THE FIRST RAYS OF DAWN stung Tao Ran’s eyes so harshly that he almost couldn’t open them. After his colleagues came to relieve him, he carelessly dusted off the dirt and soil that covered him, then got into a nearby car.
Inside the vehicle, his phone vibrated; Chang Ning had sent a photo over. It showed Chenchen lying in her arms, gripping the corner of Chang Ning’s shirt tightly and doing her best to smile for the camera.
The doctor says that Chenchen’s wounds are minor, so she can leave the hospital. My aunt wants to thank you properly. Can we have you and your colleagues over for a meal sometime?
For the first time, Tao Ran didn’t reply to his crush immediately. He’d fallen asleep with the phone in his hand.
Fei Du returned to his office in a taxi. Before the workday began, he signed the documents as he’d promised to Miss Miao, then spent some time sitting alone in his tastefully designed office.
This had previously been the senior Fei-zong’s office. Outside, there was a reception area for guests with a wine cabinet hidden in the wall. Next to that were floor-to-ceiling shelves. The top shelves housed a large collection of literary antiques, from scrolls made of lambskin vellum and silk to bamboo slips. The bottom shelves displayed the elder Fei-zong’s expensive watch collection.
The other wall was covered entirely by a glass display cabinet full of ancient weaponry, including a waist-sheathed saber that had supposedly belonged to an emperor. Its handle was exquisite and elegant, and despite its age, the blade remained as bright as snow. Under the cabinet’s cold light, it seemed to hunger to break free of the glass and sate its bloodlust.
At the center of a sofa set was a round showcase about four and a half feet tall. Inside, a collection of out-of-circulation coins formed a ring around a tiny display case, which contained three years’ worth of winning pieces from an international jewelry design competition—only three years’ worth, because by the fourth year, the comatose collector had been sent to a care home in Binhai.
This miniature museum of a reception area always stunned first-time guests to Fei Du’s office. After lingering here long enough, they could feel the desire for money, the lust for power, the ambition and hunger bursting out of their every open pore. The reception area was distinct from the office, and the little passageway linking them was only wide enough for one. The clever bend in the passageway prevented light from the office from reaching the reception area. Two of the office walls contained small ventilating windows, and the back wall was floor-to-ceiling glass that provided a panoramic view of most of Yancheng. Below, the slow crawl of traffic and ant-like pedestrians were visible to the naked eye.
Fei Du rose and unlocked a filing cabinet to extract a slim folder. The folder contained a few contracts, a financial report, and briefs on fluctuations in significant assets; it was for a partnership between the Fei Corporation and the Bright Foundation, established while Fei Du’s father was in charge. Fei Du’s father had not only collaborated with this foundation, he’d even made regular donations to one of their charity funds.
Their contract had since expired, however, and the partnership came to a natural end without the foundation seeking to renew it.
A project proposal entitled “Transforming Binhai’s Ocean Resources into a Tourist Paradise: Building China’s Own Maldives” sat at the very bottom of the stack of documents in the folder. This was one of the projects the Bright Foundation had been interested in and asked the Fei Corporation to put money into. The board—under Fei Du’s father’s control—had refused on the basis that it would require too much capital without a well-established method of generating profits. Thus, the venture was abandoned.
“Binhai…” Fei Du underlined the name heavily with the cap of his pen.
There were three main factors to consider when dumping a body.