Chapter 7: Undercurrents
Li Chongping had fallen from grace.
When inspectors from the city's disciplinary commission arrived at City Hall to take Li Chongping away, Lin Qishan was already driving toward the scene. Minutes later, he stood outside the government building, gazing up at its looming façade, a cold chill creeping through his chest.
Li Chongping – a man he was certain was honest and upright – how could he have been toppled so swiftly?
Lin Qishan did not rush inside. He knew that acting on impulse would solve nothing; only calm, rational analysis could bring the truth to light. Instead, he parked in an inconspicuous corner and lit a cigarette, choosing to observe from a distance while he quietly sorted through the information he had gathered so far.
First: Why had Li Chongping been targeted?
Lin Qishan carefully reconsidered Li Chongping's recent actions. In the South City redevelopment project, Tianhong Real Estate – one of Pang Sinan's companies – had secured the contract, and the Pang family maintained extensive financial dealings with the Xiangci Foundation. Yet Li Chongping had repeatedly, both publicly and privately, voiced doubts about the Tianhong project and insisted on complete transparency in the fund flows. That stance clearly threatened certain people's interests.
Second: What role did the Xiangci Foundation really play?
On the surface, the foundation presented itself as a charitable organization, but behind the scenes its finances were tightly interwoven with the Pang family's real estate empire. A jolt went through Lin Qishan as it dawned on him that the Xiangci Foundation was very likely a secret money-laundering conduit for the powerful elite. Officially, Li Chongping was taken down for allegedly accepting bribes from the foundation – but obviously there was more to the story.
Third: What was the true meaning of the "Broken-Hand Buddha"?
This so-called "Broken-Hand Buddha" had surfaced several times before as a "gift" the Xiangci Foundation gave to officials. It was clearly an insidious threat – a token that bound its recipient into a web of obligation. Anyone who accepted it would be firmly under the foundation's control. And Li Chongping's downfall was very likely because he had refused this "gift." By defying them and hurting their interests, he had been made to pay the price in retaliation.
By the time he finished his cigarette, Lin Qishan slowly exhaled a lungful of smoke. He could now discern the hidden pattern behind these events: Li Chongping's fall was not an isolated incident at all, but part of a meticulously orchestrated political deal and purge of inconvenient figures.
That evening at eight, Lin Qishan received a call from Xu Huaian. Xu's voice on the line was calm and unhurried: "Reporter Lin, it's been a while since we caught up. Do you have time to join me for a cup of tea?"
Lin Qishan agreed without hesitation. He knew full well that Xu Huaian certainly wasn't inviting him out just for tea.
They met at a small, nondescript tea house. Xu Huaian, dressed in a simple gray jacket, was sitting in a quiet corner with an air of calm detachment. When Lin Qishan arrived and took a seat, Xu greeted him with a slight smile and began to brew tea with practiced ease.
Xu Huaian spoke in a low, steady voice, his tone polite yet laden with subtext. "I asked you here today for a couple of reasons, Lin. For one thing, it's been ages since we last sat down together. And for another…" – he glanced toward the window – "well, the weather has been changing so fast these days…"
Lin Qishan gave a slight nod. He could sense the undercurrents beneath Xu's words. "Indeed. When the storm comes, some people hide under the eaves," he replied, "while others stand out and face it head-on."
Xu's faint smile tightened almost imperceptibly. He paused for a moment, then said, "Facing the wind might be heroic, but if you end up soaked and catch a cold, no one will pity you." His voice remained mild, but each word was pointed.
Lin Qishan's expression stayed neutral. "But if no one ever steps out, the roof might just collapse and crush them all," he answered calmly.
At this, Xu Huaian set down the teapot and studied Lin Qishan with a deeper gaze. "Reporter Lin," he said, "on a chessboard, the art of the game lies in knowing when to advance and when to retreat. As the saying goes, 'A master player plots the whole board, while a poor player fixates on a single piece.' What do you think?"
Lin Qishan felt a heaviness settle in his chest. He realized Xu's gentle conversation had been a calculated warning all along. Even so, he kept his tone light as he responded, "Director Xu, are you advising me not to fixate only on the pieces right in front of me?"
Xu Huaian slid a cup of tea toward Lin and lowered his voice. "What truly decides victory," he said, "is often not the pieces themselves, but the one who moves them."
Lin Qishan raised the teacup to his nose, letting the fragrant steam curl around him. He understood perfectly: in Xu's metaphor, Li Chongping was just a pawn on the board, and a far larger hand beyond the board was the real threat behind all of this.
After parting ways with Xu Huaian, Lin Qishan drove home through the night. Xu's veiled words echoed in his mind. It was clear now that Xu had been hinting at some powerful figure lurking in the shadows. The Pang family, the Xiangci Foundation – those were merely the tip of a much deeper iceberg.
Around one o'clock in the morning, Lin Qishan's phone rang with an unfamiliar number. The voice on the other end was low and tense. "Reporter Lin," it said, "I work inside the city commission. I have something to give you – it's about the report that was used to bring down Li Chongping."
Lin Qishan went out to meet the caller immediately. The contact turned out to be a young man who looked over his shoulder at every step. He pressed a folder into Lin Qishan's hands and hurried off without another word. Under the dim streetlight, Lin flipped through the documents, his eyes widening with shock at each new page. The materials accusing Li Chongping were actually drawn up by Xu Huaian himself. Where Li's signature should have been, there were obvious signs of forgery. Every piece of financial "evidence" was fabricated from start to finish.
The truth hit Lin Qishan like a lightning bolt. Xu Huaian had long since cast his lot with the Pang faction. That friendly "heart-to-heart" in the tea house had been nothing but a ploy – a calculated gesture to throw him off the scent. Realizing how neatly Xu had tried to manipulate him, Lin felt a surge of anger rise in his chest, mingled with a chill of betrayal.
He slumped back in his car seat, brow furrowed tight, his mind racing through the implications. Li Chongping had been framed. Xu Huaian was the one who had orchestrated it from the shadows. And behind the Xiangci Foundation, there had to be an even more powerful mastermind pulling the strings. The disappearance of Ah Tang all those years ago, and the dark secrets buried at the old Xiangci Shelter – perhaps those were the very seeds from which this entire political conspiracy had grown.
Gradually, Lin Qishan came to see that the case he was investigating was far more than just a corrupt official or a crooked development deal. It was a vast and shadowy web – an enormous darkness woven from intertwined power, capital, and religious fervor. Everyone who had been drawn into it, whether by choice or by chance, could no longer free themselves so easily.
At dawn, Lin Qishan drove out of the city to a mountain peak on the outskirts. From the hilltop, he looked down over the city's silhouette. The city lay blanketed in a pale morning mist, seemingly quiet and serene – yet he knew it concealed countless unseen fires smoldering beneath its calm surface.
He understood that this city was like a giant beast's lair, and everyone inside was struggling to survive. Some people surrendered to the beast's rules; others rebelled and paid a heavy price. And he knew that pursuing this investigation would inevitably drag him down into the depths of that lair – into the very abyss.
Yet he had no other choice. He had no choice at all.