Chapter 60: Lion (20)

Tan Zhao said, "There's no need to force it," though his expression was somewhat forced. Lost in who-knows-what thoughts, he tossed and turned after turning off the lights and going to bed, eyes wide open, until Wen Mingwei, at the end of his patience, finally pinned him down with a firm hand, causing him to quiet down and sleep at last.

Because he had slept so late, Tan Zhao uncharacteristically overslept the next morning and missed his flight.

When he woke up, Wen Mingwei had long been awake, drinking coffee by the window with a book resting beside his hand. He didn't look like he had read much; he was using an orange as a bookmark. The pages he had read were propped up vertically against the fruit, and from Tan Zhao's angle, he could just see part of the title on the cover: "sky," while the remaining words were obscured.

Tan Zhao murmured, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

He had even turned off his alarm.

Wen Mingwei replied, "You've been working too hard lately. You might as well take a day off to rest properly."

"I'm fine. We can talk about rest after I get through this busy period."

Tan Zhao went to the bathroom to wash up and quickly got himself ready. As he headed out, he casually picked up Wen Mingwei's orange bookmark, peeled it, and ate it.

That served as breakfast for the day. Tan Zhao didn't eat anything else; he had his secretary rebook his flight, boarded at noon, and flew back to the casino city.

Tan Zhao's workload wasn't all that heavy; what truly exhausted him was the heavy burden on his mind and his calculated scheming.

After he left, Wen Mingwei resumed reading the book. Every word on the page was starkly clear, yet once they entered his retinas, they lost their original meaning, turning into rows of black tadpoles.

Wen Mingwei concentrated, translating the "tadpoles" back into words, and read a passage: "The sky here is very strange. Every time I look up, I always feel like it's a hard solid, as if protecting us from something behind it."

After the male protagonist finished speaking, his wife asked fearfully, "What is behind it?"

The male protagonist answered, "I suppose nothing. Just a stretch of darkness, pure night."

Wen Mingwei fell silent for a moment, closed the book, and summoned Gu Jing for questioning.

Recently, Gu Jing had not ceased his investigations across the border, attempting to unearth the whereabouts of Wen Mingzhe's stronghold. However, the overseas territories were vast and boundless, lacking even accurate maps; trying to find someone who deliberately hid himself was akin to finding a needle in a haystack.

Yet, it was not entirely without reward.

Gu Jing reported several large-scale gunfights that had recently occurred near the southeastern border to Wen Mingwei, saying, "Although Wen Mingzhe hasn't shown his face, one of the groups involved might be his subordinates. Afterward, I inquired with Dan Wei, and he also thought it looked likely, mentioning that the leader looked familiar."

This indicated that up to this point, Wen Mingzhe had not given up his plans to unify the borderlands, attempting to march through Chencang in secret to expand his influence without Wen Mingwei's knowledge—border gunfights were frequent, and various big and small gangs lived and died overnight, so the sudden appearance of a new faction would not draw too much attention.

After Gu Jing finished speaking, Wen Mingwei did not seem particularly concerned. He tapped his fingers absentmindedly against the book cover for nearly a minute before suddenly looking up: "Gu Jing."

"Hmm?"

"Tell me, if Tan Zhao were to collude with Wen Mingzhe, what benefits could he possibly gain?"

Gu Jing paused for a moment, then prudently answered with a question: "Are you suspecting that Mr. Tan has betrayed you?"

Gu Jing knew that Wen Mingwei's suspicion of Tan Zhao was not a matter of a day or two. However, before concrete evidence of betrayal emerged and caused substantive harm, no matter how many doubts there were, it could only remain a "suspicion."

Suspicion could arise at any time and be dismissed at any time. Since Wen Mingwei did not state his position clearly, Gu Jing did not dare to comment casually. After a moment of thought, he said, " Theoretically speaking, whatever Wen Mingzhe can give him, you can give him as well. Mr. Tan has no reason to look far afield when he has everything close at hand."

"Not necessarily," Wen Mingwei said. "What if what he wants is precisely what I cannot give him?"

"What is it that you cannot give?"

"There can only be one male lion in a single territory," Wen Mingwei said. "If he is unwilling to bow to another, he has no choice but to seek a path elsewhere. Wen Mingzhe may not necessarily be able to offer him many benefits, but behind Wen Mingzhe lies an ownerless territory."

"..." Gu Jing was slightly startled. "You mean Mr. Tan's target might be overseas?"

If he were to collude with Wen Mingzhe, it would merely be a temporary transition—

This conjecture was nothing short of astonishing. Gu Jing instinctively felt that Wen Mingwei was overthinking things.

