Chapter 973: Everyone Must Die!

“Let’s talk here.”

Li Xuewu deliberately left the restaurant door open, his eyes scanning the woman up and down.

Zhou Miaomiao gripped the hem of her blouse, lips pressed tight, stole a nervous glance at him, then lowered her head and said: “Li… Li Deputy Director.”

“I’m sorry!”

The yacht was accelerating; she swayed slightly, using the momentum to bow deeply in apology to Li Xuewu.

Li Xuewu smirked, his gaze curious as he studied her, then walked to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

“Are you apologizing to me?”

Before Zhou Miaomiao could answer, he pointed at the chair across the table and said: “Sit down and talk.”

“Li Deputy Director…”

Zhou Miaomiao lifted her head to explain, but saw Li Xuewu’s eyes narrowing, his gaze growing sharper.

“Sit down first!”

She trembled, dared not speak again, and shuffled over to sit across from him.

Li Xuewu’s index finger tapped lightly on the table. After studying the bowed head of Zhou Miaomiao for a long moment, he finally broke the silence.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I…”

Zhou Miaomiao hesitated, but when she met Li Xuewu’s gaze across the table, she was already trapped.

“I know I was wrong—I shouldn’t have snooped into your privacy, shouldn’t have probed your personal relationships, and certainly shouldn’t have…”

“Mmm~ mmm~”

Li Xuewu grunted twice through his nose, cutting her off, and raised an eyebrow: “What were you thinking?”

“Or rather…”

Seeing Zhou Miaomiao’s fearful expression, Li Xuewu paused, sat up straight, and said: “Do you even know what you’re saying?!”

“I, I…”

The cabin’s temperature was just right—not cold, not hot—but beads of sweat had formed on Zhou Miaomiao’s forehead.

Her hands, clasped on the table, turned pale and stiff—clearly tightened further by Li Xuewu’s two questions.

“I, I didn’t want to do this…”

Zhou Miaomiao’s voice cracked with tears, sounding wounded: “It was Director Li who told me to…”

“Mmm~ mmm~”

Li Xuewu cut her off again, eyes half-lidded: “You’re actually a smart girl.”

Of course he knew what she was about to say—but he didn’t want to hear it, and he refused to let her explain this.

“Some things don’t need to be clarified, right?”

Zhou Miaomiao didn’t want to serve Li Huai’s interests, didn’t want to be used to probe him—but what did that have to do with him?!

A bait must know its role—and be ready to be sacrificed at any moment.

What has this become now?

You suddenly have a change of heart—do you expect me to panic and forgive you?

Or pretend to be trembling with fear, then bow down obediently to Li Huai?!

What the hell are you doing?!

Don’t you know your own position?!

Which leader doesn’t pay extra attention to subordinates who show ability, competence, and are entrusted with authority and trust?!

That’s organizational concern!

That’s procedural trust!

Do you understand?!

Who has reached Li Huai’s current position without doubting every single subordinate?!

That’s not trust—that’s bullshit!

It’s a game of chess—do you get it?!

Is Li Xuewu afraid of Zhou Miaomiao spying on him?

Of course not!

He’s afraid no one will do this job—or worse, that someone clueless and incompetent will do it!

Zhou Miaomiao’s position is perfect—between personal and professional, with shared recreational space.

Li Huai chose her for this task after careful consideration—otherwise why would he bring her to this villa?

More importantly, she’s a smart girl—cautious, with things she cares about. Li Xuewu needs someone like her between him and Li Huai.

Li Huai thinks the same.

Definitely!

He wants to monitor Li Xuewu’s movements and thoughts—but on the condition of safety.

Safety means this intermediary must not fail, and must not damage the cooperation between him and Li Xuewu.

Doesn’t Li Huai know Li Xuewu already knows what Zhou Miaomiao is doing?

Li Xuewu is the de facto head of the Security Department!

He controls all security and ideological surveillance in the entire factory—what makes you think you’re some undercover agent?!

