CHAPTER SEVEN
By dawn, the Presidential Residence had become a fortress.
Every hallway was sealed, every guard screened twice. The media knew nothing yet, but the air in Beijing buzzed with invisible tension.
Inside the command chamber, General Li Xuefang stood before a digital map of the estate, her expression unreadable.
Her aides — Colonel Mei Ling and Commander Shen Rui — flanked her, both waiting for her signal.
General Li: Status?
Shen stepped forward.
Commander Shen: The deceased was identified as Wu Cheng, a senior administrative secretary. Cause of death: cyanide derivative, disguised as medication. No signs of forced entry.
General Li: (Flatly) Internal. Someone close.
President Zhao Wenhai watched her quietly from the far end of the table, his hands clasped tightly.
President Zhao: My office is supposed to be impenetrable. Whoever did this… had access I only grant to five people. Including you, General.
Li didn't flinch.
General Li: Then you can be certain I'll clear my own name first.
Mei Ling stepped in, handing her a tablet.
Colonel Mei: We've extracted footage from the security nodes, but six cameras went offline thirty minutes before the incident. The system logs were erased remotely.
General Li: (Murmured) So we're dealing with someone inside the intelligence net. (Glanced at them) Someone who understands military encryption.
She turned toward the holographic projection of Wu Cheng's final movements — lines of timestamped data, his path traced in glowing blue through the hallways.
One spot flashed red. The President's office.
Time of death: 21:42.
And yet — the doors showed no breach.
Commander Shen: (Hesitantly) Sir-there's one more detail. Wu Cheng made a call before his death — encrypted, to an unknown number. The call originated not far from the Shanghai University network hub."
Li's eyes lifted slowly.
General Li: Repeat that.
Commander Shen: Shanghai University, General. The same region where you've been residing recently.
For a long moment, she said nothing. Her mind began connecting threads — networks, timing, proximity.
General Li: You think I brought this here?
She asked, voice cool and measured.
Shen straightened immediately.
Commander Shen: No, General. I'm suggesting the possibility of… overlapping interests.
Li turned toward the digital board again.
Shanghai. The same city as Jiang Ren.
She dismissed the thought instantly — personal ties never interfered with her duty. But something in the back of her mind — that flicker of instinct she never ignored — refused to quiet down.
General Li: Lock down every connection between the capital and Shanghai (she ordered). And I want a full analysis on that call — source, recipient, any trace data. We're not chasing ghosts; we're hunting a strategist.
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Hours later, after twelve straight hours of investigation, she finally stepped outside the palace. The air was thin, metallic. Reporters clustered behind the outer gate, shouting questions she ignored.
Her convoy waited, and made a way for her into the car. The road was empty, for once, the weight of silence was heavy enough for her.
Back at the Red Lotus Mansion, night had already fallen. Lights flickered softly from Jiang's studio. She could hear faint laughter inside — a comedy playing mixed with the interaction of his online friends.
It was strange, almost absurd. She moved past his door without stopping, but her thoughts didn't let her rest.
The data link. The call from Shanghai. The missing middleman from their engagement.
Pieces of a puzzle she couldn't yet see.
She paused halfway up the stairs and glanced toward his studio — just for a second.
Then she looked away.
General Li: [Focus, Xuefang. Sentiment clouds the blade.]
And once again, she took control of her inner being.
NOTE: '[]' means inner thoughts in this novel.
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