Chapter 30: This Is No Time for Recklessness

“If your father can return home safely, I will burn incense in gratitude!” she prayed devoutly.

“Power and influence are nothing but fleeting illusions. Compared with such empty, insubstantial things, what matters more to me is the happiness, health, and safety of our family.”

There was a hint of a sob in Zhou Jing’s voice, but more than anything, there was relief.

In this arena of power, she had long since seen through far too much.

Holding his phone, Jiang Zhaoyang gazed into the night beyond the window and said slowly to Zhou Jing on the other end, “Mother, take care of yourself. Make sure you get plenty of rest, and do not work yourself too hard.”

Every word seemed to flow from the depths of his heart, laden with profound concern and reluctance to part from his mother.

“All right, son. You take care of yourself too. You are on your own out there, so remember to eat on time and stop staying up so late.”

Zhou Jing’s voice came through the telephone line with a faint, almost imperceptible tremor, but it held even more reassurance and concern.

That voice crossed layer upon layer of distance and touched the softest place in Jiang Zhaoyang’s heart.

A warm current seemed to flow through him.

When the call ended, Jiang Zhaoyang hung up gently, almost cautiously, as though afraid of disturbing that rare moment of tenderness.

He drew a deep breath and set the phone back on the table.

The next morning, when the first rays of sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains and fell across his face, Jiang Zhaoyang was already feeling much better.

He knew that although his father was in trouble, he could at least stay informed of his condition through Wu Wenjuan.

That alone was a tremendous comfort to him.

He thought that after a few more days, he could ask Wu Wenjuan to send his father some daily necessities, along with a few things he usually enjoyed eating.

At the very least, that might make his father’s days under disciplinary investigation a little more comfortable.

As long as his father had not actually committed corruption, his release would come sooner or later.

Most people in the Discipline Inspection Commission were committed to upholding principles and enforcing the law impartially. Those corrupt officials could not cover the sky with one hand.

Their sinister schemes could never withstand the light of day.

He arrived at the office.

Just as Jiang Zhaoyang was walking toward the water dispenser in the corner, planning to dispel his morning drowsiness and revive his spirits with a cup of clear tea, his gaze inadvertently swept across his desk.

He froze.

A steaming cup of fine tea sat quietly on the desk, waiting for him.

A delicate fragrance rose in wisps.

Jiang Zhaoyang approached involuntarily, astonishment filling his eyes.

He carefully lifted the cup. Its warmth passed through the thin porcelain and into his palm, and a wave of heat instantly welled up in his heart.

He took a small sip. The tea was rich yet delicate, and its warmth slowly flowed down his throat.

It was as though an invisible force had warmed not only his body—

[Page 1 of 3]

—but also the knots and weariness brought on by the pressures of work.

That warmth gently enveloped and melted them, until they finally dissolved into nothingness.

Clearly, someone had only just poured the tea for him. Its temperature was perfect, as though it had been prepared especially for him just before he entered the office.

Who had done it?

Jiang Zhaoyang was somewhat suspicious.

But he did not dwell on it. Who cared?

Perhaps someone had seen him return to the office and assumed that he was back in favor, so they had come to ingratiate themselves with him in secret.

He could only shake his head and sigh at such behavior.

It was merely another commonplace display of currying favor in the vast forest of the workplace—people adept at reading expressions, accustomed to blowing trumpets and carrying sedan chairs for whoever held power.

They were like vines in the shadows, slipping in through every crack and appearing everywhere, clinging tightly to the trunk of power and greedily climbing upward.

This phenomenon was particularly widespread in government offices.

It was an incurable “common ailment” of workplace culture.

If one wanted such habitual flatterers to keep circling around him, his power and influence would have to remain eternal.

As the old saying went, “With enough money, even ghosts will turn a millstone.”

But what truly draws all resources together is power.

Beneath the aura of authority, money and beautiful women are merely accessories—easily obtained and instantly within reach.

That was why so many people yearned for power and rushed toward it.

Some would even pursue it at any cost.

Jiang Zhaoyang no longer allowed those distracting thoughts to linger in his mind. He lowered his head and began working.

Inside the office, the only sound was the fine, steady scrape of his pen against the paper.

Before long, a figure quietly entered Jiang Zhaoyang’s office.

The man craned his neck toward Jiang Zhaoyang, who was bent over his desk.

Then he stared unblinkingly at the research report.

Jiang Zhaoyang was completely immersed in the ocean of work and remained oblivious to everything around him.

Only after staring for a long time had left his eyes with an indescribable dryness and fatigue did he finally stop his pen instinctively.

He gently rubbed his eyes, trying to withdraw for a moment from his state of total concentration.

[Page 2 of 3]

He meant to ease the discomfort in his vision.

At that very moment, he suddenly realized that another figure had appeared beside him, peering over his shoulder.

Jiang Zhaoyang’s heart jolted.

He whipped around and blurted out, “You?”

He Di offered an awkward smile and tried to ease the sudden embarrassment. “Director Jiang, what magnificent work are you composing?”

“I could not help wanting to take a look.”

He deliberately furrowed his brow, a vaguely mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “This must be a substantial academic paper, must it not?”

Yet a sly glint shone in He Di’s eyes.

He flattered him unobtrusively. “Director Jiang, you are truly capable and gifted. Judging by the thickness of this manuscript, it must be several dozen pages at least. It is surely a masterpiece destined for the academic world.”

Suppressing his disgust, Jiang Zhaoyang said coldly, “Why would I be writing an academic paper during working hours?”

“Then what are you writing?”

Jiang Zhaoyang cast him a sidelong glance.

The corners of his mouth curled into a mocking arc. “You have been peeking at it all along, have you not?”

“What is the matter? He Di, has your eyesight deteriorated that quickly? You are still young, yet you already have farsightedness?”

“You could not make out even a single character?”

Then Jiang Zhaoyang gave a cold snort, his sarcasm becoming even more direct. “You are not blind, are you? What I wrote—you truly could not make out a single word?”

Anger flared up in He Di’s heart.

Was this boy insulting him?

But he knew that this was no time to act rashly.

If he lost control and allowed his emotions to run wild, he would only place himself at an even greater disadvantage.

If this fellow dragged his feet and failed to complete the work, it could delay something important.

Thus, he forcibly suppressed his anger, squeezed out a reluctant smile, and said with feigned ease, “Director Jiang, surely you are joking?”

“I only happened to glance at it just now. I saw the words ‘research’ and assumed it was an academic study.”

“Academic? Ha! Then have you not found yourself the perfect opportunity to report me to the leadership?”

[Page 3 of 3]