Chapter Five: Visitors from the Provincial Capital (Part Two)

The Songyang Hotel’s exterior is a quintessential display of Western Gothic architecture. The main structure, rising fifty-eight stories, is clad entirely in dazzling, milky-white marble, featuring intricate embedded ornaments.

In keeping with its European stylistic imitation, the hotel’s roof is topped with towering spires. On the northern facade, facing the municipal government building, a massive circular quartz clock, twenty meters in diameter, is embedded into the wall. The three-story podium at the base is elevated, characterized by slender, elongated arched windows and vertical, transparent buttress designs.

The hotel’s first-floor lobby boasts an exceptionally high ceiling. The upper halves of all four walls are lined with semi-elliptical, glass-framed arched windows. Where they meet the floor, double-layered floor-to-ceiling windows of various colors are installed, each pane intricately carved with relief figures and landscapes from classic Western tales. The craftsmanship of the window frames, matching the colorful glass, is exquisite and highly complex. Whether it is the slender “willow-leaf” muntins or the rounded “rose window” tracery, every element complements the surroundings, creating a harmonious effect. The multicolored stained glass creates a mysterious and resplendent atmosphere within the lobby, ensuring perfect lighting while casting an elegant, hazy, and heart-warming glow.

The main entrance is particularly grand. On both sides are lavishly decorated revolving doors, while the center features triple-paneled, double-swing doors made of mahogany, layered one after another. The massive mahogany door panels showcase unique, colorful reliefs; perhaps due to specialized treatment of the wood’s grain during the design phase, a delicate, lingering fragrance permeates the air year-round, exerting an almost hypnotic pull on everyone who enters.

As soon as a guest touches the switch for the revolving doors, the servers and attendants stationed by the central entrance immediately greet them with gentle, friendly gazes. Their precise gestures and soft, pleasant tones instantly bestow upon the guest a profound sense of being respected and admired.

Stepping into the main hall, one is immediately struck by decor rich in the Italian Baroque style. The lobby, over fifteen meters high, features spacious, transparent corridors on either side. Against the inner walls flanking the bar, eight stout columns, wrapped in light-blue-toned granite, stand in an arc. These columns are adorned with abstract human figures in various poses—sitting, contemplating, or dancing in celebration—rendered with layered, orderly craftsmanship and lifelike expressions. The arches connecting the tops of the columns are covered in exquisite reliefs, vividly depicting flying celestial figures in vibrant, breathtaking colors.

Dozens of crystal chandeliers hang from the lobby ceiling like a fleet of UFOs hovering in mid-air, varying in size and height. Even though it is a bright, sunny day outside, the interior remains brilliantly lit. This layout is clearly not just for the sake of illumination, but a deliberate attempt by the designers to cultivate a specific, sought-after ambiance.

The design of the lobby floor is even more impressive. It is paved entirely with square-meter tiles of natural, deep-red textured stone—a material unique to the Songyang region, known as the most prestigious “chicken-blood” stone in the north. The tiles are laid with meticulous uniformity, the diagonal alignments and patterns joined with such precision that the dimensions are flawless. In the brilliant, warm light, everything in the lobby is reflected in its entirety on the gleaming floor. Every time Zhang Maolin visits, he cannot help but pause to admire it; he especially enjoys wandering through the vast hall, savoring a unique sense of comfort that can be felt but never fully articulated.

As the elevator doors closed, Zhang Maolin’s phone rang again. He opened the message:

“Brother Maolin! Have you arrived at the hotel? I’m waiting for you in Room 818—Deming!”

When Zhang Maolin pushed open the door to Room 818, Teng Deming extended a thick, warm hand.

“Oh? Brother, your hand feels smooth and cold? Are you not feeling well?” Zhang Maolin asked, his tone cordial and gentle.

“No, it’s just that seeing you, Vice President Teng, makes this old man nervous! Forgive me; our local team has let you down and smeared your reputation again. As the Secretary of the Commission for Discipline Inspection, I have truly failed in my duty.”

As Zhang Maolin spoke, he kept his head slightly bowed, his peripheral vision scanning the messy bedding on the large double bed. He immediately realized one thing: Teng Deming must have arrived yesterday, or perhaps even earlier—he certainly had not arrived in Songyang this morning.

