Give Him an Inch

The sound of the drawer closing was like a gavel coming down on the first round of their bargain, but the taut string in the air did not slacken. Instead, the false warmth made it seem even more eerie.

In the office, Zhao Jianguo wore a forced, official smile and tapped his fingers unconsciously on the desk, trying to regain some control. "Heh, young people take time to adjust when they first come in. We should give them more help and show some humanitarian concern. What's your friend's child's name? Which cell is he in?" He spoke quickly, hoping to keep the conversation firmly within the bounds of "slightly improving conditions" and bring the discussion that had him sitting on pins and needles to an end as soon as possible.

Wang Lei, however, did not answer.

The fawning smile receded from his face like the tide, replaced by an almost numb calm. The nervousness and evasiveness had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a composure whose depths could not be fathomed. The sudden change in his bearing set the alarm bells Zhao Jianguo had only just silenced ringing wildly again.

"Thank you for your understanding, Supervisor Zhao." Wang Lei first offered his thanks in a low voice, as if going through the motions, his tone as flat as though he were reading from a script. Then, as if he had suddenly remembered a trivial matter, he continued in a tone that sounded consultative but brooked no objection. "There's one more thing. To make... communication easier, I may also need a separate room. It doesn't need to be large. Somewhere quiet and fairly private, where no one will disturb us, will do."

"What?!"

The smile froze on Zhao Jianguo's face. His body, which had only just begun to relax, sprang violently from the chair as if he had been electrocuted! He could hardly believe his ears. His eyes bulged, and he pointed at Wang Lei. Extreme shock, outrage at the absurdity, and the humiliation of having someone take a mile when given an inch sent his voice into a different register, and he even blurted out:

"Are you crazy?!"

He had even spoken in English, a measure of how completely he had lost control of his emotions. A separate room? In a detention center? Giving a prisoner special treatment? This was no mere breach of the rules. It was practically digging his own grave on the turf he managed! If the slightest word got out and an opponent got hold of it, the question would no longer be whether he could keep his official's hat. He would be going inside to keep the people he had "looked after" company!

"Wang Lei!" Zhao Jianguo lowered his voice, but anger and fear tangled together, making it hoarse and distorted. "Your heart must really be blinded by lard, your senses bewitched by ghosts! I'm already taking a risk as big as the sky by putting in a word to improve his living conditions, and only for a colleague's sake! And you still want a separate room? What are you planning? A tea party in there?! Do you think the detention center belongs to your family? Or mine?!"

His chest heaved with fury, and his finger nearly jabbed Wang Lei in the nose.

Faced with Zhao Jianguo's rage, Wang Lei's expression did not shift in the slightest. His eyes did not even flicker. He did not so much as glance at the finger nearly poking him in the face. He merely raised his eyelids slightly and met the other man's bloodshot eyes, full of anger and fear, with a calm gaze that held even a trace of pity.

That gaze made Zhao Jianguo's heart palpitate for no apparent reason.

Then Wang Lei spoke. His voice was still quiet, but like a thin blade tempered in ice, it precisely, slowly sliced through Zhao Jianguo's last psychological defense:

"Supervisor Zhao, please don't get worked up." His tone carried even a hint of helplessness, as if he were soothing a foolish child who nevertheless held a powerful weapon. "Look, as for the director's wife... haven't you 'arranged' things quite nicely for her too? I hear... she hasn't been in a good mood lately and often goes to the Tranquil Mind Garden, a local high-end leisure club, to relax. And you got her a VIP card? How very thoughtful of you."

"..."

Zhao Jianguo's hand, still pointing at Wang Lei, came to an abrupt halt in midair, as if suddenly frozen by invisible ice. The anger, the roar, every trace of color drained from his face in an instant, leaving only a bone-deep pallor and terror, as though he had seen a ghost.

The director's wife!

It wasn't about helping arrange a physical examination! It was... it was the filthy business between him and the director's wife that absolutely could never see the light of day! The Tranquil Mind Garden! The VIP card! Those details... this Wang Lei... what on earth was he?! How did he even know about that?! This was no longer about his official's hat. It was about his life! If the director found out... he could scarcely imagine the consequences!

An icy chill shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, leaving every limb and bone stiff and cold. Before this little prison guard, who was meek and submissive on ordinary days, he felt he was no longer merely naked. He had been seen through from head to toe, inside and out, with even his filthiest, most secret corners turned out and exposed to the sun!

Wang Lei watched him go to pieces in an instant, looking ready to collapse, and knew the last straw had landed, crushing all his resistance. He stopped pressing him and instead leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice further. With the eerie understanding that "we each have our finger on the other's nuclear button," he said:

"Supervisor Zhao, we both understand the situation. Do each other a favor, and we can both get by, can't we? It's only an unused storeroom or an abandoned tool shed. Have it cleaned regularly and put a lock on it, and no one will notice. For you, it's just a matter of saying the word. Everyone... stays safe."

Zhao Jianguo stood frozen in place like a statue of clay or wood. It seemed a long time passed, yet also only an instant. The muscles in his face twitched violently and uncontrollably, and his eyes were full of horror, struggle, despair, and immense humiliation. Fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead and slid down his pale cheeks.

In the end, all those emotions turned into utter dejection and compromise, with no power left to turn the tide. His pointing hand fell limply to his side. Far from losing his temper, he seemed drained of all strength, yet also as though he had seized his last life-saving straw. He suddenly stepped forward, grabbed Wang Lei's hand, and shook it up and down vigorously, almost greedily.

A smile spread across his face again with almost comical speed, ten times warmer and a hundred times more amiable than before, as though Wang Lei were a brother of another surname, long separated from him and finally reunited!

"Oh! Look at you! My dear Wang! Brother Wang! Why didn't you say so earlier? If you had, there wouldn't have been any trouble! I got worked up for nothing!" He patted the back of Wang Lei's hand with immense warmth, his tone exaggerated and affectionate. "Caring for young prisoners' mental health, helping them get through their detention smoothly, reform actively, and turn over a new leaf-that's one of our important duties in the first place! I overlooked it! I didn't think it through!"

He pulled Wang Lei along, almost half dragging him to the detailed floor plan of the detention center hanging on one wall of the office. Beaming, he ran his finger eagerly over it:

"Come, come, my good brother! Let's make a proper plan right now! Which room would be suitable? It needs to be absolutely quiet, so it won't disturb anyone, and safe too, and convenient for us to... uh... have 'heart-to-heart talks' and provide 'counseling'! What do you think of this one? It used to be a little reading room, but the books were moved out and it was left unused. It's out of the way; not even a ghost goes there normally. Old Liu in logistics has the key. I can get it with a written note..."

Sunlight slanted through the office window, falling on their tightly clasped hands, each concealing his own designs, and on Zhao Jianguo's face, so warm it was almost fawning. Yet it seemed to carry a chill that could freeze blood.

The game of power had always been like this. When you held a secret that could damn the other person beyond redemption, all rules, bottom lines, and dignity could be placed on the negotiating table and given a clearly marked price.