Fang Weixian, director of the district's Intelligence Management Center, was already seventy this year and considered to be serving beyond his term.
He had once been very fat, but his health had deteriorated over the past two years, and he had wasted away. The flesh on his cheeks sagged. He habitually pursed his lips and knitted his brows, the wrinkles and the ends of his jaw forming a distinct large triangle. When he spoke, his nostrils flared as if stretched to their limit, and his voice was hoarse and unpleasant, as though a gravely ill man were stubbornly sitting here, with every word draining all his strength.
"Xiude."
"Old Fang."
Wu Xiude appeared exceptionally respectful as that hoarse voice slowly reached his ears.
"Whether it's the intelligence sources or what Shanchuan said, Wu Yi, that bargain daughter, is undoubtedly coming for me. Zou Ming is absent at the moment, and the High-Energy Center is a complete mess, full of buck-passing..."
"Old Fang, rest assured. I will naturally give it my all on my end."
"You know that isn't what I mean." Fang Weixian chuckled vaguely twice. "Those standing armies of yours spend their days fighting over turf and smuggling goods. They're reasonably capable when dealing with ordinary civilians, but against someone like this, they're meaningless... I mean that place."
Fang Weixian glanced to the side. The one-way glass did not obstruct the view from inside. From this angle, he could see the floor-to-ceiling display screen at the edge of the Command Center, showing a real-time exterior view of the building. Night had already fallen. The courtyard was well lit, but farther out, nothing could be seen clearly.
Wu Xiude understood immediately, because Fang Weixian had already hinted at it before he came.
Beyond the edge of the illuminated area, he