It was still early when they returned from the military area.

However, today was a Friday, and there wasn’t much to do in the afternoon, especially for a new official taking office. Jiang Xiaochuan was occupied with work handovers and reviewing the mess left behind by his predecessor.

Chengzhou, a provincial capital city, had its fair share of criminal activity, but the reports issued annually by the departments under his purview were typically quite ordinary, all stating that the city’s public security was good and the like. Jiang Xiaochuan found it tedious to peruse these reports, as he had practically memorized the content. Consequently, he swiftly signed them and was done in a short time.

As dusk descended, everyone left the government office building. Jiang Xiaochuan gathered his belongings, preparing to depart.

He intended to make the most of the weekend and finally deal with the watch. It might not seem like a significant matter, but he was apprehensive that the watch could gradually pull him into an abyss, eroding him bit by bit. That was the truly terrifying part.

The previous year, the National People’s Congress had issued a strict mandate prohibiting the use of official vehicles for commuting outside work. However, many individuals conveniently disregarded this regulation. Transporting officials outside work was considered a private use of official vehicles. Although most officials and the media didn’t pay much attention to this issue, Jiang Xiaochuan knew that many eyes were on him.

Even as a corrupt official, he wasn’t foolish enough to use an official car for his daily commute.

He took the bus back home.

As a newly elected deputy mayor, many aspects of his accommodations were still pending. He had only been allocated an official car today, and it was likely that the housing matter would be put on hold for a while. If they were department-level cadres, they could enjoy a relatively independent small building.

He strolled past the doorman, who seemed momentarily surprised but likely recalled that he was the newly appointed deputy mayor. Jiang Xiaochuan paid little attention and swiftly returned to his modest abode.

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The aroma of food wafted from the kitchen, indicating that his father was busy preparing a meal.

His father typically didn’t have many hobbies. In his later years, he immersed himself in cooking, watched military channels, and occasionally took a stroll. However, in this government compound, it might be challenging to find suitable conversational partners.

Jiang Xiaochuan stood at the kitchen door, observing his father’s hunched figure in silence.

He returned to his room, opened the drawer, and there lay the watch, gleaming with an air of aristocracy and scorn.

He withdrew a pen from the holder and unfurled a sheet of writing paper. The tip of the aged pen grazed the paper, sipping a little fresh ink. His fingers made a faint start, as if to write a word, but he immediately halted. He hesitated.

The fear in his heart remained inexpressible. Self-examination equated to self-incrimination. What would be the consequences then?

Furthermore, this letter was intended for submission to the Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection.

Corruption was pervasive throughout the entire province. The reports from the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection and Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection, consistently depicted the situation as normal.

It was challenging to believe that there were no issues within the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection, and Jiang Xiaochuan was highly skeptical.

The implementation of the cross-appointment system for officials meant that top leaders in each city were not native to that city, but this didn’t apply to the province. Central Commission for Discipline Inspection at all levels could investigate officials from administrative districts lower than the Commission’s jurisdiction.

If an investigation into Jiang Xiaochuan were to happen, it would likely involve people from the Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection.

However, Jiang Xiaochuan was on the path to becoming the governor of the province. He was well aware of the dynamics within the provincial party committee and government. When the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection had pursued several officials, the Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection had also been implicated.

Unfortunately, he had been in prison at the time, and the specifics of who was investigated were unclear. No one had been inclined to disclose this information to him since he was considered a dying man.

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Jiang Xiaochuan had initially considered writing a self-examination letter to the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection to provide a comprehensive account of his situation. Now, he deemed this idea was virtually impossible to execute.

The corruption issue within the province had reached such an alarming level that he knew, upon becoming governor, he would be stepping into a chaotic situation.

While he had desired to submit a self-examination letter, he feared that if the individuals at the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection who received the letter had their own issues, presenting such a letter would essentially be inviting disaster.

No one knew the extent of Rong Shaobai’s connections within the municipal and provincial governments, and Jiang Xiaochuan didn’t dare to take such a colossal risk. Once word got out about the existence of the self-examination letter, his personal safety would be uncertain.

Many times, he had no choice but to endure and wait for the opportune moment.

If he remembered correctly, a young man named Lian Cheng would arrive for a work inspection on behalf of the Central Discipline Inspection in less than a month.

Working at the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection had always been viewed unfavorably.

Huang Kecheng once said when the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection was established, “We’re not afraid of removal from office, not afraid of divorce, not afraid of expulsion from the party, not afraid of imprisonment and beheading…”

However, later, it was humorously added, “Don’t be afraid of disbanding, and don’t be afraid of having no one send a wreath after death.”

Zhang Qing, the deputy secretary of the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection who had overseen his case in his previous life, was a prime example. He had faced severe backlash from the individuals he investigated but persevered.

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These days, no one dreamed to take the civil service examination wanted to end up at the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection. The government’s national examination would begin in a few days, and Jiang Xiaochuan wondered what the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection would do.

He shook his head, set aside the pen, crumpled the paper into a ball, and tossed it into the drawer.

Perhaps it was better to write it another day when he had made a decision.

On a day when the situation at the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection wasn’t murky and uncertain, he would dare to write. Some things had to remain locked within his mind, concealed from prying eyes.

