Chapter 1429 - A Woman

After showering, he bypassed the dormitory entirely. Instead, he returned to his room, threw on a trench coat, and picked up the PHS from his desk.

Several years had passed since the transmigration. Though the PHS call function hadn't degraded, battery life was all but gone. More and more units had failed entirely. Dr. Zhong had invested considerable effort but found no safe method for refurbishing lithium or NiMH batteries under current conditions—so PHS units with dead batteries had been converted into landlines, wired to glass-encased external batteries the size of thick dictionaries.

Still, the PHS required no telephone lines, featured dedicated numbers without need for switchboard transfers, and offered strong confidentiality. It remained a favored communication tool among the Elders.

Jiang Shan dialed a number.

A woman's voice answered—crisp and bright, but pitched deliberately low, carrying a hint of affected coquettishness.

"Are you asleep?"

"No, I'm working. You know how it is—there's always more than can be finished." She paused, then dropped her voice further. "I was waiting for your call."

"It's one in the morning. You're a night owl."

"I have a pair of green eyes," she laughed.

"How beautiful. Do you have time?"

"Anytime. I can get off work right now. Are you coming over, or...?"

"Go to the old place. I've already notified the guards."

"All right."

"I need to make a few more calls first—there are things I need to discuss with others. Go ahead. I might arrive a little later."

After hanging up, he placed several more calls, scribbled a few lines in pencil on the memo pad, then pulled the bell rope to summon the orderly.

"Prepare the carriage. I'm going out."

Jiang Shan's carriage was on twenty-four-hour standby, available on call without registering through the General Affairs Office duty room—a small privilege granted to powerful, critical departments.

"To Number 3 Lychee Grove," he instructed the driver as he climbed aboard, draping his coat around his shoulders. "Drive a bit faster."

"Yes, Comrade Director."

The Executive Committee had once proposed granting military ranks to Foreign Intelligence Bureau personnel, or "internal service ranks" like those of the Police and Political Security Bureau. Jiang Shan had resolutely refused. He had no desire to become some "Regional Deputy Commander." Did the Director of the CIA hold a military rank?

Number 3 Lychee Grove was the code name for a house in Bairen City—a "workplace" shared by the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, the Political Security Bureau, and the National Police. The Investigation and Execution Bureau of the Legal Tribunal also maintained offices there, though almost no one knew it.

With the driver's hushed cry and the crack of the whip, the carriage turned off the main road onto a cinder path winding through the woods.

Hundreds of lychee trees—ranging in age from decades to over a century—spread their dense canopies overhead, plunging the midnight grove into darkness. Only the safety lanterns burning along the carriage path provided faint illumination.

Jiang Shan pushed aside the rain curtain and watched the driver and guard sitting in the front seat. Both were soldiers of the Lingao Garrison Battalion, wearing cross-slung bandoliers with two modified .45-caliber revolvers—produced by the Machinery Plant to compensate for the insufficient stopping power of the 9mm Model 1632 revolver.

The carriage halted near a two-story red brick building deep in the grove. Jiang Shan stepped down.

"Park the carriage and go rest. I'm spending the night here. Come pick me up at seven tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Comrade Director."

Rather than entering the offices, Jiang Shan walked through the porch and out the back door to a room on the first floor of a smaller building—his dormitory here.

He unlocked the door. Light spilled out.

A faint fragrance filled the room—essential oils distilled from various plants and flowers by Zichengji. They were quite popular in the Guangzhou market, and female Elders and their maids commonly used them as perfume.

He closed the door behind him. The room was modest: a bed, a desk, a two-seater sofa. The shutters were drawn, and a large block of ice rendered the air cool and pleasant. A woman sat at the desk, examining herself in a small round mirror. A makeup bag lay open before her, bottles and jars scattered about.

Nearly five years had passed since their transmigration. In 1633 Lingao, no cosmetics or skincare products from the old time-space remained. These were "luxury goods" manufactured by Zichengji for export—all-natural products with short shelf lives.

"You're here early." The woman set down her compact, turned, and offered a charming smile. "I thought you'd be a while longer."