It was possible that Tan Zhao was dissatisfied with being controlled by him and wanted to build a career of his own, but ambition had its boundaries. If Tan Zhao set his sights overseas and joined those illegal forces, could he ever turn back? Would he just abandon his family and his corporate group?

Even if this were merely a plan, it was incomprehensible.

In an era when even Wen Mingwei wanted to wash his hands clean and return to the legitimate side, how could anyone plunge headfirst into deep waters?

"Perhaps. I'm just thinking out loud." Wen Mingwei did not jump to conclusions; his train of thought was based on himself—if he were Tan Zhao, that was what he would do.

As for what Tan Zhao was truly thinking, only Tan Zhao himself knew.

Wen Mingwei added, "You don't need to keep such a close watch on him lately. Give him some space so he can play his hand properly."

Wen Mingwei's face possessed the translucent, inorganic coolness of white porcelain. His gaze was as calm as ever, though his mood could hardly be called good.

Gu Jing took the order and left, conveniently taking away the cup of ice-cold coffee from his desk.

In late November, the "Late Lantern" roses in the garden finally bloomed in patches.

On the evening of the twenty-seventh, Xijing welcomed the first snowfall of this winter.

Xijing was not a city prone to heavy snow; the number of snowfalls in a single winter was extremely limited. When Tan Zhao returned home, he saw Wen Mingwei wearing a heavy overcoat and a scarf, standing in the garden to watch the snow and admire the flowers.

Hearing Tan Zhao's footsteps, Wen Mingwei turned back. The long hair pressed down by his scarf spilled around his shoulders, dusted with a layer of fine, powdery snow.

"You're back very early today," Wen Mingwei asked. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

Tan Zhao followed his gaze down to the flower beds. A patch of pure white snow had settled upon the creamy-yellow petals, and as the flower stems swayed in the breeze, the fine snow slid off in a soft rustle.

Wen Mingwei spoke suddenly, though not in praise: "Actually, these flowers aren't anything special. It's just that rarity commands a high price; purely in terms of appearance, they're about the same as ordinary roses."

"What about the language of flowers?" Tan Zhao thought to himself, didn't you choose them specifically for their floral meaning?

Wen Mingwei glanced at him: "The meanings of flowers are all fake—just false significance assigned by humans."

"..."

The one who manufactured the romance was him, and the one who shattered the romance was also him. Tan Zhao had no idea how to respond. Yet Wen Mingwei seemed to be using the flowers merely as a pretext to say something else entirely. But because Tan Zhao hadn't picked up the thread, he didn't continue.

Tan Zhao pulled him into an embrace and asked instinctively, "Are you in a bad mood?"

Wen Mingwei smiled faintly: "No, I'm just a bit cold. Let's go inside."

These were the final days of November, and there were only a handful of days left before the two-month deadline Wen Mingwei had given Tan Zhao.

Lately, Wen Mingwei had relaxed his surveillance of Tan Zhao considerably, yet Tan Zhao didn't seem to have done anything that could be monitored.

Wen Mingwei's understanding of his activities came entirely from his own verbal accounts, including the operations of the casino, its approximate revenue, and how he utilized Wu Ang to make Wen Mingzhe trust him more deeply, allowing him to infiltrate the internal circles of Wen Mingzhe's forces and gain a rough estimate of the number of men and overall armed strength Wen Mingzhe commanded...

Tan Zhao explained all of this in meticulous detail, but because Tan Zhao was the sole source of information, it was difficult for Wen Mingwei to judge how much of his words were true and how much were false.

There were also certain loopholes; for instance, Tan Zhao's schedule was not entirely transparent. He had spent several days staying continually in Keqian, yet without any apparent emergency business that would prevent him from returning to Xijing.

Furthermore, Wen Mingwei had not managed to uncover any rhyme or reason behind the anomalies in the Tan Group, while Tan Zhao himself acted as though he were completely oblivious to it. Since Wen Mingwei didn't bring it up, Tan Zhao never mentioned it either.

The more it was like this, the more patience Wen Mingwei exercised, eagerly anticipating what kind of result Tan Zhao would ultimately deliver to him.

Finally, before the two-month deadline expired, on December 2nd, Tan Zhao took the initiative to speak up.

Over dinner, he asked Wen Mingwei, "Has your batch of munitions transport routes for the end of the year been finalized? Can you give me a route map?"

Wen Mingwei raised his eyes to look at him.

Tan Zhao added, unexpectedly saying, "Faked ones will do. I want to lure Wen Mingzhe out so we can settle things with him once and for all."