storm
Once the storm began, it swept everything away with devastating force. Evergreen Group, a giant edifice built on capital and desire, crumbled at a speed beyond anyone's imagination after its foundations were shaken.
Television news and online media outlets reported new, even more shocking, revelations daily. The scandal surrounding the PR team continued to unfold, with more details being uncovered: how they used recruitment tactics to recruit attractive young men and women, how they conducted "professional training," how they developed "strategies" for different targets... Each report became increasingly detailed and more appalling. Evergreen Chemical's image, once a prominent company, had completely degenerated into a laughingstock and a moral scourge.
Lin Xiaoning's family felt trapped on an isolated island, their doors and windows shut, their curtains tightly drawn, yet they could still sense the surging hostility and prying eyes of the outside world. Like vultures scenting blood, reporters began hovering at the entrances and exits of the complex, their telephoto lenses occasionally capturing their hurried comings and goings. Wang Shumin's annual leave had long since expired, forcing him to go to work. But every time he returned home, his face was a little gloomier than the day before. Lin Xiaoning knew that the strange looks and whispers at work were no gentler than the storm outside.
His parents rarely left the house. His mother's smile had completely vanished, and she often cried silently while holding Lele. His father grew even more silent, smoking more and more, and it was common for the light in his study to remain on until the early hours of the morning. This villa, once filled with laughter and joy, a symbol of Lin Xiaoning's "successful" life, was now shrouded in a deep sense of shame and despair.
Then came the fatal blow. Perhaps Xu Wu had completely lost his mind under the immense pressure, or perhaps, having tried all "conventional" methods to no avail, he went into a final madness. After once again attempting to send his "elite" PR team to "conquer" a key bank president, only to be harshly rebuffed and even humiliated, he reportedly, in a fit of rage and loss of control, subjected three female subordinates to horrific sexual abuse. He believed his power could still control everything and suppress these "small matters."
But he was wrong. The pressure, pushed to its limit, finally backfired. One of the victims, perhaps suffering immense physical and mental trauma and driven to despair by the prospect of mutual destruction, compiled all the evidence he had saved—including detailed written records, recordings, and even some extremely revealing video footage—into a devastating document. Along with some of Xu Wu's past clues about suspected economic crimes, he anonymously posted it online.
This time, the trigger wasn't just a discussion, but a tsunami of public outrage. Public opinion, shifting from the "PR team" scandal, was now directed directly and fiercely at the criminal offenses committed by the highest levels of the Evergreen Group. Public outrage surged, and the pressure was overwhelming.
"Xu Wu, chairman of Changqing Group, has been criminally detained by police on suspicion of multiple serious crimes, including illicit trafficking, illegal detention, major accidents due to negligence, and bribery..."
"Police report: Xu and several others are suspected of serious criminal offenses. The case is under further investigation..."
Every cold report on the phone was like a hammer, hammering down on Lin Xiaoning's family. Finally, during another dinner news broadcast, he suddenly stood up from the sofa, his chest heaving violently, his face livid. Ultimately, he said nothing, only slamming his fist against the wall with a dull thud. His mother burst into tears, and his father closed his eyes and sighed deeply, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.
What was coming was inevitable. The assessor arrived first. A few days later, two plainclothes but serious-looking investigators arrived. They were polite enough, showing their credentials, but the businesslike, unquestionable sense of distance they conveyed was more chilling than any reprimand.
"Ms. Lin Xiaoning, we need to inquire with you about the series of cases involving Xu and others from the Changqing Group. Please cooperate."
Wang Shumin subconsciously took a step forward, wanting to shield her behind him, but Lin Xiaoning gently pressed his arm. Her face was as pale as paper, and her body was trembling slightly, but her eyes held a strange, almost dead calm, as if the long-awaited judgment had finally arrived, and she was relieved. "I will cooperate." Her voice was soft, but remarkably clear.
