Chapter Thirty-One: Turning the Tables

Sitting on the boat bound for Tang Island, Li Weiwei felt utterly at ease, the cool sea breeze brushing past her. She recalled the last time she’d visited Tang Island—it was shortly after she’d started university. Back then, a few girls from the north, newly arrived in Tanghua, were filled with longing for the sea. At the first opportunity, they dragged Li Weiwei along to Tang Island to see the ocean. Li Weiwei, having just moved from Mingzhou to Tanghua, finally free from her family’s restraints, could indulge in her newfound liberty. Naturally, she felt an infinite affection for this vast, open sea, which to her symbolized freedom itself. Even after so many years, these waters still intoxicated her—this was her paradise of liberty.

Away from the hotel, she was finally free from surveillance and eavesdropping. Li Weiwei could now voice her thoughts boldly and without reservation. She shouted into the blue expanse, called Wen Yuxin to run with her around the boat, her heart brimming with the joy of regained freedom. All her worries were cast aside.

At the bow, Hai Feng, Liu Zhiyang, and Li Mengyang sat watching Li Weiwei dragging Wen Yuxin to and fro, chattering incessantly like an unbridled colt. Their spirits, too, were uplifted by her happiness, and they couldn’t help but laugh.

Liu Zhiyang turned to Hai Feng with a grin. “Li Weiwei is finally liberated. She’s the one who loves freedom most, yet even her sleep was under surveillance—no wonder she was so pent up!”

Then Liu Zhiyang changed the subject. “Say, Hai Feng, how do you always get caught up in the strangest things? Is it you who seeks out trouble, or does trouble seek you? As soon as Director Qiu asked me to help you, I sensed it wouldn’t be anything good. But this is my first time dealing with being watched like this.”

“More than a dozen pinhole cameras in one room—the director of Tangping Sub-bureau really spared no expense. I bet it’s all for you that we’re given this ‘special treatment.’ Don’t you think he’s got a voyeuristic streak? Even the bathroom’s monitored. In this Tanghua heat, we can’t even take a shower. That’s truly malicious!”

“Isn’t there a saying—brothers in arms, father and son go to war together? But these two brothers seem to fit the bill for ‘partners in crime.’ The older one makes you uncomfortable, the younger one’s not to be outdone—real brothers in every sense!”

“I never liked his older brother back in Mingcheng—two-faced, all show and no substance, with a head full of schemes. He looks respectable but is less useful than a decorative cushion—at least cushions don’t disgust you. He’s a hypocrite, completely incompetent at his job, and dragged his team down with him. I have no idea how he made it to bureau chief.”

“This Xu Dong, at least, is more authentic than his brother—not pretending at all, just an outright villain. To protect a suspect, he’d even spy on his own colleagues, including women. He might not have the revolutionary spirit to the end, but he’s thorough in his wickedness.”

“If this were wartime, he’d be the kind of traitor infiltrating our party—should be executed on the spot. I say we should inform Li Xian and let Chief Qiao know. Let’s see if Xu Dong can still strut around then. Doesn’t he like eating in walled compounds? Prisons have high walls, too, and armed guards to boot. How grand! The perfect place for him!”

Li Mengyang couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. He had to admire Liu Zhiyang—not just for his eloquence, but for his stamina. After all that talking, he wasn’t even out of breath. Truly a rare talent.

Hai Feng said to Liu Zhiyang, “If Li Xian finds out, our big fish will be alerted. It’s no longer just about Shi Heng or Cao Jixiang—Qian Zhen likely has issues too. Before we have it all clear, we’d better not startle them.”

Liu Zhiyang asked, “So what do we do? Let them keep watching? We can’t even stay in our rooms. To talk, we have to sneak out. And they won’t cooperate with any arrests. We don’t even know where Shi Heng is. What’s the point in staying here?”

“In my opinion, we should just take the people and evidence back to Mingcheng. As for Cao Jixiang, with what we have, we can’t pin a crime on him—it’s just a normal loan. If you insist on taking him, it’d have to be for contract fraud.”

He paused, then added, “Actually, I can handle that! Let’s settle it—let’s take the people back, no need to keep suffering here. If not for yourself, think of the two ladies—who can stand being watched even while sleeping?”

Hai Feng shook his head. “It’s not time to leave yet. It looks like Shi Heng and Cao Jixiang are small fry—we’re after the real big fish. Leaving before the investigation’s complete would be a loss.”