If Li Huai dares to install wiretaps or surveillance, Li Xuewu will react—estrangement is the least of it; he might even overthrow him.

But this surface-level personal interaction, this level of probing—it’s not spying, it’s a tighter bond, a reminder.

He’s signaling to Li Xuewu that he values and pays attention—and showing trust.

When superior-subordinate work ties become too tight, you either fight side by side—or end up in bed together.

If superior and subordinate are of opposite genders, then fighting side by side easily resolves trust issues—just warm up a little, whoever wins calls the shots.

Like him and that someone.

You think Li Xuewu is after that someone’s looks?

You think he likes Number Seven or the older woman?!

Of course not—this is work!

Get serious—we’re adjusting and calibrating trust here!

What if superior and subordinate are the same gender?

Then it’s complicated—because humans are naturally attracted to the opposite sex and repelled by the same.

Look around the workplace—do women trust women, clinging together constantly at work?

Gossiping and chatting about life? Sure, that’s fun—but put two women on the same project, and they’ll eventually cut all ties.

Especially if there’s only one man on the project—they might even come to blows.

They don’t even have any romantic ties with him—but just because he’s there, they can’t stand each other.

Women are bad enough—but what about men?

To get two grown men to trust each other, unless they’re father and son, they need some shared experience to bind them.

Li Xuewu gave Zhou Miaomiao a good face, tacitly allowed her to join this business negotiation, took her to Yingcheng to play—wasn’t that just to coax her into being his and Li Huai’s messenger and lubricant?

Using a mutually understood personal relationship, through her official role, after surveillance and probing, she feeds back to leadership his image of selflessness, diligence, and zero ambition.

Is that really so hard?

Harder than serving Li Huai?!

Li Xuewu doesn’t believe this girl is pretending.

Is the higher-level probe supposed to be honesty?

Is she trying to play a confessional game with him as the “middleman”?

“I don’t want to do this—I’m so sorry to you!”

Zhou Miaomiao lowered her head, troubled and timid: “Snooping into your privacy like this… I feel like I’m… I’m…”

“No, you’re not.”

Li Xuewu nodded slightly: “So I say—you’re a smart girl. You know what you want, right?”

“You…”

Zhou Miaomiao suddenly lifted her head, startled, looking at Li Xuewu—she understood what he meant.

It was as if he was explaining her relationship with… with Director Li—and in Deputy Director Li’s words, it had become her own initiative.

Can you interpret it like that?

Am I the hero now?

“I know. You know.”

Li Xuewu tapped the table lightly: “Sometimes life is like this—you’ve just taken one step further than others.”

“…”

Zhou Miaomiao’s head buzzed—she still didn’t get how her actions were acceptable to Deputy Director Li.

Just one step further?

That step was incredibly hard—you don’t know how ruthless Director Li is.

Old, crafty, ruthless.

You get it? You understand?

“So…”

Zhou Miaomiao tilted her head slightly, hesitantly probing: “Are you saying I should keep things this way?”

“Mm.”

Li Xuewu slowly blinked and nodded. “Be yourself. Do your own job. Alright?”

“Oh~ oh~”

Zhou Miaomiao nodded, half-understanding, agreeing silently.

But just as Li Xuewu was about to rise, she suddenly gripped his hand and asked anxiously: “If I said something wrong, or…”

“I trust you.”

Li Xuewu looked at her hands resting on his wrist and nodded firmly: “You’re a smart girl.”

“I—I’m kind of dumb~”

Zhou Miaomiao still couldn’t believe what Li Xuewu had just said, her voice tinged with self-deprecation: “I’ve made so many mistakes, taken so many wrong paths.”

“You’re young. I was the same.”

Li Xuewu spoke in the tone of a wolf in disguise, soothing like a lamb: “As long as you know what you’re doing and what you want, the outcome won’t be bad.”

“But I’m afraid~”

Zhou Miaomiao looked at Li Xuewu with tearful eyes: “I don’t even know what my future holds anymore.”