The interrogation took place in a makeshift office provided by the community property management. The questions weren't as harsh as expected, but like a precise scalpel, peeling back layer after layer of a past she had thought she had forgotten, a past that could be covered up by her identity as a "mother." They covered the PR department's organizational structure, operating model, and funding; the "special" reception procedures for certain projects (like the environmental inspection); and her working and personal relationships with Xu Wu, Liu Feng, Zhang Jun, and others.
She tried to remain calm, speaking in the most objective and professional terms, attributing much of the sleaze to "unwritten workplace rules" and "directives from superiors," and downplaying her own subjective will and knowledge. She repeatedly emphasized that she had later left the PR department to focus on the film and television company's business. But when investigators presented some evidence, including details known only to core management and even several large PR expenses she had approved for unclear purposes, she realized her denial was weak.
"Ms. Lin, based on the information we have, as the head of the PR department at the time, were you aware of these patterns of behavior by your subordinates? Did you condone, tolerate, or even direct their actions? Did you verify the true purpose of the relevant expenses?"
The investigator's tone remained steady, but his questions were as sharp as a knife.
Lin Xiaoning was silent for a long time, so long that the sky outside the window turned from pale white to gray-blue. She lowered her head, looking at her tightly clasped hands, their knuckles white. She remembered Zhao Xianqi's words about the "heart of the cabbage," and remembered that she, too, once had a heart that yearned for purity and justice. But in this quagmire of reality, how much had she compromised? How much had she acquiesced to, for the sake of survival, for that seemingly dazzling success? She couldn't completely deceive herself.
Finally, she raised her head, meeting the investigator's scrutinizing gaze. Her voice was as dry as sandpaper. "I... admit that there were management oversights. I... failed to rigorously verify the final destination of some expenses. I am willing to assume the corresponding management responsibility for this."
There were no clear accusations, and no immediate coercive measures were taken. After several hours of questioning, she was allowed to return home, but was told not to leave the city in the near future, to maintain unimpeded communication, and to cooperate with the subsequent investigation at all times. Stepping out of the makeshift office, the evening breeze blew against her face with the biting chill of late autumn, yet she felt no cold, only a sense of exhaustion, hollowed out from within. Looking back, her brightly lit villa, enveloped in the twilight, resembled a vast, ornate cage, and she was the trapped beast within, with nowhere to escape.
The Evergreen Group was completely finished. Insolvent, bankruptcy notices plastered the glass doors of its headquarters. What was once a bustling place, a symbol of power and wealth, was now only a desolate seal and the occasional, frightened employee who came to inquire about the situation. The news began to recount the ripple effects of the collapse: upstream and downstream businesses were dragged down, unemployment soared, and local tax revenue plummeted...
Amidst the rubble, a familiar, aged figure emerged. It was Wu Jiaming. Rather than flee, he gathered all the veteran employees who were still willing to stay and had a deep connection to the factory and proposed a nearly tragic plan: asset separation. He was willing to pledge all his shares and life savings, and he called on employees to raise funds. He attempted to separate the core, cleanest, and still-functioning production facility from the shambles of bankruptcy liquidation into a new, employee-owned company.
Lin Xiaoning attended the small-scale bankruptcy liquidation meeting. She did not express any opinion on the disposal of her assets. Lin Xiaoning saw Wu Jiaming, who was standing in front of the simple meeting room. His voice was hoarse, but he was filled with a last-minute, almost paranoid passion:
"The equipment is old, the technology is outdated, and the bank account is empty! But we're still here! The craftsmanship is still there! The conscience is still there!" His eyes swept across every anxious or bewildered face in the audience. "Before the old factory director left, he took my hand and talked about how big the company would be or how much money we would make. He said, 'Jia Ming, lead everyone, keep our own jobs, and live a decent life!' Is Changqing still 'ours' now? It has become a tool for some people to satisfy their selfish desires and gamble and take risks! It deserves to die! But we shouldn't die. This factory that has supported generations of people shouldn't die!"