He continued, “At least they’re not tailing us. Once we’re out of the hotel, we’re free—just stay out of their surveillance zones.”

Liu Zhiyang interjected, “But if we can’t go to Jixiang Lending or Qian Group, what’s left to investigate—Tanghua’s mountains and waters? And since we don’t know where Shi Heng is, there’s little we can do here. Don’t tell me you just want a government-funded vacation in Tanghua—I’d rather go home and see my daughter!”

“Besides, it’s better to coordinate with the prosecutors and courts early. This kind of case is hard to prosecute, there’s no precedent, and no one wants to be the first to try. There’ll be a heated debate when we get back. I’d rather prepare than waste time sightseeing here. Otherwise, if we arrest them only to release them, we’d be a laughingstock!”

Hai Feng smiled. “Who says we don’t know where Shi Heng is? Li Weiwei already found his location, thanks to Cao Jixiang—he’s been a big help! We’re not barred from Jixiang Lending or Qian Group, we just can’t go in as ourselves. With Wen Yuxin, Li Mengyang, and Zhang Mufeng, we can go wherever we want and gather whatever intelligence we need.”

Liu Zhiyang suddenly understood. “So, you’re going to play another round of ‘sleight of hand.’ No wonder you have that nickname—the bane of all. Xu Dong, Qian Zhen, and their gang’s good days are numbered, now that they’ve crossed you! From tomorrow, I’ll work with Zhao Zhijie on trace analysis, swap Zhang Mufeng back, and let you play your ‘man of a thousand faces!’”

For the next month, every report Xu Dong received said only that Hai Feng and his team had gone out sightseeing, shared their hotel reflections, and detailed their plans for the next day. Eventually, Xu Dong stopped bothering to listen—he concluded that this group of country bumpkins was just using work as an excuse for a vacation.

When Xu Dong asked his brother Xu Wei about Hai Feng, Xu Wei always said Hai Feng was a good comrade—upright, brave, resourceful, never underhanded—a model party member.

But Xu Dong could read between the lines: his brother meant Hai Feng was unfeeling and rigid. Since Hai Feng wasn’t causing him trouble, Xu Dong decided to leave him alone and let him have his fun. Over time, though, Hai Feng’s behavior made Xu Dong question his brother’s assessment. Hai Feng seemed just like him—no more virtuous, just awaiting his chance to use public resources for personal pleasure, taking two juniors along for show while he enjoyed himself.

When Qian Zhen asked about Hai Feng, Xu Dong always reassured him that everything was under control. At first, Qian Zhen was uneasy—after all, Hai Feng had swept up Shi Heng’s finance company, and only Shi Heng himself had escaped. Although Shi Heng had no direct ties to him, Qian Zhen didn’t want to take risks—not for himself or his brother. He was ready to sacrifice Cao Jixiang, let him serve a couple of years in prison, as a contingency for days like this. Eventually, though, he stopped paying attention to Hai Feng, seeing that all he did was play, leaving the real work to two subordinates—hardly worth worrying about.

Meanwhile, Zhang Mufeng was busier than ever, playing roles from programmer uncle to office worker, cleaning lady, courier, and small-time thug. He’d impersonated people from Tanghua, Yanbei, Songhai, and Jinghua.

Far from feeling tired, Zhang Mufeng was exhilarated—each day a new life. When he could use Mandarin, he investigated according to his own ideas; when local dialects were needed, Wen Yuxin, Li Mengyang, and Hai Feng supported him. Hai Feng’s incisiveness and Li Mengyang’s professionalism impressed him anew—their intelligence-gathering skills were unique yet equally excellent. These were skills Zhang Mufeng aspired to master.

Wen Yuxin’s ever-changing makeup and fluent local dialects amazed him most of all. For the first time, Zhang Mufeng felt the joy of team collaboration, the fun and excitement of intelligence work. He was genuinely glad for the choice he’d made.

He thought his judgment had been right—following Hai Feng was indeed fascinating. His work now was less about duty and more about relishing these multifaceted lives and the pleasures of teamwork.

As for Zhao Zhijie, he’d been in the Tanghua Bureau’s lab working with data. At first, people tried to see what he was doing, but before they could enter, they’d be deterred by the burly and intimidating Liu Zhiyang, or blocked at the door by Li Xian. Eventually, no one tried to disturb him anymore.

