her twenty ways of oral combat.

Things like spring water, angels, ice and fire, vacuum, and so on.

Of course, these details need no elaboration—readers with lots of experience already know them, so we won’t dwell on them.

“Wake up, you didn’t faint, did you?”

Li Xuewu looked at Ou Xin lying in his arms, helplessly patted her flushed cheeks, afraid she might suffocate and pass out.

Ou Xin kept her eyes tightly shut, her body stiff, fists clenched so hard she looked ready to die heroically.

Her fluttering eyelashes revealed her inner turmoil, as lively as her wildly pounding heart.

“Director Li, someone’s here to see you.”

“Ah… damn it~”

The moment Li Xuewu answered, his chin was struck by Ou Xin suddenly sitting up.

Her face was still red; she covered her forehead and glanced outside in panic.

Only when she jumped off the kang to leave did she notice Li Xuewu clutching his chin.

“S-sorry, Brother Wu… uh… are you okay?”

“Mmm~ mmm~”

Li Xuewu clutched his chin, wanting to laugh but unable to, blinked repeatedly, and mumbled: “Go let them in.”

“Oh~ oh~”

Ou Xin was still flustered, murmuring in reply, staring at Li Xuewu for several seconds before finally realizing—then blushing again and hurrying out.

At the door, Gu Cheng surveyed the grand courtyard, wondering where this place was.

Peng Xiao didn’t come here for the first time—he knew exactly where it was—but still felt uneasy.

When a pretty girl stepped out of the gatehouse, both men’s gazes fixed on her, nearly causing Ou Xin to crash into the door.

“Um… um… are you here to see…?”

“We’re here for Deputy Director Li.”

Peng Xiao glanced inside, where the cotton curtain hung, revealing nothing.

Before the girl, head bowed and stammering, could answer, the boss’s voice came from inside.

“Xiao Li, come in.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Peng Xiao shot a glance at the girl, tapped Gu Cheng to stop staring, and pushed him into the gatehouse.

He himself nodded politely to the girl, then followed inside.

“Boss.”

“Deputy Director Li.”

“Mm, mm, find a place to sit.”

Li Xuewu waved his hand casually, still seated on the kang.

Peng Xiao noticed his chin, surprised: “Boss, what happened to you…?”

“Got up too fast, hit my chin on the kang edge.”

Li Xuewu shook his head helplessly, signaling him not to worry.

Gu Cheng’s eyes darted around the room—no one else inside—and thought of the girl who’d just left, flushed…

Could Deputy Director Li have done something, and gotten punched by her?

Then he reconsidered—it didn’t make sense. If Li were that kind of guy, he’d have no trouble finding willing partners at work.

And if that girl had really encountered Li taking the initiative, she’d never have had the chance to throw a punch.

These thoughts flashed through their minds in an instant; hearing the boss’s call, they quickly sat up straight and focused.

“How’d you get here?”

Gu Cheng answered: “By motorcycle—I got a sidecar bike, had the factory prepare it.”

“I can’t ride the sidecar well yet, didn’t dare go fast—wasn’t too cold.”

“I nearly froze to death.”

Peng Xiao stuck his hand under the kang, grinned at Li Xuewu, and gestured to Gu Cheng: “You hear him? Says he can’t go fast—almost twisted the throttle into the fuel tank.”

“Get on the kang.”

Li Xuewu waved his hand toward Peng Xiao and Gu Cheng: “The kang’s nice and hot.”

“Then we won’t be polite.”

Peng Xiao knew exactly what kind of boss Li was—no pretense—kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the kang.

Seeing Peng Xiao do it, Gu Cheng stopped pretending too, grinned, and took off his shoes to climb up.

Li Xuewu pulled out the mat he’d been using to cover his feet and gave it to them, asking: “What time did you finish last night?”

“Not late—around seven.”

Gu Cheng glanced at Peng Xiao and replied: “I got back to the factory around half past seven.”

“Didn’t want to disturb your rest, so we decided to circle back today and came over in the afternoon.”

Peng Xiao rested his butt on the warm kang—the motorcycle ride had chilled him to the bone.

Li Xuewu nodded, got off the kang, put on his shoes, walked to the tea cabinet, picked up two teacups, fetched the thermos, and returned.

Peng Xiao and Gu Cheng tried to get up to help, but Li Xuewu refused.

“Tell me—what did you find?”

“I’ll go first.”

Seeing Gu Cheng look at him, Peng Xiao spoke up: “Zhang Shicheng first went to the East City credit union, then to the supply and marketing cooperative, followed them to the branch office, and finally ended up at the Discipline Inspection office.”

“He dared to go in and ask?”

Li Xuewu poured hot water for them and asked at this point.

“Thank you, Boss.”

Gu Cheng took the teacup, thanked him, then explained: “At the credit union, he hung around outside for a long time before going in to ask.”

“Yesterday I was alone—I was afraid of losing him, didn’t have time to go in. Today morning, we retraced his route and figured out his trick.”

“At the credit union, he pretended to open an account and casually asked around.”

Peng Xiao raised his eyes, cradling the teacup: “At the supply and marketing cooperative, he claimed to be Zhang Shuqin’s cousin-in-law.”

“At the branch office, he used the identity of Yulanfang’s maternal cousin, saying he’d been sent by his family to check on the case progress.”

“At the Discipline Inspection office, he switched again—now he’s Zhang Shuqin’s paternal cousin.”

Gu Cheng sneered: “He’s really cunning—he knows how to change identities to cover his tracks!”