She shook her head slightly, murmuring in a low, defeated tone: “I seem to have rushed too hard to possess all this—but it’s not the life I wanted.”

“I feel like… I’ve lost too much.”

“…”

Li Xuewu stared at the girl across from him, dumbfounded. He just wanted her to stop causing trouble and do what she was supposed to do—was it really that hard?

Isn’t it me who’s been spied on and monitored? Now you’re telling me you’re walking on thin ice and asking if you’ll make it to the other side.

I honestly don’t know what to say anymore!

A young woman took a shortcut no one else dared to take for her job, paid with her youth—so what?

Isn’t it enough that I say I won’t look down on you? Do you want me to write you a poem praising you or an article to clear your name?

Do you think I’m someone else?

“Brother Li?”

Zhou Xiaobai’s voice came from the hallway, heading toward the kitchen.

“Brother Li? Are you over here?”

“I’m in the dining room.”

Li Xuewu replied first, then patted Zhou Miaomiao’s hand, gently pulling his hand free, whispering: “You’re a smart girl. I believe you can handle this, right?”

Zhou Miaomiao looked up at him, speechless. She’d already drunk this chicken soup three times—her stomach was full.

“Brother Li?”

Zhou Xiaobai appeared at the doorway, glancing at the two seated across from each other, pausing slightly before saying: “Luo Yun seems to have broken the TV. Want to go check?”

“So careless?”

Li Xuewu frowned at her, subtly winking his left eye, then stood up and scolded: “Didn’t I tell you to be careful?!”

“I… it wasn’t me…”

Zhou Xiaobai pouted slightly, defending herself: “I told her not to touch it, but she insisted—then it happened…”

“I understand.”

Li Xuewu glanced at Zhou Miaomiao and gestured toward the door: “You don’t need to serve on the ship. Find a place to rest.”

As he walked out, he added: “When we reach Yingcheng, I’ll arrange a car to take you around the city.”

“Thank you, Deputy Director Li!”

Zhou Miaomiao, ever considerate, stood up and thanked him before he stepped out the door.

Li Xuewu turned and smiled at her, then pushed Zhou Xiaobai—who was still peering inside—out the door.

In the hallway, Zhou Xiaobai glanced back at the dining room, pouted at Li Xuewu, and huffed: “I saw everything!”

“What? What did you see?”

Li Xuewu turned back, but saw nothing unusual.

Seeing his reaction, Zhou Xiaobai clung to his arm and whispered: “I saw you holding hands.”

“Nonsense!”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow. “She grabbed me first… wait, no!”

Then it hit him. He glared at her: “Were you eavesdropping outside the whole time?”

“You’re one to talk!”

Zhou Xiaobai pointed at him, scolding: “Didn’t I save you?!”

“Don’t glamorize your eavesdropping!”

Li Xuewu flicked her forehead lightly. “I could’ve handled her just fine. She’s not a spider demon from Pan’s Cave.”

“Pfft~”

Zhou Xiaobai sneered: “You’re even less disciplined than Tang Seng. One touch and you’re frozen.”

“Mm~ mm~”

Li Xuewu pointed at her arm wrapped around his. “You’re practically hanging off me—and yet I’m still walking, aren’t I?”

“That’s different!”

Zhou Xiaobai protested: “You treat me differently than you treat her. She… she’s already done that!”

“Learn from Luo Yun!”

Li Xuewu tapped her forehead in exasperation. “Do you two just talk about this all day?”

“What are you saying about me?!”

Just then, Luo Yun’s head popped out from the bedroom door.

Li Xuewu was utterly done with these two. He deliberately startled her: “We’re talking about how you broke the TV!”

“The TV?”

Luo Yun glanced back into the room, then turned: “I didn’t even touch it. How could I have broken it?”

“Hehe~”

Zhou Xiaobai, seeing Li Xuewu look over, covered her mouth and giggled: “If I hadn’t said that, how would you have come out?”

