He raised his head and his eyes fell on the party emblem on his father's chest, his tone as cold as an icicle.
"But regarding Qin Ying, I want a guarantee."
Wei Zhongchao slammed the document onto the table, causing the tea in the cup to spill out.
"Trading your future for a woman you're destined to never have? Is it worth it?"
“This is not a deal.”
When Wei Zhuolan turned around, the shadow of the dark green curtains covered his tense jaw.
“It’s a condition.”
He could hear his own heartbeat deafening, but he forced himself to speak in the calmest tone.
"I will walk the path you pave, but she must be safe."
"I want to see Qin Ying with my own eyes—"
"Watching her being scrutinized?"
Wei Zhongchao suddenly threw the pen, and the metal pen cap hit his son's feet.
"Idiot! Do you think the people from the Security Department are your nanny?"
He stood up suddenly, and the buttons on his Mao suit's collar flew off.
"You still want to go to the investigation site? Do you want the Fu family to think that our Wei family is using marriage as a bargaining chip?"
Wei Zhuolan's Adam's apple rolled as he recalled the customary smile that appeared in the corners of his father's eyes when he was toasting with military and political leaders at Qin Ying's celebration banquet. Every line of his smile was precisely in line with the scale of social etiquette.
That was not the father he knew, but a politician weaving a network of power.
"remember!"
Wei Zhongchao walked around the desk and poked his son's chest with his fingertips:
"When you go to the Fu family in a few days, you must let Fu Qixun know that what you are proficient in is the 'Regulations on Political Work of the Military in the New Era', not some bullshit violin sheet!"
He suddenly lowered his voice, with a threatening intimacy:
"I will handle Qin Ying's matter, but if you make me lose face in the system again..."
Before he could finish his words, the celadon cup with the words "Serve the People" on it suddenly fell from the bookshelf and shattered into pieces on the concrete floor.
Wei Zhuolan stared at his father's cold pupils, and suddenly remembered that when he was in college, he insisted on applying to medical school.
In front of all his subordinates, my father threw the human anatomy diagram he had drawn all night into the stove. Amid the crackling sound of the flames licking the paper, my father sneered:
"Can a scalpel cut open the Organization Department's transfer order? Can you get the Propaganda Department's seal to appear on your name?"
The disappointment in his father's eyes at this moment was exactly the same as it was back then. It was not anger towards his son, but disgust towards the "defective product" who had deviated from the track of power.
"I'm going to write my resignation."
Wei Zhuolan uttered these words lightly and turned away without hesitation.
Wei Zhongchao's pen tip drew a cold horizontal line on the "Propaganda Work Briefing" and a voice sounded behind him:
"The Propaganda Department is holding a special meeting on 'Social Civilization Construction' tomorrow night. You'd better not delay important matters."
Wei Zhuolan paused for a moment as he was holding the door handle, then without saying a word, he opened the door and walked out.
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