Qi Maorong had been standing there for over ten minutes, but he did not dare move a muscle.
None of the reprimands or furious scoldings he had expected came. There was not even a word of criticism.
Yet the director's fingers tapping on the desk felt like a hammer pounding relentlessly against his heart, making it race so violently that he could barely breathe.
He had never felt this heart-stopping pressure from Cao Zhi, much less from Qiu Weiping or Wang Guozhong. He could guarantee that even meeting the city leaders would not have left him this anxious and flustered.
What the hell was going on?
"Director, this was all due to my poor supervision..." Qi Maorong swallowed with difficulty and stammered out an admission of fault.
The tapping stopped abruptly.
When he met the director's suddenly icy gaze, Qi Maorong's heart trembled, and he instinctively fell silent.
Then he heard words that sent a bone-deep chill through his entire body.
"You can go."
Qi Maorong's face instantly drained of color.
The Chinese language was rich and profound. The same sentence could mean entirely different things in different contexts.
In this situation, the director's "You can go" was certainly not as simple as telling him to leave the office. There was a ninety-nine percent chance it meant he should pack his things and get out for good.
Although removing him from his post required a decision from the city authorities, Zhou Yi's opinion, as head of the Public Security Bureau, undoubtedly carried enormous weight.
No, he had to find Qiu Weiping right away. He could not take the blame for this alone.
If those people stood by and let him be dismissed, they could not blame him for turning against them.
As Qi Maorong left the director's office, he