He pounded the table hard, his eyes burning with a fire Lin Xiaoning had never seen before. It was a determination completely different from the taciturn Wu Jiaming of the past, who only cared about technology. "We don't want those empty promises! We want this factory! Use our own money to buy it! Produce cleanly and live uprightly! This may be difficult, and we may fail in the end, but at least we tried, we are worthy of our conscience, and worthy of the trust of the old factory director!"
This news, like a faint yet persistent ray of light, pierced through the thick haze and illuminated Lin Xiaoning's dead heart. The old workhorse, whom she had once considered cowardly and only capable of executing tasks, chose, in his final moments, the most clumsy yet resolute means to protect what was most authentic in his heart: the roots of production and human dignity. How tragic! In the muddy waters of capital and desire, he stubbornly peeled off all the corroded and twisted outer leaves, fighting to hold on even to the most insignificant core. Wu Jiaming had to protect his factory and his job; but what, Lin Xiaoning, had to protect?
She lowered her head, gazing at Lele, who slept soundly in her arms. His pure, sleeping face, as if all the external turmoil had nothing to do with him, was the only place where she could find a moment of peace. Yet, this peace was so fragile. Wang Shumin's increasingly cold silence, the unconcealed disappointment and worry in his parents' eyes, and the pending investigation all hung like swords over her head.
Just when she was exhausted, almost completely crushed by the pressure from both inside and outside, an unfamiliar overseas phone number flashed on her phone. She hesitated for a moment, but finally answered it.
"Hello, is that Xiaoning? It's me, Ye Yidong."
The voice on the other end of the phone had become much calmer, having lost the immaturity and paranoia of the past. It now carried a kind of peace that came from having experienced the vicissitudes of life, as well as a subtle hint of... concern.
"I saw the domestic news... How are you... doing now?" He paused, as if carefully choosing his words. "I'm currently focusing on cross-border bankruptcy restructuring and complex commercial litigation. If you need legal advice or assistance, or... just need someone to talk to, I might be able to provide some professional advice."
His tone maintained just the right distance, professional and restrained. Finally, seemingly casually, as if to draw a clear line between them, he added, "Zilin and I are both very worried about you."
"Me and Zilin." Chubby girl Xu Zilin. The roommate who used to be carefree and bold in love and hate. Ye Yidong married her. This news was like a small stone dropped into the calm lake of Lin Xiaoning's heart, stirring up a faint ripple, and then returning to silence. She imagined that on the other end of the phone, standing next to Ye Yidong was the chubby girl, and they might be living a peaceful and stable life. He had been the most passionate love of her youth, and the betrayer who hurt her the most. Now, he was an old friend who sent a polite and professional greeting across the vast Pacific Ocean. Time had long since washed away those fierce loves, hates, and vengeances, leaving only a faint sense of melancholy, a sense of change and change.
She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice calm. "Thank you, Yidong. I'm... fine. I'll contact you if I need you. And thank you... Zilin for me."
After hanging up the phone, the world fell silent again, with only the sound of Lele's steady breathing in her ears. She walked to the window and parted the curtains a little. Outside, the night was dark and starless. She had lost the seemingly stable shell of her marriage, her parents' unconditional trust, and all the glitz and glamour built with money and power. She felt like she was back to square one, or even worse off, because she had been branded with a mark that could not be easily erased.
But this time, she held a brand new, pure life in her arms. She lowered her head, watching Lele's unconscious lip-smacking in his sleep, with such complete trust. She had lost all external support, yet it was as if, in this utter loss, she had been forced to confront her inner core.
Can that "cabbage heart," enveloped in layers of filthy outer leaves and nearly forgotten, finally find the soil and water it needs to thrive amidst this devastating destruction? The road to redemption is destined to be long and arduous, but this time, it seems she can only rely on herself, forging ahead step by step. Night deepens, and the road ahead remains uncertain.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