“So you’re using me as bait again, huh?!”

Luo Yun didn’t understand a word—but she knew Zhou Xiaobai had used her name to cause trouble.

Seeing them about to start again, Li Xuewu stepped between them.

He grabbed one on each side, dragging them toward the living room, scolding: “Are you both three years old? Can’t you act like adults?!”

“Hmph~”

Luo Yun glanced at Zhou Xiaobai, who was tucked under Li Xuewu’s other arm, and muttered: “Someone’s eager to act like an adult—but you’re also…”

Before she could finish, Li Xuewu swatted her other buttock.

“You hit me again!”

Luo Yun pouted, indignant: “That last one already turned red!”

“You didn’t even see it!”

Zhou Xiaobai chimed in from the side: “I didn’t see any red.”

“Shut up!”

Luo Yun stomped ahead, muttering: “You’re in his corner—I’d never believe you!”

Zhou Xiaobai laughed and chased after her, looping her arm through Luo Yun’s. “Did you go to the bathroom and check yourself?”

Before Luo Yun could answer, she blushed and whispered: “I saw it—there’s a mirror there.”

“Oh! How can you say that?!”

“Good, I was just looking for you.”

Zhou Gancheng stood by the bar cabinet, waving as Li Xuewu entered.

“I was just talking with Director Liu and Director Gao about the Yingcheng Shipyard. You’re here just in time—tell us the situation.”

“What situation?”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow, scanning the three, then patted Zhou Xiaobai’s arm, signaling them to go play elsewhere.

“About the basic situation of the Yingcheng Shipyard and its cooperation foundation with Jili Star Company.”

Gao Ya sat cross-legged on a single sofa, tapping the documents on the coffee table: “There’s a written report, but we’d rather hear your plan.”

“My plan? What plan do I have?!”

Li Xuewu smiled, walked behind the bar, casually picked a bottle of liquor—didn’t care about vintage or value—opened it, and poured himself a glass.

He gestured to Zhou Gancheng and the others; seeing they didn’t ask for drinks, he didn’t offer.

He carried his glass out from behind the bar, glanced at Liu Shaozong, and sat beside him on the four-seater sofa.

Liu Shaozong and Gao Ya studied him with subtle suspicion, silent—as if waiting for him to confess.

When Li Xuewu turned his gaze back to Zhou Gancheng, he finally spoke: “I hope you…”

“You hope I?”

Li Xuewu suddenly changed his tone, staring at him sharply: “What exactly do you hope I do?!”

The sudden shift in the living room’s atmosphere startled Zhou Xiaobai and Luo Yun. They stopped gawking at the bar and stood like quail in the corner, watching their Brother Li lose his temper.

Li Xuewu, now ignoring Gao Ya and Liu Shaozong, snapped at Zhou Gancheng: “You’re ordering me around, aren’t you?!”

Comrade Li Xuewu

Liu Shaozong frowned slightly and advised Li Xuewu: “Please pay attention to your attitude—we’re discussing work here.”

“Discussing work, is that it?”

Li Xuewu turned to him and asked: “Have you never studied the confidentiality regulations? Can you discuss work on a foreign vessel?!”

“Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“…”

Liu Shaozong’s face suddenly flushed red, silenced by Li Xuewu’s single retort.

At that moment, Li Xuewu turned to Gao Yaqin and asked: “Director Gao, do you also want to discuss work with me?”

“Don’t get worked up. Let’s talk calmly.”

Gao Yaqin remained calm, gesturing with her hand to soothe them, her tone gentle: “We simply want to understand the situation.”

“Fine, but you need to speak with my superior.”

Li Xuewu regarded her coldly: “Shall I notify Andrew right now? We can turn the ship around and have Director Li report to you.”

“Or”

He asked sharply: “Should I contact the Garrison Command and have our leadership report to you?”

“You… what kind of attitude is that!”

Gao Yaqin frowned: “Are you using someone to pressure us?!”