This gave Zhao Zhijie the quiet focus he needed. He greatly admired Tanghua’s trace analysis lab—top-notch equipment, satisfying to use and yielding excellent results. By contrast, the Mingtan branch’s tools were sorely outdated. Since Director Xu took office, no new equipment had been purchased; the gear was old and inefficient, but no one seemed to care. Only Zhao Zhijie worried as he watched the gap between his team and their peers widen.

Liu Zhiyang, meanwhile, diligently performed his duty as a guard—a silver-tongued “big bear” blocking the door, ensuring no one dared approach. No one could out-argue Liu Zhiyang, and trying to use force would be foolish—so no one risked it.

Watching Zhao Zhijie bury himself in work each day, Liu Zhiyang’s respect for him grew. In his eyes, Zhao Zhijie wasn’t one to show off or talk much, utterly unlike Zhang Mufeng.

If Zhang Mufeng was like champagne—captivating, drawing everyone in from first glance—then Zhao Zhijie was like a vat of aged wine, silent, unassuming, whose depth and richness could only be appreciated over time.

Sadly, people like Zhao Zhijie, who didn’t promote themselves, needed a discerning mentor—and such mentors were rare, especially in Mingcheng. There, diligent people had little chance to stand out, especially with Xu Wei as the branch chief.

Liu Zhiyang felt a sense of injustice on Zhao Zhijie’s behalf, and a growing admiration for Hai Feng, who had an eye for talent and gave people like Zhao Zhijie the chance to realize their potential—a vision Liu Zhiyang himself lacked.

A month later, Xu Dong was surprised to receive a call from Li Xian—Hai Feng’s group was returning to Mingzhou and wanted to host a farewell dinner to thank the Tangping Sub-bureau for its cooperation. Though Xu Dong had no fondness for Hai Feng, he would never pass up an invitation to eat and drink, especially when it also meant keeping up appearances for Li Xian—a win-win that he couldn’t refuse.

The venue was chosen by Li Xian—a humble country house near Tang Island, far less grand than Xu Dong’s usual haunts but peaceful and refined, with a view over Tang Island itself. “A taste of the common folk’s life—a bit of outreach,” Xu Dong mused on the way.

When Xu Dong and his group arrived, Li Xian and Hai Feng were already waiting at the door. They greeted Xu Dong warmly, and he shook hands cordially. Hai Feng’s departure alone made Xu Dong genuinely happy, a satisfaction clearly written on his face.

There were few attendees, as Li Xian had told Xu Dong beforehand—just Li Xian, Liu Zhiyang, and Hai Feng. Xu Dong brought only Cao Qin and Shi Biao. The six took their seats at the table, the idyllic setting lending a unique charm to their gathering.

Xu Dong said to Hai Feng, “Sorry, I’ve been so busy these days, I haven’t been able to entertain you properly. Has the case been progressing well?”

Hai Feng smiled, “You’re too kind—you’ve already helped us immensely. Without your cooperation, we couldn’t have taken down Shi Heng’s finance company in one go.”

Xu Dong chuckled, “Oh, we just did a bit of legwork, nothing much. Still, something slipped through—the crafty Shi Heng got away! Any news on him?”

Hai Feng shook his head. “Nothing yet—looks like we’ll have to keep searching.”

Xu Dong smiled, “That’s how it goes. Shi Heng is sly, but the law’s net is wide—he’ll be caught eventually, so don’t worry too much.”

Hai Feng replied, “Indeed, haste makes waste. As long as the evidence is solid, no matter how long it takes, he’ll have to face justice.”

Xu Dong continued, “Yes, he will be brought in. You’ve really worked hard this time—spending a month here over such a small debt collection company. Mingzhou must have fewer cases—more officers to spare. Here, we’re overwhelmed, always busy with bigger cases, three or four gangs in a month. We simply can’t afford to pour resources into a small company—it's not economically viable!”

Hai Feng said, “Someone has to do the hard cases. If we only handle the easy ones, the tough cases will grow out of control—just as a thousand-mile dike can be destroyed by an ant hole.”

“And not everything can be measured in economic terms. If that were the case, there’d be no need for criminal law—after all, the most profitable ways are all written there. Without the law, making money would be even easier, wouldn’t it?”

Xu Dong laughed, “Insightful—Hai Qingtian is indeed unique. Come, let’s drink. No more talk of work—let’s toast you Mingzhou brothers. If you return to Tanghua, I’ll be your guide, and we’ll have a great time!”

