Chapter 21: Provocation

"I am asking you, where is the desk now?" Jiang Zhaoyang persisted.

He Di shrugged, his expression one of utter indifference. "I haven't had the time to waste on junk; I haven't had the time to sell it."

"No time to sell it? Then where did you put it?"

"Go look in the utility room yourself!"

As he spoke, a cryptic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes flashing with a mix of mockery and provocation. "That place is piled high with clutter, thick with dust, dark and damp. But it’s the perfect place for someone like you who enjoys rummaging through trash."

At these words, Jiang Zhaoyang’s heart sank. A sense of foreboding spread through him like ice. He spun around abruptly and hurried toward the utility room. Pushing the door open, he was hit by a wave of mustiness. The room was crammed with discarded items—broken crates, defunct stationery, and forgotten office supplies. Jiang Zhaoyang searched through the debris with difficulty, his heart racing, his palms slick with sweat. Finally, in a corner, he spotted the familiar desk, lying there in silence.

He rushed over and pulled open the drawer. Thankfully, the critical research report was still there. He snatched it up and tucked it into his jacket before retreating from the room.

Jiang Zhaoyang returned to the office that had once been his—a space now brazenly occupied by He Di. Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, spilling onto the polished floor like fragments of time, creating a mosaic of light and shadow. He Di sat behind the large desk, looking immensely pleased with himself. As soon as he saw Jiang Zhaoyang cross the threshold, a triumphant and mocking smirk appeared on his face.

His words were sharp and venomous. "Oh, if it isn't our former Director Jiang of the Party and Government Office! What’s the matter? Still think you’re the master of this place? Can’t bear to leave?"

He Di drew out his tone, dripping with arrogance. "This office has a new master now. It belongs to He."

Jiang Zhaoyang replied coldly, "Whether I am the director or not is beside the point. But as of now, I have yet to receive any official notice of dismissal."

He Di scoffed, his mockery intensifying. "So obsessed with this piddling little title? A petty, insignificant post, and you're still clinging to it? Do you really think you're someone important? There was never an official document for your appointment as director of the Party and Government Office to begin with. Mayor Lin will personally inform you of your dismissal orally soon enough—that’s face enough for you, isn't it? Or were you hoping to hold onto the position while guarding the reservoir? That would be the joke of the century." He Di laughed uproariously, as if he could already see the wretched figure of Jiang Zhaoyang walking away.

Jiang Zhaoyang gave a disdainful smile. "He Di, do you think I’m like you? Dreaming of stepping on others to climb the ladder? I came here for something else."

He Di’s brow arched. A flash of surprise crossed his face. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"He Di, give me back my phone!"

He Di’s expression went blank, as if struck by a sudden cold wind. Then, a mocking smile appeared—one filled with sarcasm and disdain. "What phone?" he asked teasingly, his voice laced with mischief. His eyes gleamed with cunning, as if he were enjoying a game of cat and mouse. "Your phone, which is as inseparable from you as a wife—how could it possibly vanish into thin air and land in my hands? Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard?"

He added with a playful, malicious afterthought, "Oh, right. You don't even have a wife."

The remark hit Jiang Zhaoyang like a heavy hammer, and his face turned ashen.

"A girlfriend, then? You do have one, don't you?" He Di continued, his grin sinister and triumphant. "But it won't be long before she becomes someone else's prize. Heh! Doesn't that just slap you in the face?"

Jiang Zhaoyang’s anger surged, his temper threatening to boil over. He forced himself to stay calm. He knew he was down on his luck, at a disadvantage; he could not afford to act on impulse, or he would find himself in an unimaginable predicament.

"Were you charging your phone here on Friday afternoon?" Jiang Zhaoyang asked coldly. "And was that phone a new purchase? It looked exactly like mine! I remember when you saw my phone shortly after I bought it, you said I represented the trend. You said you had to follow in my footsteps, mimicking me as if I were some great role model, saying you had to learn everything from me."

Jiang Zhaoyang’s tone was thick with irony. He laughed contemptuously. "That sycophantic attitude, that fawning, bootlicking face—it honestly made my skin crawl. What’s the matter? Has it only been a few days and you’ve already forgotten?"

He Di’s face flushed red, then turned pale. He was momentarily speechless, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. After a long pause, he let out a harsh, twisted laugh. "That’s right!"

His laughter was wild and distorted. "Because you were always holding me back!" He Di’s voice rose sharply, his long-suppressed emotions finally erupting. "In terms of education, I couldn't compare to you. In terms of looks, I couldn't compare to you. In terms of writing reports, I couldn't compare to you." Every word seemed squeezed from between his teeth, filled with resentment and fury. "Even my family background couldn't measure up to yours. And as for my standing in the eyes of our leaders, I couldn't even hope to catch up to you. You always received praise and recognition so easily. And I, no matter how hard I worked, was always destined to stand in your shadow."

"I was envious, jealous, and hateful!" A cruel glint flashed in He Di’s eyes as all his pretenses and patience stripped away. "My fawning over you, every bit of conversation and laughter, every painstaking effort to please you—it was all to find that one opportunity to defeat you. I swallowed my pride and endured the bitterness, all so that one day, I could pull you down."

He Di’s words were filled with a twisted obsession and a near-maniacal desire, his voice sharp with excitement. He had been waiting for this moment—the chance to surpass Jiang Zhaoyang and the thrill of imagining him crushed beneath his feet.

"I’ve been waiting for that day, waiting for the turn of fate. Waiting to see you fall, waiting for our positions to be reversed, to let you taste what it’s like to plummet from the clouds into the dust. And now, I’ve finally waited for it!"

"So what if you’ve seen through my true colors? So what if you’ve exposed my hypocrisy and ambition? It’s already too late!"

"The fruits of victory are mine to harvest, and you… you can only watch."