The moment the doors to the Investigation Department opened, the administrator at the entrance sprang to his feet.
“Commander Jiang, Advisor Jiang!”
“Advisor” was the title Lu Shiyan had arranged for Jiang Nuan at headquarters.
The first time Jiang Nuan heard it, she had been silent for several seconds.
Someone who still hadn’t figured out how many floors the Investigation Department had was being given the title of advisor.
Wonderful. Perfectly reasonable.
She didn’t feel guilty in the slightest.
After all, it had been arranged by her own team leader. What was there to fear?
The administrator’s smile was as warm as that of a five-star hotel concierge. “You’re both here early today! Where are you headed? Shall I show you the way?”
Early… They hadn’t exactly been here very often.
Commander Jiang gave a composed nod in greeting. “No need. Where is Governor Lu right now?”
“In the interrogation area, Level B3,” the administrator replied at once. “Would you like me to take you there?”
“No need,” Jiang Ce said.
The two of them headed toward the elevators.
Several pairs of eyes discreetly followed them.
Some were curious. Some were assessing them. Others nudged their colleagues with their elbows.
But no one dared to approach.
Everyone knew.
Although Advisor Jiang and Commander Jiang had only joined the Investigation Department a few days ago, they were the two people Governor Lu trusted most.
Rumor had it that when Governor Lu was impeached this time, the two of them had worked tirelessly behind the scenes, running around and smoothing things over.
In the end, the crucial evidence that had turned the tables had been submitted through them.
Of course, that was only a rumor circulating within the Investigation Department.
Jiang Nuan passed through all those gazes without the slightest idea that, in everyone else’s eyes, she had already become a key figure who had plotted everything with perfect foresight and single-handedly turned the tide.
If she had known, she would only have thought that the rumor contained more water than the bathwater she had used the night before.
What was the truth?
The truth was that they had done absolutely nothing the entire time.
But there was no need to expose that.
After all, “We didn’t do a thing. We simply trusted our team leader to handle everything himself” was neither dignified nor a suitable explanation for why they were allowed to walk through the Investigation Department without anyone stopping them.
So the two of them proceeded down the corridor with the title of Governor Lu’s most trusted right- and left-hand men, perfectly at ease.
Jiang Nuan even gave the administrator a nod.
Calm and unhurried.
She looked every bit like a genuine advisor should.
Jiang Ce glanced at her from the side, the corners of his mouth lifting.
It was as if he were saying: You’re pretty convincing.
Jiang Nuan remained expressionless and returned his look: Thank you. It’s called professional composure.
When the elevator reached Level B3, the doors opened, and the temperature dropped several degrees.
The corridor in the interrogation area was relatively narrow. The lighting was a cold white, and footsteps produced faint echoes against the floor.
No one stopped them.
The two officers on duty along the way moved aside as soon as they saw them and inclined their heads slightly.
Compared with the last time she had left an interrogation room with Lu Shiyan two days ago, the angle of their bows had deepened by at least another fifteen degrees.
Sure enough, a tyrant who had survived an attempted overthrow was more frightening than one who had never been challenged.
They found Lu Shiyan after only a short walk.
He was in an interrogation room with the door half open.
A dull thud came from inside, as if something had just been forced back onto the floor.
Jiang Nuan’s steps faltered.
Jiang Ce glanced at her, then walked in first.
The interrogation room was brightly lit, leaving nothing unclear.
Lu Shiyan stood there.
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to the middle of his forearms, revealing strong, well-defined arms. In his right hand, he held a document, his long, clean knuckles slowly turning the pages.
One black boot rested on the chest of a man sprawled on the floor.
He wasn’t applying much pressure. It was almost as if the man simply happened to be a convenient place to rest his foot.
Commander Gao.
The once-imposing commander’s uniform was torn beyond recognition, as though he had been dragged and hauled in from somewhere. The fabric was ripped, and dust covered every inch of it.
His cheek was pressed against the floor tiles. He looked so wretched that Jiang Nuan could hardly recognize him as the man who, just a few days ago, had arrogantly marched her away when several patrol officers captured her.
Commander Gao’s face had swollen purple. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
Lu Shiyan didn’t look at him.
“Two parts of the information you gave me don’t match.”
He turned another page and spoke coldly.
“Think carefully before you answer.”
The sole of his boot twisted slightly.
The man on the floor let out a muffled groan. Sweat trickled from his forehead and struck the tiles.
Jiang Nuan watched without feeling the slightest bit of sympathy.
He deserved it.
To climb higher, Commander Gao had colluded with the Cleaners.
At the most dangerous moment, he had exposed Lu Shiyan’s identity problem.
Ye Que and Jiang Ce had both been seriously injured.
If the team leader had been there, they never would have been forced into such a desperate situation.