“Oh? Funny.”

Li Xuewu took a sip of liquor, squinting slightly: “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“You’re ruining your own future!”

Zhou Gancheng said gravely: “Foreign-related work is never as simple or straightforward as you think—especially…”

“Fuck your ass!”

Li Xuewu cursed, raised his glass, and hurled it at Zhou Gancheng’s head.

Zhou Gancheng was still speaking, caught off guard—the glass smashed squarely against his forehead.

Crash!

Liquor splashed across the floor; Zhou Gancheng staggered and slumped against the bar.

“Hey! You—!”

Liu Shaozong stared in shock—he hadn’t expected this man to be so quick to violence.

Gao Yaqin, terrified, scrambled to her feet and stepped back several paces.

Before she could finish her “you,” the foreign affairs officer at the door, seeing his superior struck, reached for his pistol—this move silenced her instantly, afraid the bullet might go astray.

Li Xuewu paid no attention to his motion, scanning the man with a hawk’s gaze and wolf’s alertness, his eyes finally settling on Zhou Gancheng, slumped on the floor by the bar.

“Do you think I’m young and easy to bully—or that someone in your circle is your ancestor?”

“Sss~”

Zhou Gancheng pressed his hand to his forehead—no bleeding, but a large swelling had formed.

He gripped the bar, trying to rise, but the surface was too slippery; he failed several times.

It was the officer, still watching Li Xuewu warily, who bent down and helped him up.

The moment Zhou Gancheng stood, he immediately pressed down the officer’s pistol and waved him off.

Firing a gun on this ship? That’s asking for trouble.

Angering Andrew would spark a foreign affairs incident.

Angering Li Xuewu would bring retaliation.

Either one was beyond the capacity of a young officer to bear. Protecting your superior is well-intentioned, but good intentions shouldn’t cause harm.

“Go. This isn’t your concern.”

Zhou Gancheng nodded to the worried officer, patted his shoulder, signaling he was fine.

The officer glanced cautiously at Li Xuewu once more; seeing the volatile man made no further move, he retreated to the door.

“You’re young, but you’re my ancestor.”

Zhou Gancheng winced in pain, swaying as he shuffled to Gao Yaqin’s former seat and plopped down.

He clutched his forehead, breathing through the pain, and looked at Li Xuewu: “Do I have no dignity or humanity left in front of you?”

“You have the right to retaliate!”

Li Xuewu sat upright, glancing dismissively at the three: “Either strike now, or strike behind my back later—either’s fine.”

“…Old Zhou”

Liu Shaozong glanced at Zhou Gancheng, concerned: “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Zhou Gancheng waved his hand: “I deserved it.”

Seeing the scene under control, Gao Yaqin stepped closer again.

“In the cadre ranks, I’ve never seen anything like this—today’s truly opened my eyes.”

“You’ve seen too little~”

Li Xuewu leaned sideways against the sofa, looking at the three: “A few days ago, I opened an assistant director’s eyes too.”

“Here”

He tapped his own head: “I thought he’d never seen a real spectacle—I gave him three eye-openers.”

“…”

Liu Shaozong and Gao Yaqin exchanged glances, both utterly speechless—what kind of dark joke was this?

Do young cadres really talk like this now?

“Don’t think this is coincidence—there’s a connection you can’t imagine.”

Li Xuewu looked at Zhou Gancheng: “Right, Director Zhou?”

Zhou Gancheng closed his eyes slightly, listening to Li Xuewu—his head began to throb again.

He’d only meant to silence him—or force him to say what he wanted to hear.

Who could’ve expected this young man, with no sense of decorum, to smash a glass and turn the whole room into his stage?

“You might not know Lai Shanchuan—I gave him his eye-openers when you weren’t here.”

Li Xuewu looked at Liu Shaozong and Gao Yaqin: “But if I mention the case from the Dongcheng Discipline Inspection Office, you’ll definitely know it.”

