Chapter Twenty-Four: Setting Out for the Next Destination

Li Weiwei sat in her office, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the endless stream of people below, yet her mind lingered on the memories of her journey to Qingdong. That trip felt like a dream to her—a dream in which she played the role of a heroine, punishing evil and upholding justice. Her skills were unmatched, her courage invincible; she not only effortlessly tracked the villains' every move but also delivered a fatal blow at the last moment, all while the villains remained oblivious. Once the dust settled, she quietly departed, hiding her achievements and reputation.

This was an experience Li Weiwei had never known before. Though it had been half a month since her return from Qingdong to Ming City, she was still immersed in the joy of this alternate life. She felt this was the life she truly desired—unrestrained, righteous, a life befitting the "Black Widow."

She believed that joining the White Tiger Team was the best decision she had ever made. The team was led by Captain Hai, upright and wise; Liu, robust in body and mind but as gentle as a monk; Zhang Mufeng, outwardly innocent yet deeply cunning; Li Mengyang, calm and perceptive; Wen Yuxin, a master of languages and transformation; and her old friend Zhao Zhijie, honest and unassuming yet remarkably skilled.

Every member brought her immense joy. Working alongside them was an incredibly interesting endeavor, truly as Zhao Zhijie had said: it felt like the Justice League, with herself as one of the superheroes. No, not the Justice League, but the White Tiger Team—a hero alliance uniquely their own.

As Li Weiwei thought about this, an involuntary smile appeared on her lips. Outside the office, Secretary Zhou saw Li Weiwei’s radiant smile and felt genuinely happy for her. Ever since Li Weiwei returned from Qingdong, she would recount the events of those days, sharing her experiences and observations. To Secretary Zhou, it was as if she were listening to a novel—a superhero story at that.

Secretary Zhou suspected Li Weiwei might have exaggerated, but seeing her so earnest and confident, it all seemed real enough. It was a world Zhou had never encountered, but for someone seasoned in the business world, such events were not impossible. After all, real life was different from the fairy tale existence Li Weiwei had known. Still, Zhou found it hard to believe that this pure and adorable Li Weiwei could become a heroic figure, capable of bringing down villains with unrivaled courage.

Watching Li Weiwei’s smile, Secretary Zhou thought this was the way she ought to be. Even without witnessing firsthand what Li Weiwei had experienced, Zhou was sincerely happy for her, believing that Li Weiwei had finally found companions she liked and work she enjoyed.

Though unsure how long she could help Li Weiwei keep her secrets or how long Li Weiwei could remain free, Secretary Zhou rejoiced for her in this moment.

Li Weiwei continued to revel in her memories—the experience was truly unforgettable. Of course, there were regrets. The so-called expert group, led by "Professor Song" and his people, had not been apprehended.

Although Sun Zhengtao’s computer had been infected with a Trojan by Li Weiwei, allowing them to track "Professor Song" whenever he contacted Sun Zhengtao, due to Lu Xiaoyu’s premature actions, the White Tiger Team had to move ahead of schedule before "Professor Song" reached out again. At the scene of Sun Zhengtao’s arrest, Zhao Zhijie discovered that the technical team’s office was equipped with a pinhole camera.

According to Sun Zhengtao, this camera was controlled by "Professor Song," who never contacted him again, indicating that "Professor Song" had slipped away. This was Li Weiwei’s greatest regret from her Qingdong mission. In such a vast world, would she ever encounter "Professor Song" again? She did not know, but she vowed that if given another chance, she would bring him to justice.

During these days, Zhang Mufeng had not been idle. After returning from Qingdong—although Captain Hai did not involve him in interrogations due to his previous infiltration of the enemy—he became deeply interested in Wen Yuxin. The art of disguise fascinated not only Li Weiwei but also Zhang Mufeng, especially after Wen Yuxin’s outstanding performance in Qingdong.