Lu Shiyan’s hand paused for a moment as he turned the document.
Then he lifted his foot.
The boot withdrew from Commander Gao’s chest, then casually kicked his face, turning the man’s head away from the door.
Now he was facing the wall.
The movement was so casual, as if Lu Shiyan had merely found the object obstructing his view.
It took Jiang Nuan a second to realize that Commander Gao’s twisted, miserable face was no longer within her line of sight.
“Jiang Nuan.”
Lu Shiyan raised his head and glanced at her before lowering his eyes back to the document. His voice changed almost imperceptibly.
“Here to pick up the materials?”
His tone when speaking to her was utterly different from the one he had used with Commander Gao.
As if greeting her while standing on someone’s chest was perfectly ordinary for Lu Shiyan.
She nodded. “Yes, Governor.”
Lu Shiyan tilted his chin toward the desk. “Over there.”
Jiang Nuan followed his gaze.
How tall was the stack of materials?
About the height of two Xinhua Dictionaries piled on top of each other.
Jiang Nuan froze in place.
Was this even a job meant for a human being?
She was supposed to finish all that before noon?
A thought flashed rapidly through her mind: Would it be too late to smuggle Shen Wu in now?
Unfortunately, Shen Wu had already set out for Area A with Ye Que and Qinian to scout the route.
Help from afar could not put out a fire close at hand.
Jiang Ce chuckled beside her. “Let’s go.”
Jiang Nuan stared at the stack of paper explosives and bit her lower lip. “So we need to deal with this entire little mountain in half a day.”
“It’s not impossible.”
“Jiang Ce, do you have some misunderstanding about the phrase ‘it’s not impossible’?”
Jiang Ce had already walked over.
He picked up the entire stack of documents in one go.
“You two can process these in my office.” Lu Shiyan handed Jiang Nuan an access card.
The card was very thin, and when he passed it to her, it carried a faint trace of warmth from his fingers.
Jiang Nuan took it, and his fingers brushed against her knuckles.
There was no lingering touch, but it still carried a hint of his warmth.
She looked up at Lu Shiyan.
He had already lowered his head again and resumed reading his documents.
He wore an expression that said, “I didn’t do anything.”
Beside the tip of his boot, Commander Gao faced the wall and didn’t dare move a muscle.
Jiang Nuan withdrew her gaze and followed Jiang Ce out of the interrogation room.
The instant the door closed behind them, the corridor’s cold white light settled over them once more.
Jiang Ce turned his head and glanced at her. The stack of files in his arms covered half his face, but the eyes that remained visible were unmistakably filled with amusement.
“What is it?” Jiang Nuan asked.
“Nothing,” Jiang Ce’s voice came from behind the stacks of paper, tinged with amusement. “I was just thinking that Advisor Jiang has done a pretty good job managing her expressions all the way here.”
“That’s called professionalism!” Jiang Nuan said with a laugh.
The two of them took the elevator to the twenty-first floor.
With a beep, the lock clicked open.
The moment the door swung inward, a cool, understated woody scent greeted them.
It seemed to have permeated the space over time—the scent that belonged to the room’s owner.
Very faint, yet impossible to ignore.
The office was considerably larger than the one Lu Shiyan occupied at the Zero Squad’s base.
Floor-to-ceiling windows covered the entire wall, allowing the early-winter morning light to stream in.
There were almost no personal belongings on the desk.
The documents were arranged with impeccable neatness.
The office was clean and austere, with an almost overwhelming sense of order.
It was exactly like the penthouse apartment.
The moment Jiang Nuan stepped inside, her body reacted before her mind could.
A faint, instinctive wariness—the kind that arose when entering someone else’s territory.
It was as though every inch of air in the room bore Lu Shiyan’s invisible mark.
Jiang Ce placed the stack of documents securely on the low cabinet opposite the desk, dusted off his hands, and turned to her.
“Should we sort them first?”
Jiang Nuan pulled out the chair opposite the desk and sat down.
“Mm.” She picked up the top document. “Let’s see which ones need signatures and which require additional information. We’ll put them in order and split up the writing.”
“Sounds good.”
Jiang Ce pulled over a chair beside her. His long legs folded as he sat down, and he began extracting documents from the stack.
The morning light shifted slowly beyond the windows.
It fell across the back of Jiang Nuan’s hand, warming a small patch of skin.
When she lowered her head and opened the first document, a trace of that warmth still lingered on her fingertips.
*
They worked through the entire morning.
Jiang Nuan set down her pen, rubbed her wrist, and looked up at the stack of documents.
What had originally stood as high as two Xinhua Dictionaries had been reduced to a thin pile.
A subtle, hard-won sense of accomplishment rose within her, dredged up from the memories of surviving term-paper season.