“My dear brother! That’s not what I wanted to hear the moment we met. If I did, I might as well have just held a party committee meeting at the municipal branch’s conference room to hear the report, right? Haha!” Teng Deming seemed unusually high-spirited, far beyond what Zhang Maolin had anticipated. From the moment he entered until he sat down, Zhang Maolin’s hand was held firmly and enthusiastically by Teng Deming.

“Brother, when you came over just now, who else in the branch knew? Oh, right, I mean besides President Weixin.”

“Aside from President Wang, probably no one. Even my driver doesn’t know that you, President Teng, are summoning your ‘subordinate’ here,” Zhang Maolin replied calmly.

“That’s good, that’s good! Brother Maolin, you truly live up to the title of Discipline Inspection Secretary—cautious in your actions and meticulous in your speech! Your sense of discipline is strong, very strong indeed! Haha,” Teng Deming emphasized with a hint of praise.

“Not at all! If we’re comparing, President Weixin has an even stronger sense of confidentiality. Even I, the person being summoned, only received the notification from President Wang fifteen minutes ago. So, if we’re talking about organizational discipline, I am truly inferior to President Weixin, and even more so to you, President Teng. My apologies!”

Zhang Maolin tried to keep his tone low. At this moment, the chaotic tangle of questions in his mind continued to interfere with his thoughts. In truth, he had long guessed that Teng Deming’s primary purpose was to issue instructions to the Songyang branch leadership regarding the aftermath of the Wen Lu incident. But as for the nuances and the specific cards the other side intended to play, he remained completely in the dark.

“Haha, I actually wanted to invite you over for a gathering last night, but President Weixin stopped me. He said you’d been working too hard lately and shouldn’t stay up any longer! Look at that—old Wang truly keeps you in his heart! Haha. In the current Songyang municipal leadership, only you, my friend, are the triple-dynasty veteran of this land. So, the burden on your shoulders is more than just the weight of a Discipline Inspection Secretary. What do they call it? ‘An old steed in the stable still aspires to gallop a thousand miles,’ right? Hahaha…”

Teng Deming raised his arms, palms upward above his head, striking a pose resembling a clumsy attempt at the Yi Jin Jing. To the observer, the awkward movement evoked the image of a gorilla stretching. Though it was comical, for Zhang Maolin at this moment, there was no room for such amusement.

Zhang Maolin felt a bit dizzy. Teng Deming’s entire demeanor and behavior were completely contrary to the various scenarios he had played out on the way over. During the fifteen-minute drive, Zhang Maolin had steeled himself—no matter how devious or eccentric the way Teng Deming chose to attack, he would have to face it, even endure it! Aside from enduring, he had no other viable option. Before this high-ranking official from the provincial branch, he had to fully manifest the “state of mind” of someone who is “swallowing grievances, bearing humiliation, and suffering the insufferable.” Not only must he endure, he had to do so naturally, appropriately, and gracefully. In short, he had to make Teng Deming feel that he had come to pay his respects with a heart truly prepared to offer a humble apology.

Zhang Maolin had basically settled on this thought: after a brief exchange, his judgment was that Wang Weixin and Teng Deming had already been in contact, meaning the key aspects of this visit had already been settled. Wang Weixin’s arrangement for him to come early in the morning to receive “teachings” was nothing more than a routine formality to experience the “concern” or “guidance” of this provincial vice president. Therefore, there was no need to engage in any substantive discussion. Most importantly, before a high-level leader who valued face more than life itself, he had to appear timid and subservient to satisfy the other party’s appetite.

Zhang Maolin knew that he had to fully understand Teng Deming’s actual intent before making any further plans. He judged that the provincial vice president was almost certainly here for the Wen Lu incident, which was exactly what he had been hoping for. For days, he had been agonizingly waiting for the provincial branch to step in and resolve the matter. He knew that compared to his own urgent anticipation, the Tao family must be feeling it even more intensely. However, the unexpected “pink” pleasantries from the vice president had truly disrupted his psychological preparation. He could not fathom how, given the earth-shattering disaster that had struck the Songyang Xing Shang Bank, the vice president in charge of credit could still be so carefree and chatty. In Zhang Maolin’s view, this brilliant “performance” was absolutely not a reflection of Teng Deming’s true personality—absolutely not!

Based on his complete and accurate understanding of Teng Deming in the past, he could judge his intentions with more certainty than he could predict the weather of the previous day.