With time to spare, Zhang Mufeng attended Wen Yuxin’s training sessions whenever he could, as did Li Weiwei. After finishing their follow-up work, Zhao Zhijie and Li Mengyang joined in. Eventually, Liu Zhiyang and Captain Hai came as well, turning Wen Yuxin’s lessons into a collective training for the White Tiger Team, held every evening.

Qiu Zhiyong, upon hearing about Wen Yuxin’s remarkable skills, came to observe. Witnessing Wen’s expertise firsthand left him astonished. He sighed with relief that Wen Yuxin was part of the White Tiger Team; if she were a criminal, escaping justice would be effortless—she would be a formidable adversary.

Looking at the White Tiger Team, Qiu Zhiyong felt somewhat gratified. He knew he had truly assembled a powerful group. With this team, he believed the fight against cybercrime in Mingzhou would be transformed. Their astounding strength during this first operation alone was enough to earn them respect.

Qiu Zhiyong looked at his two younger colleagues, feeling proud. These two had fulfilled their mission without disgrace, tackling an unfamiliar form of crime with near perfection. The operation had also bonded the team, allowing each member’s strengths to shine—a source of Qiu Zhiyong’s greatest joy.

After the training, Qiu Zhiyong pulled Captain Hai and Liu Zhiyang aside, and they sat once more on the benches of Ming City University’s athletic field.

Qiu Zhiyong smiled as he looked at his two younger colleagues. “How did this mission feel? Tell me about it!”

“It was exhilarating!” Liu Zhiyang replied eagerly. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to be right in the thick of things. The operation felt almost surreal, nothing like traditional investigations. It was full of clever ideas and unexpected moves. I felt less like I was working a case, more like acting in a movie.”

“From identifying Zhou Donghai out of nowhere, to Hai’s cunning trick to get him to confess, Zhang Mufeng’s undercover intelligence work, Li Weiwei’s seamless surveillance, Zhao Zhijie’s remote evidence collection, Wen Yuxin and Li Mengyang’s skillful collaboration with Zhang Mufeng, turning someone who didn’t even speak the language into a convincing local—it’s beyond what any film would dare depict!”

“The highlight was Doctor Wen’s art of disguise, truly ingenious and inscrutable, impossible to detect. Captain Hai’s supposed sharp eyes were fooled like a child! Those guys even tried to tail us, but their own base was taken down without their knowing. Amazing! You didn’t just have him form a special team—you had him assemble a squad of superheroes!”

Qiu Zhiyong laughed heartily at Liu Zhiyang’s words, thinking his colleague’s talent would be wasted if he didn’t pursue comedic storytelling. Looking at Captain Hai, he asked, “Did Doctor Wen’s disguise fool you, too?”

Captain Hai smiled sheepishly. “Doctor Wen’s skills are truly extraordinary. Even you, a seasoned veteran, were stunned moments ago. It’s only natural I was fooled. She’s a rare talent.”

Qiu Zhiyong nodded. “That’s true—she is indeed a rare talent, as are all the members of your team. So many gifted people should not have their abilities wasted. The two of you bear heavy responsibilities—not only must you manage this team, you must also unleash its full potential.”

He paused and continued, “Cybercrime is rampant beyond our imagination, and the difficulty of investigating these cases is unprecedented. This is a great test for us, but also an opportunity. Whether we can achieve greatness in this new era depends on you.”

“The old approach of relying on sheer numbers won’t work anymore. Now, talent is what matters. Cherish your people, let them shine, and use their strength to change the world and create the future!”

Liu Zhiyang looked at Qiu Zhiyong, somewhat dejected. “Talking with you feels like attending a conference—always lofty and profound! Honestly, I didn’t feel very useful this time. Compared to the others, I was just the guy delivering lunchboxes. Other than managing everyone’s meals, I didn’t do much—just watched and learned. As for creating a new era, I don’t think I can help much!”

Qiu Zhiyong smiled at Liu Zhiyang. Usually so critical and demanding, it was a novelty to see him doubt his own abilities.

