After finishing his conversation with Du Youling, Mu Jingyao walked past her toward the small meeting room.
Secretary Chen was standing guard at the door of the small meeting room. Seeing him approach, he gave a slight nod. “Young Master Mu, President Mu is waiting for you inside.”
“Thank you, Secretary Chen.” Mu Jingyao nodded politely and stepped inside after Secretary Chen opened the door.
At this moment, only Mu Linjiang remained in the meeting room. Hearing the door open, he took off his Reading Lens, set it down beside the documents, and leaned back against his chair.
“You’re ten minutes late.”
“I ran into Youling in the hallway and chatted for a bit.” Mu Jingyao pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
Mu Linjiang’s gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then he pushed a bound document across the table to Mu Jingyao, getting straight to the point. “The groundwater testing report for North City Port from ten years ago—the draft retained by the Jiangcheng office doesn’t match the official version archived at the municipal bureau. Someone swapped out key data along the way.”
Mu Jingyao took the document and flipped through a couple of pages, his brow furrowing more and more tightly.
He wasn’t from an industrial background and wasn’t particularly well-versed in the technical details of environmental testing, but the discrepancy between the two sets of data in the report was too obvious—even an outsider could spot the problem at a glance.
“Can we find out who handled it?”
“The signing assessor responsible for the project that year was a man named Zhang San. He resigned from the Jiangcheng office three years ago and later went to HK, where he took a position at a British-backed environmental assessment firm. Last week, someone approached him in HK, and three days later, he changed all his contact information.”
“In other words, someone got there faster than we did.” Mu Jingyao closed the document and looked up at Mu Linjiang.
“That’s not all. The private test report attached to the whistleblower letter is signed by a current executive of the Mu Group. I had Secretary Chen verify the handwriting—it’s Mu Yuanzhou.”
Mu Jingyao’s expression changed instantly.
Mu Yuanzhou, the second son of the third branch of the Mu family, vice president of the Mu Group, in charge of the port and logistics division, and the nominal head of the North City Port project.
If that private test report from ten years ago really bore his signature, it meant the landmine at North City Port had been planted by someone within the Mu family from the very beginning.
Someone had prepared this trap ten years ago, waiting to drop it on Mu Linjiang’s head today.
“Uncle, are you saying that Third Granduncle was colluding with outsiders to set this up ten years ago?”
Mu Linjiang said nothing. He turned his head to look out at the darkening sky, his expression obscured and unreadable in the shadows cast by the blinds.
“Ten years ago, North City Port wasn’t under the Mu Group’s name. The land belonged to Hongyuan Group at the time, and Hongyuan Group’s chairman was a man named Fang Baichuan. That name shouldn’t be unfamiliar to you.”
Of course Mu Jingyao was familiar with it. Fang Baichuan had once been a towering figure in Haicheng, controlling nearly a third of the city’s port business for over a decade, at one point overshadowing even the Mu family.
But then, for reasons unknown, Hongyuan Group collapsed with startling speed within just a few years. Fang Baichuan himself was convicted in a smuggling case eight years ago and was still serving his sentence to this day.
After Hongyuan Group dissolved, its most valuable asset—the Phase III land of North City Port—went through several rounds of complex equity restructuring before ultimately being acquired by the Mu Group at auction this year.
“Was the Mu family behind Fang Baichuan’s downfall back then?” Mu Jingyao asked.
“Questions about your father’s generation are best asked of your father.”
Mu Linjiang shifted the topic. “But one thing is certain: although Fang Baichuan is in prison, the people he left outside have never given up on turning things around. And back in the day, his network within the provincial government was denser than the containers stacked in his port.”
Mu Jingyao was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked a question unrelated to North City Port: “Uncle, how long was Youling in your office today?”
“Isn’t your focus drifting a bit off-topic?”
“Not really.” Mu Jingyao met Mu Linjiang’s gaze. “Uncle, I know I have no right to interfere in your personal affairs.”
“But Youling is Ningyang’s sister. She doesn’t carry the Mu name, and she shouldn’t be dragged into these matters. If Fang Baichuan’s people could plant a landmine ten years ago, they can target anyone connected to the Mu family today. If someone discovers she’s been coming in and out of the Mu Group’s offices—”
“She won’t be in danger.” Mu Linjiang cut him off.
Mu Jingyao was taken aback. “You’ve already made arrangements?”
Mu Linjiang didn’t answer. He picked up the Reading Lens from the table, set it back on the bridge of his nose, and opened another document. “Anything else? If not, you can leave.”
Mu Jingyao smiled warmly. “One more thing. Next week is the family dinner between our two households—will you be attending? I don’t mind practicing calling you Auntie a little early.”
Mu Linjiang gave him a faint, indifferent glance. “Get out.”
“Forget I said anything.” Mu Jingyao was about to rise when he added, “Oh, and regarding the North City Port matter—do you need me to bring in people from the culture division to help? I don’t work in industry, but I have a few reliable people under me in both legal and public relations.”
Mu Linjiang lowered his gaze again. “No need. Just keep your own division in check. Since Fang Baichuan’s people can reach all the way to the provincial department, they won’t be fixated on just the North City port project. The government cultural tourism projects Mu’s Culture division has been bidding on lately might not have clean foundations. Run your own checks.”
“Already on it.”
Before leaving, Mu Jingyao couldn’t help asking, “Uncle, if you really do attend the family dinner next week, let me know in advance.”
Mu Linjiang didn’t respond, so Mu Jingyao continued, “So I can mentally prepare myself. After all, having to call a girl six years younger than me ‘Auntie’ isn’t something everyone can face with ease.”
Mu Linjiang shot him a cold look. “Get out.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
Meanwhile, Du Youling was waiting outside the small meeting room.
Five minutes passed. Thirty minutes passed. She watched the sunset outside the window sink inch by inch below the horizon, dyeing the entire corridor in the warm tones of an oil painting.
She wiggled her toes and was just about to stand up and stretch when the meeting room door suddenly opened.
Du Youling immediately sat up straight—but the person who came out wasn’t Mu Linjiang.
Mu Jingyao pulled the door shut behind him and looked up to see her sitting across the corridor.
“You’re still here?”
“You haven’t left either, so why would I be in a hurry?” Du Youling glanced past him, confirming Mu Linjiang hadn’t followed him out, then turned her gaze back to Mu Jingyao. “Are you two done?”
“We’re done.”
“Where’s Mu Linjiang?”
“Still inside. But Youling, I’d still advise you to stay away from Mu Corporation for a while.”
Du Youling had already quietly cracked the door open, and answered dismissively, “Got it, got it.”
Mu Jingyao watched her, shook his head helplessly, and turned toward the elevator.
He took a few steps, then looked back. Du Youling had already slipped half her body through the meeting room door, looking for all the world like a scout preparing to raid enemy headquarters.
He felt a flicker of sympathy for his uncle. Just a flicker.