She was perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight, petite in stature. Because of the heat, most female Elders kept their hair short, but she maintained a thick mane of lustrous black hair. Her features weren't strikingly beautiful, but could fairly be called delicate. With careful makeup and a girlish smile, she appeared younger than her actual age.

"I said just a few phone calls—how much time could that take?" Jiang Shan hung his trench coat behind the door and dropped onto the sofa with a weary smile. "I didn't expect work at the Great Library to be so busy either."

"Look at you." She rose, dragged her chair over to sit opposite him, and rested her chin on its back to look down at him. "Our Great Library is the busiest department in the Council of Elders. Compiling propaganda pamphlets, revising books, translating ancient texts... the work is endless."

She wore a nightgown of fine silk in a modified Hanfu style—flattering to her figure while showing off a pair of beautiful long legs. She sat sideways with legs crossed, the hem riding up to her thighs, revealing just a hint of smooth curve.

Jiang Shan let his gaze trace the contours she displayed. The faint scent of carnations drifted to his nose, stirring something within.

She seemed to sense his thoughts. She wiped behind her ear, brought her finger to her nose, and sniffed. "The scent has faded. You don't like carnations?"

"No—I like them very much." He leaned back languorously on the sofa. "You didn't use this perfume before."

"I noticed you always have carnations in your office and apartment. You must love this flower very much. Perhaps it's connected to a certain woman."

"You are an observant woman."

"A girl's heart is always delicate," she laughed, then suddenly stopped smiling and fixed her gaze on his eyes. "Especially for the man she likes—even the smallest trace makes her a Sherlock Holmes. Would you like a drink?"

"Of course." Jiang Shan answered casually. "So you're saying you like me."

"Otherwise, why would I be here?" She brought drinks, took a bottle of kombucha for herself, and knelt on the chair with her legs curled beneath her—smooth, bare thighs fully exposed to his view. "But I know you don't intend to marry me."

"What exactly are you saying?" Jiang Shan drank a glass of rum with lime juice, his mood strangely pleasant.

"Let me put it this way. I'm not bad-looking. I'm a 'modern' woman—I've watched porn, read erotica, have some sexual experience, and know how to dress to suit a modern man's interests. Compared to a life secretary who offers nothing but her body in silent devotion and with whom you have zero communication—a dull, flavorless existence—I clearly fit your aesthetic tastes better."

"And then?"

"But a beautiful rose can never compare to a whole garden you can pluck at will." She smiled. "You don't pluck now simply because there isn't a flower in the General Affairs Office's garden that you find suitable yet—you're a perfectionist."

"So, as a perfectionist, I give up the rose?"

"If there were only a single rose in a rose garden, wouldn't it be too desolate?"

"Yes—indeed too desolate." Jiang Shan had no desire to discuss this with her. Of course he wouldn't discuss marriage with her. There was no need to examine a decided matter in depth.

"Men are philandering animals," she said, brushing back her hair and sipping kombucha. "Perhaps because spreading genes comes at such low cost for men."

"I don't understand biology. Let alone biosociology."

She gave a charming smile. "I just like this aloof coolness of yours."

"Some call it being out of touch with the masses. Unreasonable."

"Don't you know women subconsciously hate 'nice guys'?"

"That's a sweeping generalization. Many in the Council of Elders are nice guys."

"That's why they're so keen on the creature known as the maidservant."

Jiang Shan did not reply. In truth, he rather agreed with this assessment—but the topic was dangerous. A super AOE taunt, first-class aggro-puller. Not only could he not agree, it was best not to touch the discussion at all.

He never believed in phrases like "heaven knows, earth knows, you know, I know." For some words, two people knowing was already too many. Moreover, the woman before him was not someone who could keep secrets.

"Staying silent when someone is talking, or answering irrelevantly—that's not good breeding, you know."

"Yes, it is impolite. You're quite right. But I don't like this topic. In my view, saying nothing is much better than joining a conversation carelessly."

"Your slickness is really annoying. I thought a man from the upper class—an elite family like yours—would disdain to act like this." She pouted prettily.

"I am not a member of any upper class. Nor am I from any elite family."

"You people always have a tendency to deny your own excellence, to belittle yourselves—I really don't know what you're afraid of." She tilted her head. "According to Director Xiao: you are an out-and-out elitist."