Rebirth of Corrupt Officials

“If Zhang Xiaoli does indeed make accusations, regardless of others’ views at the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection, I will petition to defend you as innocent. After all, you’re a covert asset for the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection. We bear significant responsibility for your situation. We can’t shirk it.”

Lian Cheng was a profoundly responsible individual.

At Lian Cheng’s words, Jiang Xiaochuan buried his face in his hands, feeling a deep sense of solitude.

The light fell on his hunched back, casting thin shadows. The weather had turned chilly, and he wore only a light sweater, no longer exuding the serious and unapproachable air of his suited days.

A suit was indeed a man’s weapon.

Lian Cheng suddenly said: “Go and add some clothes.”

Jiang Xiaochuan lifted his head and shook it.

“No matter how cold the weather gets, it’s not as cold as my heart.”

In a tone laced with cruelty and indifference, he conveyed his grim assessment to Lian Cheng, “If you petition your superiors to defend my innocence, or reveal the confidential documents I’ve signed, the outcome will only disappoint you. Director Lian, spare yourself this futile effort. You’ll find that many things aren’t as clean as you imagine.”

“I understand what you’re saying. But what if I apply despite knowing the likely outcome?” Lian Cheng suddenly smiled.

He hadn’t broached the topic of the file with Jiang Xiaochuan yet.

He dared not now, unsure if the walls had ears. If someone knew the file remained with Jiang Xiaochuan, there was a significant risk making him the next Qian Qiming.

Having witnessed Qian Qiming’s “accident” firsthand, how could Lian Cheng allow Jiang Xiaochuan to encounter similar problems under his watch?

No matter what happens, he couldn’t afford to lose this asset.

In Beijing, he had already begun using his connections to investigate, anticipating results soon.

The immediate challenge was how to address Jiang Xiaochuan’s predicament.

Though he had promised to seek Jiang Xiaochuan’s innocence, he would only do so if Zhang Xiaoli contested. Revealing his stance prematurely was out of the question; he had to stand unequivocally by Jiang Xiaochuan.

Hearing this, Jiang Xiaochuan lowered his gaze, pondered briefly, then looked up again. “What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” Lian Cheng replied, lifting his tea and changing the subject. “Mayor Jiang, what if you don’t provide any useful information? Your detention period is nearing its end.”

Jiang Xiaochuan remained outwardly calm, flipping copper coin bracelet between his fingers. “When the detention period ends, can I just walk out?”

“Yes, you can, like Dai Xu,” Lian Cheng smiled, “But it’s quite frustrating for this Lian.”

He meant Jiang Xiaochuan hadn’t disclosed anything valuable.

Yet thereafter, Lian Cheng barely posed substantive questions, instead circling old, worn-out doubts as if at a loss for words. Jiang Xiaochuan sensed an underlying motive.

Little headway had been made in the interrogation. The evidence against Jiang Xiaochuan was insufficient to convict him outright. Without new evidence, the case could only conclude peacefully or be shelved.

From Lian Cheng’s recent remarks, it seemed he knew something critical but was presently unable to resolve it, forced to let it lay down for now.

The crux of the matter laid with the file.

But Lian Cheng still hesitated to ask outright if his suspicions were correct. The file remained in Jiang Xiaochuan’s possession. If the actual file was still with Jiang Xiaochuan, then the one handed over for testing could be a forgery. Would someone notice it?

Everything was uncertain.

“Once I’m released, maybe you won’t have a chance to catch me again,” Jiang Xiaochuan remarked, his words carrying a dual meaning he was acutely aware of—one suggesting he might escape legal repercussions, the other hinting at potential danger awaiting him outside.

Lian Cheng understood the implication but met Jiang Xiaochuan’s gaze calmly and firmly stated, “No.”

He meant it.

Jiang Xiaochuan was his chosen chess piece, and Lian Cheng felt obligated to safeguard his safety.

Silence settled between them.

Lian Cheng continued, “Yue Qingci has returned from Tibet. Is everything settled there?”

Jiang Xiaochuan was taken aback. Why was Lian Cheng suddenly bringing this up?

“I heard you two are quite close,” Lian Cheng added with a smile but said nothing more.

Their friendship ran deep. Was there an insinuation about Jiang Xiaochuan’s relationship with Yue Qingci?

In this life, Jiang Xiaochuan felt like a passing stranger.

“It’s time for you to begin the procedures to leave,” Lian Cheng finally declared. He took out a box of cigarettes, extracted one, and lit it leisurely. Catching Jiang Xiaochuan’s gaze, he raised his lips and spoke casually, “Do you think someone like me isn’t suited for cigarettes?”

The only time Jiang Xiaochuan had seen Lian Cheng smoke was at the aftermath of the Qian Qiming incident, cigarette in hand amid the blood, ashes dropping to the ground—a scene etched in Jiang Xiaochuan’s memory.

He had once thought smoking didn’t suit Lian Cheng.

But now, as Lian Cheng took a drag, lowered his eyes, and spoke softly, “Only on special occasions do I smoke…”

Was this moment, then, a significant one for him? A special occasion?

Jiang Xiaochuan studied him for a long moment, then removed the copper coin bracelet from his wrist and slid it across the table. “I’ll leave this ‘lucky charm’ for Director Lian to play with.”

Lian Cheng’s gaze lingered on the copper coin bracelet briefly before returning to Jiang Xiaochuan’s face.

Unfortunately, Jiang Xiaochuan didn’t show any unnecessary expression. He just stood up and walked out the door.

Lian Cheng began to think: Was he right or wrong if he deliberately let Jiang Xiaochuan go?