Captain Hai laughed. “How can you say you’re useless? Without your expertise in law, the case wouldn’t have gone so smoothly. Besides, delivering lunchboxes is important, too. Without proper logistics, how could our team perform so well?”

Qiu Zhiyong laughed again, addressing Liu Zhiyang, “Captain Hai is right. You’re an indispensable part of this team. Without your participation in evidence review, case handling would be much more troublesome. Your coordination and logistical efforts are also commendable.”

Liu Zhiyang forced a smile. “You two can stop your duet now. Compared to what the others did, my contributions are insignificant. Your praise feels more like sarcasm!”

Captain Hai spoke seriously. “We’re not making fun of you. You truly played an irreplaceable role. Also, as a judo expert, your presence ensures the team’s safety. This time, there was no need for action, but next time could be different—so your importance speaks for itself.”

Liu Zhiyang nodded. “When you put it that way, I actually feel useful. Next time, I hope to meet a few people looking for trouble so I can put my skills to good use!”

Qiu Zhiyong laughed again, feeling that today was his happiest day in a long time. Being with these young people made him feel youthful again. For a moment, he was transported back to the days when he was devoted to serving his country and fighting evil, seeing once more his younger, earnest self.

He glanced at Captain Hai, who was deep in thought. Qiu Zhiyong, sensing his colleague’s mind, didn’t press, instead asked lightly, “What are you thinking about? Any plans for the next step?”

Captain Hai looked up at Qiu Zhiyong, then at Liu Zhiyang, and said slowly, “Actually, this case can’t be considered a complete success. On the contrary, it’s only just beginning.”

Qiu Zhiyong said, “Oh? Go on.”

Captain Hai continued, “‘Li Mengyao’ would not have caused Fengfeng’s death had she merely encouraged Huang Guan to buy game items. But she led Fengfeng into online loans. That sum was significant for him. I calculated the interest—it wasn’t usurious, but in line with legal standards. Yet, examining Guan’s bank records, I found something amiss. Not only was the loan amount difficult for Guan to repay, but the actual sum received didn’t match the contract—there was never twenty thousand.”

Qiu Zhiyong felt a pang when Captain Hai mentioned Guan’s name.

Seeing his discomfort, Captain Hai paused, but Qiu Zhiyong urged him to continue. Captain Hai went on, “When interrogating Zhou Donghai, I asked about this. He explained it was another scam. The reason Guan, a student, could borrow so much was that the loan company and Zhou Donghai were in cahoots. Not just twenty thousand—even a hundred thousand, a million, would be approved, because they calculated the money would go to Zhou Donghai, who would then return it to the company. The borrower would pay high interest, which they split as profit. This was their way of draining the victims dry.”

Qiu Zhiyong gasped, sighing, “Who would have thought such a small fraud case hid such a vast criminal organization, with so many schemes!”

Captain Hai replied, “Indeed. Who could imagine that crime could become an industrial chain?”

Qiu Zhiyong said, “That’s why your responsibilities are even greater!”

He addressed his two younger colleagues, “Our country is strong—a powerful nation fears no external threats. We have the strength to resist them. Only internal decay can destroy a strong nation. If criminals become powerful and their actions cause the people to suffer, it will be catastrophic.”

He continued, “We possess the most advanced military weapons, but those cannot be used domestically. To combat crime, we need a strong police force. Against traditional crime, we are superior. Against cybercrime—can we truly prevail?”

Then his tone shifted, “This battle cannot be lost. If we lose, we are the sinners of history, betrayers of our country. You must become stronger, the White Tiger Team must become stronger. Strike hard against crime, whether it’s near or far. Don’t let them continue to harm the people with impunity!”

On the way home, Captain Hai could not forget Qiu Zhiyong’s words. He looked up at the sky, where only a crescent moon illuminated the darkness. Captain Hai knew his path forward would be arduous, but he was also certain it was his responsibility—the only way to reach the light.

Under the moonlight, Captain Hai walked with firm steps into the night.