“…”

Liu Shaozong’s brow twitched; he glanced at Zhou Gancheng, then at Gao Yaqin behind him—both their expressions grew heavier.

Especially now that Zhou Gancheng stayed silent—their attitudes shifted slightly.

“No need to go into details—I don’t want to drag anyone’s name into this. Justice speaks for itself.”

Li Xuewu rested his hand on his folded legs, fingers tapping his knee, sneering: “I’ll tell you this: from me, you won’t get a single thing.”

“Deputy Director Li”

Liu Shaozong glanced at Gao Yaqin, then said to Li Xuewu: “Is there some misunderstanding here?”

He gestured toward Gao Yaqin: “We never said we’d interfere in your case. You must have misunderstood.”

“Heh, really?”

Li Xuewu tapped Zhou Gancheng with his finger, sneering: “I bet he told you I’m ideologically flawed, unreliable in foreign cooperation, and a major operational risk.”

Gao Yaqin glanced down at Zhou Gancheng, who kept his head bowed, hand over his forehead, silent—his lips moved slightly, but he held his tongue.

Liu Shaozong fell silent too—everything was clear without words.

“Isn’t that surprising?”

Li Xuewu smirked without humor: “You think his words represent justice and authority? I’m a factory cadre—I’m supposed to submit to your condescension, right?”

After speaking, he stood, raised an eyebrow, and looked at the silent Zhou Gancheng: “Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Let me say a few words.”

As Li Xuewu turned to leave, Zhou Gancheng suddenly spoke: “You’ve blown up, vented your anger—can’t you at least let me speak?”

“So I’ve wronged you?”

Li Xuewu sneered, sized him up, then turned and pointed to Luo Yun: “Clean up the glasses—they’re not yours.”

Then he sat back down, looking at Zhou Gancheng: “Pour me another drink. I’ll listen to you properly.”

Luo Yun glanced at the tense room, quietly walked to the bar, and picked up the broken glass.

Zhou Gancheng exhaled deeply, looked at Li Xuewu, paused, then said: “You’re oversimplifying this…”

“Get to the point.”

Li Xuewu straightened his clothes, leaned back into the sofa, and took the glass Luo Yun handed him: “Don’t lecture me.”

In this room, six departments—all corrupt. Who’s higher? Who’s lower? It’s all out now—he didn’t care about manners or politeness anymore.

Zhou Gancheng nodded slightly: “You’re capable, and you’re skilled at networking—but isolating the Confidentiality Department in this matter is a serious problem.”

He waved his hand: “I’m not lecturing you—I’m stating a fact. Everyone knows what you’ve done. Saying you’re ruining your future isn’t an exaggeration, is it?”

“Continue~”

Li Xuewu sipped the foreign liquor—didn’t know the brand, mediocre taste, but the ambiance was excellent.

Zhou Gancheng watched him enjoy it, then signaled Luo Yun: “Miss, bring me one too—add ice.”

He pointed to the bar: “The ice is in that machine.”

Luo Yun glanced at him, then at Li Xuewu; seeing no objection from Brother Li, she walked back to the bar.

“It seems you didn’t take part—everything was done by Xiang Yun and the branch—but the Confidentiality Department knows.”

Zhou Gancheng nodded at Li Xuewu, then took the wine glass Luo Yun handed him and placed it on his forehead.

The cold sensation stung the swollen blood blister, making him grimace in pain.

“You said you wanted to unite everyone to resist them, but have you considered that the Confidentiality Department only needs to target you alone?”

He pointed to the direction of the ship’s movement and said, “You think you have no problem, that everything is for work, that communicating with foreign merchants is part of your duties—but who believes you?”

“You’re pointing at a deer and calling it a horse, aren’t you?”

Li Xuewu glanced at him, smirked, and said, “Now that you put it that way, I can see some sense in it.”

“You only think I’m the fruit?”

Zhou Gancheng shook his head slightly and said, “No, it’s my warning and interference that’s the cause. If someone else were in your place, what do you think he’d do?”

