Chapter Three: The Disciplinary Secretary’s Concerns (Part Two)

On a winter evening in Songyang, the outdoors offered little in the way of pleasing sights.

Zhang Maolin, troubled and restless, listlessly took a few hurried sips of corn grits porridge, barely soothing his appetite. Then he lay back on the fabric sofa, waiting for Tao Kan’s call. At this moment, this was the sole, burning hope in his heart.

Eventually, Zhang Maolin received a text message from Tao Kan, sent from the provincial capital:

“Uncle! I’ve been busy all day at the funeral home, surrounded by people and matters nonstop, so it’s really inconvenient to talk. My father has made up his mind; he will return to Songyang tomorrow. We can discuss the details face to face then…”

Zhang Maolin hadn’t expected such a perfunctory message after his eager anticipation. After a brief pause, he donned his reading glasses and replied to Tao Kan’s text:

“All right! Try to get a copy of the traffic police’s on-site report and the forensic autopsy. A photocopy will do. I know this is difficult; if you can’t manage it, contact me again. I have an old comrade working in the provincial government office who might be able to help. These two reports are very important! Do not casually discuss the details of the Wen Lu case with others, nor reveal your own views. Trust that the organization will handle it properly…”

The aroma of Tieguanyin tea wafted gently from the purple clay teapot, soon filling every corner of the study.

Tao Shouli lounged lazily in a noticeably sagging corner of the sofa. The sunken temples, mottled with age spots, looked even more hollow and withered. His temples, streaked with silver among the dark hair, appeared thick under the dim overhead light, as if dusted with frost.

Zhang Maolin lowered his head in silence, slowly peeling an apple.

A heaviness pressed on his chest, and several times he opened his mouth only to hesitate. After studying Tao Shouli’s face intently for a long moment, he finally managed to say:

“Shouli, what’s the attitude of the provincial bank? Tao Kan didn’t mention it in his message last night. But from what I know, it seems many people are paying attention to the Wen Lu matter.”

Tao Shouli’s throat was so hoarse he could barely speak. To answer Zhang Maolin, he kept taking small sips of water.

“It’s not just a feeling—it’s true. This surprised me as well. In the past two days, besides many directors who attended, several provincial bank presidents also came to express condolences. Unfortunately, except for Vice President Teng Deming, I hardly recognized any other leaders. It shows that since my retirement, the provincial bank’s leadership has changed significantly. So, the socializing at the funeral was handled entirely by Tao Ye and Tao Kan, the siblings. Wen Lu’s parents traveled all the way from Tangshan to mourn; they could do nothing but weep. What’s worse, both elderly parents suffer from serious chronic illnesses. Tao Ye feared any further accidents might befall them, so early the next morning he arranged a car to send them home.”

Taking the tea cup handed by Zhang Maolin, Tao Shouli continued:

“Vice President Teng has been asking me a lot of questions. After all, he’s a fellow Songyang native. He speaks well and with warmth, befitting a senior official! But what frightened me was Teng’s ‘smile.’ Our hometown people haven’t seen such a smile for years, and it was so out of place! At the funeral home that day, Tao Ye was crying like a waterfall, yet Teng Deming came over smiling and shook his hand! How could such a ‘people-friendly’ gesture seem so strange, even cruel?! Though I’ve been retired for years and don’t know the inside details, the top brass of the provincial bank surely haven’t evolved to this degree! How prosperous must the bank’s performance be to make a bureau-level official so gleeful at an employee’s funeral? As a family member, I cannot understand or accept Vice President Teng’s behavior…”

Color flushed Tao Shouli’s pale cheek.

“A senior official! What kind of senior official is he? He started out just like any ordinary loan officer around us! Back in the late 1980s, when I was branch manager, Teng Deming was just a clerk who smiled politely at everyone. Enough about others—let’s talk about the present. Old Tao, what does your family think about handling the aftermath of Wen Lu’s case?”

Zhang Maolin casually picked up a fig from the fruit plate. He deliberately controlled his tone and pace; he understood well that calming the atmosphere was crucial when discussing the matter with Tao Shouli.

Tao Shouli sighed deeply:

“Who can really explain? When the accident happened, Wen Lu was the driver and had been drinking. You know how helpless and foolish that makes him. What’s hardest to understand is that there was a young woman in the car, reportedly a hostess from a nightclub. That news has spread like wildfire. Though there were other men in the car, this is still a hard truth to swallow! Wen Lu was a respectable bank officer; he really can’t afford this stain on his reputation.”