She awarded herself a prize in her head.
“Advisor Jiang, for successfully completing two dictionary-high stacks of official documents in an unfamiliar command center through collaborative effort”—please accept my deepest bow.
“Finally done.” Jiang Ce closed the last unfinished document on his side and placed it atop the completed pile.
He checked the time on his wrist. “It’s already one.”
“Nuannuan, how are things on your end? Shall we go eat? I hear the captain’s kitchenette serves excellent food.”
“I only have one left.” Jiang Nuan looked at the half-completed form in her hand. “You go ahead. I’ll be done soon.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
The instant he finished speaking, his stomach let out an impressively audible growl.
In the quiet office, it was so clear that even Jiang Nuan couldn’t help turning to look at him.
“Go on, go on.” Suppressing a laugh, she rubbed her slightly sore wrist and waved him toward the door. “I’ll write more slowly if someone’s waiting for me. Hurry up.”
Jiang Ce’s face reddened slightly. He cleared his throat and stood. “Then do your best.”
“Mm. See you in a bit,” Jiang Nuan said.
The door closed, and the office fell silent again.
Jiang Nuan lowered her head and quickly filled out the final document.
Everything went smoothly until she reached the last section.
[Application for Reinstatement of Position · Original Appointment Number]
Her pen hovered in midair.
She thought she had caught a glimpse of it earlier. When Lu Shiyan had placed the documents away, she had noticed a classification label for an appointment document pressed beneath the right side of his desk. The number should be on it.
Once she copied it down, she could submit the form.
Jiang Nuan walked around to the back of Lu Shiyan’s desk and bent over to search the surface.
The documents were organized with extreme precision. Even the sections beneath the paperweight had been marked out in pencil.
She searched very carefully, lifting only the corner of a document to peek underneath.
An inexplicable sense of guilt, like snooping around a homeroom teacher’s desk, descended upon her.
It wasn’t as though she was doing anything wrong.
She had a perfectly legitimate reason for taking a number.
She found the appointment document. It was tucked beneath the second stack on the right. She only had to pull it out and confirm the number—
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
More than one person.
Lu Shiyan’s voice came with someone else’s.
“Governor Lu, please rest assured. The Archives Office can issue it directly this afternoon. There’s no need to follow the standard procedure. It can be completed today.”
Before Jiang Nuan’s brain could process what was happening, her body had already crouched down and ducked beneath the desk.
It was pitch-black under there. She curled up with her knees drawn to her chest, her back pressed against the underside of the desktop, still clutching the unfinished application form.
The footsteps drew closer.
The door opened.
In the darkness, Jiang Nuan held her breath.
Then she realized—
…Why was she hiding?
She had only been taking a document. Taking a document normally. Legally and reasonably.
Yes, it was Lu Shiyan’s desk, but she had a legitimate reason!!
The problem was, she was already under there.
If she crawled out now, bracing herself with both hands and emerging from beneath his desk before standing up to tell everyone, “I was just getting a code,” the scene would require even more explanation than staying put.
The footsteps entered the office. Two people.
From beneath the shadows of the desktop, Jiang Nuan distinguished the voices.
“Have a seat.”
Lu Shiyan’s voice.
The faint scrape of chair legs against the floor followed. The other person sat down, apparently in the chair opposite the desk.
Jiang Nuan shrank farther into the shadows beneath it.
Lu Shiyan walked along the side of the desk where she was hiding and circled around to the back.
When he reached the space behind the desk, he paused.
In the darkness, Jiang Nuan held her breath.
Then he let out a soft laugh.
So soft that only Jiang Nuan could hear it.
Her heart jolted. Had Lu Shiyan already discovered her?
Then he sat down.
The chair slid slightly inward, and his long legs extended beneath the desk.
Those long legs were only about the length of a forearm away from Jiang Nuan’s face.
She pressed herself farther against the inner side of the desk, her back against the panel, staring at the pair of legs practically within reach while hardly daring to breathe.
The fitted trousers of the governor’s uniform outlined his legs clearly as he sat.
Jiang Nuan’s gaze brushed over them—
and immediately darted away.
To the desktop.
To the corner of the desk.
To an utterly ordinary table leg.
But she decided that, for however long the next stretch of time lasted, she would devote herself to conducting a highly focused academic study of that table leg.
Unfortunately, that brief glimpse had already burned itself into her mind.
Above the desktop, Lu Shiyan began speaking in his usual steady manner, handling the transfer of the archives as calmly as if he hadn’t noticed that a person was hiding beneath his desk.
Staring at the perfectly ordinary corner of the desk, she told herself to concentrate on figuring out how to get out.
Then, once again, the corner of her eye slipped out of her control and swept toward him.
She closed her eyes.
…Was this even a condition human beings were supposed to possess?