“I won’t thank you.”

Li Xuewu took a sip of wine and said, “Ever since you first told me about this, I’ve thought you were playing with fire.”

“You’re the one playing with fire!”

Zhou Gancheng removed the wine glass from his forehead, pointed at Li Xuewu, and said, “Me being here at all proves something.”

“You know me, right~?”

Li Xuewu nodded and said, “I understand your meaning—first courtesy, then force.”

As he spoke, he nodded toward the young official by the door and chuckled, “You bring the courtesy; he brings the force.”

“You’re even more stubborn than I imagined.”

Zhou Gancheng took a sip of wine, then pressed his lips together and said, “If you can handle me, and convince them too, what about next time?”

Looking at Li Xuewu, he slowly nodded and said, “You think Director Liu and Director Gao believed my one-sided account, that I tricked them into targeting you?”

“Have you considered that I brought this up on the ship precisely to leave you room to maneuver?”

“Actually…”

Liu Shaozong glanced at Li Xuewu, hesitated, then spoke up: “We don’t know the exact details.”

“But with Old Zhou’s account as a starting point, even if you truly meant to serve the factory, what we’ve seen—or what our work has become—might have already turned corrupt.”

He said to Li Xuewu with serious intent: “You understand what I mean, right?”

“To be precise…”

Gao Yaqin spoke up: “What we’ve received seems false to you, and right now it is false—but when the ship docks, it might become true.”

“We don’t target anyone, wrong anyone, or let anyone use us as a weapon.”

She said to Li Xuewu with solemn seriousness: “But if the facts are laid before us, what do you think we should do?”

“It seems this case has touched someone’s nerve!”

Li Xuewu paid no mind to the crisis they described; instead, he thought of the root issue.

At this moment, he squinted one eye at the three and said, “Is Yu Daru’s eagerness to meddle all because of him?”

“Don’t ask me!”

Zhou Gancheng shook his head, drained his glass, leaned back in his chair, and said, “Without your foreign project, I wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have gotten hit.”

“Of course, you know…”

He spread his hands and said, “Other projects at your factory will still face interference. The first warning to you will always be this relatively mild kind.”

“A wine glass thrown out of nowhere hurts the most, doesn’t it?”

“Hehe~”

Li Xuewu looked at his pained expression and chuckled, “Serves you right. But with that bump on your forehead, you’ve got a good excuse now, right?”

“Mm-hmm, I really appreciate you!”

Zhou Gancheng nodded sincerely, looking at Li Xuewu: “If not for you, I’d be so desperate I’d jump into the sea, wouldn’t I?”

“So~”

Li Xuewu gestured toward Liu Shaozong and Gao Yaqin and asked Zhou Gancheng: “You’ve been completely honest with them—told them you deliberately made things hard for me?”

“I said I don’t know your complicated relationship.”

Liu Shaozong waved Luo Yun over and smiled: “Miss, could you bring me a glass too? No ice.”

“…”

Luo Yun automatically mimicked Li Xuewu’s gesture, squinting—but she did it poorly, her face still full of childishness.

Though she grumbled inwardly that he was treating her like a server, she still walked behind the bar.

“Director Gao, would you like a glass too?”

“…”

This time it was Gao Yaqin’s turn to be speechless. Facing the girl’s slightly emotional question, she glanced at Li Xuewu—her look clearly said: Did you teach her this?

Luo Yun got no reply from her, so she poured only Liu Shaozong a glass.

“I’m your equal, so don’t target me.”

Liu Shaozong waved his hand and said to Li Xuewu: “Director Gao and I are of the same mind: when a problem is laid before us, we follow procedure.”

“As for Old Zhou, who’s causing us trouble…”

He stood up, took the glass Luo Yun handed him, and thanked her.

After receiving her impatient “You’re welcome,” he smiled, patted Zhou Gancheng’s shoulder, and said, “Someone will settle this account with us when we get back.”