Tao Shouli’s face showed embarrassment and shame. He avoided Zhang Maolin’s gaze, tormented by deep grief.

Zhang Maolin asked:

“Can you tell me who identified that woman as a nightclub hostess?”

Tao Shouli hesitated, looking down before replying:

“That? I don’t know. A lot of people say so.”

Zhang Maolin pressed further:

“How many people? Who exactly are they? Have they seen the woman?”

Tao Shouli answered:

“Actually, it was just Tao Kan himself who told me that many people were spreading the rumor. We haven’t seen the girl’s face ourselves. I heard she’s being treated in the hospital and is no longer in critical condition. The part I find most confusing is that Wen Lu was going to the provincial bank on business, yet he left our city branch’s driver, Geng Zhi, behind and got into another car. Then the drunk driving and accident happened. None of this fits Wen Lu’s character! Don’t get me wrong—if it were my son Tao Kan who did something stupid like this, I could understand. But I absolutely don’t believe my son-in-law would be so reckless!”

Tao Shouli spoke with conviction.

“Then why didn’t you and Tao Kan ask the driver, Geng Zhi, for details?” Zhang Maolin inquired.

Tao Shouli replied:

“We did. Little Geng has been with us these days. He and Tao Kan are close friends. According to Geng, when they arrived at the provincial bank parking lot, the Kanghong Group office car was already waiting. Everything seemed prearranged. Wen Lu never went into the bank building or told Geng anything; he just jumped into the Kanghong car and sped off! Geng didn’t even have anyone to look after him at lunch. You see, that scoundrel Wen Lu…”

Tao Shouli wept openly.

Zhang Maolin listened quietly, analyzing every important detail. He realized that Wang Weixin had originally assigned him to handle communication with Wen Lu’s family and the aftermath, effectively locking him in Songyang so he couldn’t leave for any reason. This meant all information he received was hearsay. Zhang Maolin sensed that following this line of thought would soon lead to blind spots and dead ends in understanding.

At this moment, Zhang Maolin knew there was no better way to comfort the deeply grieving Tao Shouli. For a man of his age, such a shock inflicted terrible damage to body and soul; self-recovery alone was cruel and unrealistic.

Listening was the best choice now—to let this lifelong friend pour out his heart and ease his pain. Besides, Zhang Maolin needed Tao Shouli’s account desperately, hoping he would reveal every moment of their days in the provincial capital. He needed to understand.

Tao Shouli’s recounting was fragmented, even incoherent at times. Zhang Maolin increasingly realized his own heart and eyes had been clouded, drifting further from the truth behind Wen Lu’s case.

By now, Zhang Maolin could almost conclude that Wang Weixin’s order for him to stay in Songyang was motivated by some special consideration. Zhang Maolin had suspected as much; he knew that during the handling of this incident, he should have been the one to step forward and give the Tao family and all the Songyang branch employees a proper explanation. He regretted not standing his ground or refusing Wang Weixin’s significant demands when the work was assigned. Now, he was little more than an uninformed onlooker. The tangled turmoil in his heart grew stronger.

…

The meeting with Tao Shouli had fallen far short of Zhang Maolin’s expectations. Apart from confirming that Wen Lu’s drunk driving caused the accident, no other useful information emerged. Zhang Maolin had hoped to learn specific details, but Tao Shouli was unable to provide any clarity, leaving Zhang Maolin’s analysis back at square one.

Before him, Tao Shouli did not hide his sorrow, repeatedly expressing the deep father-in-law and son-in-law bond he had shared with Wen Lu, tears streaming when he spoke of his heartbreak. Seeing this, Zhang Maolin quickly changed the subject and called the community restaurant downstairs to order braised eggplant, spicy tofu, and steamed buns.

After a simple meal with Tao Shouli and some gentle words of comfort, Zhang Maolin made a polite excuse about having to check in on the branch’s duty phone and left abruptly.

Zhang Maolin was baffled. Given Tao Shouli’s usually cautious, meticulous nature and strong analytical ability, he should have long understood the ins and outs of Wen Lu’s sudden crisis, but evidently, this assumption was false.

Now, Zhang Maolin’s only hope was for Tao Kan to return from the provincial capital to Songyang as soon as possible. He especially hoped Tao Kan could secure the professional reports related to Wen Lu’s vehicle accident.