Hai Feng raised his glass. “You’re too generous—Tanghua is a wonderful place, and we’ll surely return. You’re welcome to visit Mingzhou as well.”

The conversation flowed with laughter and toasts. Xu Dong mused that the famed Hai Feng was less than he appeared—clearly on a sightseeing holiday while still talking so self-righteously. Perhaps that was just the Mingzhou way. For once, Xu Dong felt satisfied with his own conduct—he might not be a paragon, but at least he was genuine, unlike these two-faced Mingzhou men, doing dirty work while pretending to be virtuous. Truly laughable.

The banquet lasted late into the night. Xu Dong was in high spirits—the affair with Qian was settled, the “plague god” was leaving, and all was well; he couldn’t help but drink more. Seeing Hai Feng and his colleagues just as happy, Xu Dong was certain: they’d played for a month on public funds, now they’d go home, close the case, and take the credit. No wonder they were cheerful.

But tonight, Hai Feng and Liu Zhiyang seemed unusually capable drinkers. At previous dinners, they’d always been the first to fall, but now, as Cao Qin and Shi Biao were already slumped over the table, the two showed no signs of inebriation. Xu Dong silently cursed his own subordinates for their weakness. As he kept drinking, his own vision began to blur.

Throwing an arm around Hai Feng’s shoulder, Xu Dong slurred, “Brother, I’m drunk tonight and want to speak from the heart. What I have to say may not be pleasant, but it’s all sincere.”

Hai Feng smiled, “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

Xu Dong said, “I’m a straightforward person, and I think you are too. But don’t chase after empty fame—it’s useless. What good are those accolades? You’ll just offend your colleagues and land your bosses in jail—nothing good comes of it.”

“Yes, the people praise you, but what’s the use? Can you eat it or drink it? No! It’s better to have real money—your family can live well. Don’t be like my brother, putting on airs all day. Isn’t it tiring?”

He glanced at Hai Feng, then continued, “Had a good time in Tanghua? The scenery’s lovely, isn’t it? That’s what I agree with—public money should be spent. Why save it? For the next generation? Treat yourself well and be happy. I’ve been too busy lately, or I’d have shown you around. You don’t know—the best sights in Tanghua aren’t by day, but at night. The night is when beauty truly shines!”

Xu Dong’s eyes grew even more unfocused as he recalled his “love”—young and beautiful. He remembered asking her age and being told thirteen, though her figure was nothing like a child’s.

Ah, youth! Xu Dong swallowed hard. He clung to Hai Feng and continued, “Next time you come, find me—I’ll show you the best sights, beauties everywhere, wine and feasts—a king’s pleasure!”

Hai Feng said little, just kept smiling and toasting Xu Dong, while Li Xian and Liu Zhiyang also drank with him. The other two at the table were already motionless, collapsed over their plates. Unaware, Xu Dong found himself unable to hear what Hai Feng and the others were saying. His eyelids grew heavy, until at last he, too, slumped forward, drifting into sleep. The final thing he saw was Hai Feng, Liu Zhiyang, and Li Xian laughing together.

In his dreams, Xu Dong saw his “love” again, her pitiful look making him want to indulge himself once more. But tonight, the bed felt different—smaller, making him bump his head. Realizing something was wrong, he opened his eyes abruptly to find himself in a speeding car, handcuffed.

He sobered instantly. “What’s going on? Who are you people? I’m the chief of the Tangping Sub-bureau! What do you want?”

From the front seat, a familiar face turned—Hai Feng’s.

Hai Feng said, “Chief Xu, didn’t you say last night you wanted to visit Mingzhou? No time like the present—we’re going today.”

Xu Dong raised his cuffed hands. “What’s with the handcuffs? What do you mean by taking me to Mingzhou?”

Hai Feng ignored the questions. “Shi Heng has already been caught—he’s in the car behind us. Your role in helping him escape has come to light. Oh, and the cameras you had installed in our hotel rooms—we knew about those from the beginning. You were very honest yesterday, and I hope you’ll continue to be honest in Mingzhou and confess everything.”

Xu Dong was stunned. He had no idea how, overnight, he’d become someone else’s prisoner. He realized he’d fallen into Hai Feng’s trap, but what could he do now? He could only sit quietly, watching as the car sped toward Mingcheng.