“Director Gao, please sit on the sofa.”

He offered his seat to Gao Yaqin, who had been standing, and gestured toward Li Xuewu with a smile: “Talk more with Deputy Director Li—you’ll learn something.”

“You really know how to talk, don’t you~?”

Gao Yaqin glanced at him, then sat in his former seat, and looked at Li Xuewu: “You won’t throw a wine glass at me, will you?”

“I’ll drink to you!”

Li Xuewu smiled faintly, raised his glass, then downed it in one gulp.

Zhou Xiaobai didn’t wait to be asked; she walked over obediently to refill his glass.

“Enough. Drink too much and you’ll get drunk and act foolish.”

Li Xuewu smiled and declined Zhou Xiaobai, but handed her his glass, gesturing for her to return it to the bar.

“From the current situation, I don’t know whose side this is on—it seems they don’t plan to come at me with brute force right away.”

He pointed at Zhou Gancheng: “They just wanted you to warn me—if I don’t cooperate, then create trouble for me at the Yingcheng Shipyard, right?”

Before Zhou Gancheng could answer, he leaned back on the sofa, muttering to himself: “Ah~ They really think highly of me. I just wonder who this person is.”

“He probably didn’t anticipate—or maybe he intended it—that your warning was meant for me, but the trouble was staged on the ship.”

“That means, if you really wrecked our factory’s project in Yingcheng—with Director Gao and Director Liu as witnesses—I’d become the factory’s traitor.”

“And then?”

Li Xuewu tilted his head toward Zhou Gancheng and smiled: “The leadership thinks I’m a problem; the workers think I’ve brought bad influence—I’m a problematic cadre.”

“Then next, they’ll send someone from the Third Guard Regiment to sabotage me, or just kick me out outright—so he can use me as a chicken to scare the monkeys in Discipline and Inspection and the branch.”

“Ah~ It’s all chained together~”

Li Xuewu sat upright, patted his knees, and said: “This person thought everything through so carefully—if you can’t solve the problem, solve the person who caused it. What a brilliant idea!”

“So what’s your plan?”

Zhou Gancheng raised an eyebrow, pulled out a handkerchief, wrapped the ice cubes from his glass, and pressed them to his forehead.

“If you say everything’s negotiable, then I’ve done my part and can retire. When you return to Beijing, someone will come to visit you.”

“What if I don’t want to negotiate?”

Li Xuewu narrowed his eyes and asked: “Does that mean I won’t even be allowed to return to Beijing?”

“No, I don’t have that power.”

Zhou Gancheng slowly nodded: “My efforts have been seen through by you, and I’ve been hit—so I can leave unscathed. Your case still needs to be resolved in Beijing.”

“Of course, how it’s resolved, who resolves it, when it’s resolved—you don’t know, and I don’t know either.”

“Don’t mock me!”

He pointed at Li Xuewu: “Everything I’ve done here wasn’t what I wanted—but it was based on solid grounds!”

“I believe that.”

Li Xuewu pressed his lips together and nodded: “If you say you truly don’t know who’s behind it, I believe you.”

“Thank you. I really don’t know.”

Zhou Gancheng sighed: “I never meant to make things hard for you. But the situation has brought us here—the choice is yours.”

“Don’t sound so pitiful.”

Li Xuewu patted the armrest of the sofa and smiled, gesturing toward Zhou Xiaobai, who stood behind the bar like a dumb deer, neck stretched to watch the spectacle: “Do you know who her father is?”

“!!!”

Zhou Xiaobai froze suddenly, then looked at Li Xuewu in confusion—how did the conversation suddenly turn to her?

Liu Shaozong and the other two also looked at Zhou Xiaobai, then turned their eyes to Li Xuewu.

Li Xuewu pressed his lips together, nodded, and said firmly to Zhou Gancheng: “You should be grateful you pulled this stunt early—if you’d tried to ruin me in Yingcheng with some foreign project mess, everyone would have died.”