The next morning, at ten o'clock.
In a hotel by Sword River, a rented room had been temporarily converted into a conference room. Morning sunlight streamed down.
In the courtyard outside the window, flowers bloomed and birds sang.
Behind the desk, Ai Qing looked at the application Huai Shi had submitted and suddenly felt that some unlucky brats ought to be thrown into the fires of hell...
Smack.
The document was placed back on the desk.
"Are you serious?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Huai Shi nodded and asked doubtfully, "Is there something wrong with the format?"
Ai Qing said nothing. Her fingers merely tapped against Huai Shi's application.
"No. Your formatting is complete. The font, point size, punctuation, and wording are all flawless."
If Huai Shi had not written and printed it right in front of her, she would have suspected that he had found someone from the Decision Room secretariat to ghostwrite it.
"Did I phrase something inaccurately?" Huai Shi asked again.
"The meaning is clear and direct. There's no ambiguity, nor any room for someone to twist it into a misunderstanding." Ai Qing considered it, then nodded. "It's quite well written."
It was not remarkable, nor did it need to be. There was nothing especially striking or dramatic about it. In a word, it was standard—so standard it might as well have been written at the doorstep of the Decision Room.
"It's just that you understand what you're doing, right?" Ai Qing looked at Huai Shi and asked seriously.
Huai Shi nodded. "Fulfilling my authority and responsibilities."
Ai Qing understood at once. "Russell's idea?"
"No, mine."
Huai Shi shook his head. "But he won't object."
Far from objecting—if the agreement between himself and Liu Dongli had truly had nothing to do with him, how could Liu Dongli's call have