163: Chapter 162: Start Taking Action 163: Chapter 162: Start Taking Action The next morning, Song Yun had Zhao Yan arrange for someone to deliver the notebook to the Supervision Department.
After a moment of contemplation, Zhao Yan asked, “Can we rely on Wang Dong?”
“Relax,” Song Yun said calmly.
“I wouldn’t support him without having leverage over him.
Be cautious this time.
If they retaliate, we need to be prepared.
Lay low for a bit, and keep the girls out of the clubs until this blows over.”
“I understand.
After I cracked down on a few bar owners last time, no one dares to mess around anymore.
But without that, our hostess business can only serve as a lure for customers.
You know we need something appealing to draw more clients,” Zhao Yan said.
“Right, as long as it’s consensual and stays under the radar, let it be.
After all, being a hostess is a profession too.
We shouldn’t discriminate against them just because of their background,” Song Yun added.
“If there’s nothing else, how is Li Tang doing in the hospital recently?”
“That kid is said to have gotten involved with a nurse there,” Zhao Yan reported.
“He claims he’s serious this time, but who knows if it’s true.”
“Tell Li Tang that if he’s serious, we fully support him.
If it’s just a fling, well, let him remember why he ended up in the hospital,” Song Yun scoffed.
“I don’t mind my brothers finding happiness, but I do mind if it’s women issues that land them in the hospital.”
“I’ll warn him.
If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up,” Zhao Yan said.
“Will you come over and preside over the meeting later?”
“I trust you,” Song Yun said and then hung up the phone.
Coming out from his room, Song Yun noticed that Li Shishi had personally made a Western breakfast that day.
He spread jam on the bread and started eating with delight.
While Song Yun was calmly having his breakfast here, Dong Linze was frantic.
A friend who worked in the Supervision Department had reportedly received an anonymous letter that day containing a notebook seemingly related to him.
Dong Linze knew it related to him and that it was significant.
It documented all his underground dealings; the consequences would be unthinkable if the notebook ever reached higher ups.
While Dong Linze was still debating whether to alert his superiors, the door burst open.
Two men in supervision uniforms, ignoring any objections, approached Dong Linze who was seated at the dining table and said, “Director Dong, our supervisor has prepared tea and is waiting for you.”
Though spoken gently, the implications were alarming.
In the Huaxia political sphere, being invited for tea wasn’t merely a casual invitation—it signified a thorough investigation.
Dong Linze, a cunning old fox, didn’t panic.
Instead, he calmly requested, “May I make a phone call to my superiors?”
“You have one minute,” said a supervision worker, checking his watch.
After getting permission, Dong Linze called his superior, briefly explained his situation, and awaited a thoughtful response of “I’ll try.”
Relieved by the potential intervention, Dong Linze relaxed slightly.
Minor internal sanctions were nothing compared to jeopardizing his promotion.
“Let me change my clothes, and then we can go,” Dong Linze said, a grin on his face.
In Supervision Director Feng Jianguo’s office, Dong Linze sat upright in a chair across from Feng Jianguo’s desk.
Feng didn’t invite him to sit on the couch, indicating a strictly official interaction.
After seating him, Feng Jianguo scrutinized an old-looking notebook in his hands as if it contained earth-shattering secrets.
Since Feng Jianguo remained silent, Dong Linze didn’t interject any excuses, aware that being a suspect meant that saying less was better.
Eventually, Feng closed the notebook, took a sip of tea from the cup in front of him, and finally looked up at Dong Linze.
“Hello, Director Dong, I called you here to ask for your help with an investigation,” Feng Jianguo began, his gaze intensely fixed on Dong Linze’s face.
“It’s not too big or too small, so don’t feel too pressured.”
Officials at this level typically had exceptional composure.
Discerning their true thoughts from their facial expressions was nearly impossible.
However, having worked in supervision roles since joining the workforce, Feng’s stare could make anyone nervous, as though he could see right through them.
“Director Feng, that’s very kind of you; we’re all here to serve the people,” Dong Linze responded with a smile.
“May I know what specific task you have for me today?
Our department is quite busy lately, and I wouldn’t want to fall behind on paperwork.”
“No worries, the paperwork can wait,” Feng Jianguo replied, taking another sip of tea.
“I was wondering if this notebook has anything to do with you.”
Dong Linze recognized the notebook—it had been with him since the day he became the vice director of the police department, filled with matters greatly concerning him.
He hadn’t expected his notebook to end up in the hands of those plotting against him, especially not at this critical moment.
“That doesn’t matter,” Dong Linze firmly denied any knowledge of the notebook, relying on his current position and the fact that severe interrogation tactics weren’t applicable to him in the supervision department.
Besides, with a high-placed protector, he’d likely be exonerated.
“Oh, so this notebook really has nothing to do with you?
It’s better to be careful with your words,” Feng Jianguo said slowly, with a hint of malice.
“Director Dong, don’t be too quick to deny.
Why not look through the notebook first?”
Dong Linze hesitated.
Taking the notebook might reveal his nervousness, but refusing it would be even more suspicious.
Feng Jianguo had skillfully cornered him.
Ultimately, weighing his options, Dong Linze took the notebook, opened it to the first page, which bore only the flamboyant inscription: “Idling Freelancer.”