After sharing a meal with Jiang Encheng, he insisted on washing the dishes, donning an apron and tending to the chore. Sometimes, these simple actions provided him with a reassuring sense of stability.

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The following morning, Jiang Xiaochuan left the house early.

Dressed casually in a white baseball cap and a small backpack, Jiang Xiaochuan took a car to the city shooting range.

Jiang Encheng, a veteran of the Vietnam War, had always hoped that his son would have some knowledge of weapons and firearms. Jiang Xiaochuan had been influenced by his father’s interests since childhood and had developed a deep love for firearms.

Despite later pursuing studies in law and finance, when it came to his true passion, it was undeniably firearms.

The shooting range still allowed live ammunition shooting with regular bullets. When he registered, he selected a .45 caliber Browning pistol. After completing the registration process and collecting his equipment, he was led to the indoor shooting range.

As he loaded the bullet and felt the traces left by the metal-cased round on his fingertips, he couldn’t help but recall the pale blue sky at the shooting range.

After loading the bullet, chambering the round, and taking aim, every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation of the moment the bullet would leave the barrel.

He wore earmuffs but opted not to use protective glasses, allowing his vision to be sharper than ever.

A black dot appeared on the concentric target ring, landing in the seven-ring.

It seemed like his accuracy was off.

He chuckled wryly; after all, a pistol had recoil, and his hand’s webbing was slightly numb. Plus, not having practiced for three days might have contributed to his performance.

Standing upright, he examined the target from a distance, lost in thought.

While earmuffs dampened the gunfire’s noise, they also hindered his own hearing…

As a result, he didn’t hear the distinct sound of footsteps approaching, echoing off the floor, gradually drawing nearer.

It was quite surprising to encounter this individual again so soon.

Just a day had passed since he had thought about him, and now he was seeing him in person. Could this be considered fate?

Today, Yue Qingci was dressed in civilian attire, not his usual officer’s uniform, suggesting he had come to the shooting range for target practice, much like Jiang Xiaochuan.

He wore a white T-shirt and a simple light blue jacket, though he had zipped it all the way up to the collar, a somewhat exaggerated look. Off-white casual pants completed his outfit, giving him the appearance of an ordinary person rather than a major in the military region.

The change in attire softened his sharp eyebrows and eyes. At first glance, his overall presence wasn’t as striking.

A person’s demeanor could shift with the context.

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Jiang Xiaochuan appeared to be in an odd state.

After firing one shot and preparing to reload, he struggled more and more as he did so. Despite improving his accuracy and consistently hitting the target’s ninth ring, the act of reloading had become progressively strenuous.

Yue Qingci could even hear the metal parts colliding, each sound louder than the previous.

This wasn’t how one typically handled firearms, especially not with a Browning.

Yue Qingci found it hard to watch and sensed that Jiang Xiaochuan was using his time at the shooting range to release pent-up emotions.

His marksmanship was impeccable, but he appeared repressed and concealed.

In that moment, Yue Qingci formulated an assessment of Jiang Xiaochuan’s character.

Jiang Xiaochuan seemed like a tightly wound string, his lips pressed into a stern line, a faint hint of intensity gathering between his eyebrows.

His grip was unwavering, but the force he exerted while reloading grew heavier.

The cold sensation left on him as the bullet passed through the chamber…

He thought of his own death.

He fired another shot, hitting the nine-ring once more.

It was the final bullet in the magazine. His hand moved to load another round, but this time, before he could complete the action, someone firmly restrained his hand.

His brow furrowed, and he turned back with a cold intensity in his eyes. However, when he saw Yue Qingci, he was momentarily puzzled. Why was he here?

Yet, Yue Qingci’s own brows were knit even tighter than Jiang Xiaochuan’s, and, witnessing the intensity in his eyes, he felt a strange, somewhat rebellious urge. In silence, he gently held Jiang Xiaochuan’s hand, preventing him from continuing with the reloading.

Jiang Xiaochuan couldn’t comprehend his intentions and removed his earmuffs.

In one swift and practiced motion, he loaded the gun, making a smooth and near-silent “pop” sound. It was a skill that only seasoned marksmen possessed, as Jiang Encheng had once told him.

Jiang Xiaochuan remained silent, studying him with a searching gaze.

Yue Qingci, however, completed the loading but didn’t return the firearm. Instead, he positioned himself where Jiang Xiaochuan had been standing, assumed a firing stance, stared straight ahead, and commented, “Mayor Jiang, your shooting skills are commendable, but your loading skills need improvement.”

Jiang Xiaochuan opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by the sudden eruption of gunfire.

“Bang!”

The shot resounded loudly, and the noise reverberated throughout the shooting range, even piercing the specially constructed sound-absorbing walls. The silencing effect was incomplete.

It landed in the ten-ring, demonstrating excellent marksmanship.

Jiang Xiaochuan watched intently for a moment and then turned his attention to Yue Qingci, who still held the weapon. “Major Yue, your marksmanship is truly impressive. I hold it in high regard.”

Yue Qingci grinned, gestured by hooking his finger, and handed the firearm back to Jiang Xiaochuan with a playful smile. “Mayor Jiang, no offense, but I just couldn’t bear to see you mishandling this fine weapon.”

Jiang Xiaochuan chuckled softly. He accepted the pistol, examining the unguarded smile on Yue Qingci’s face. Suddenly, it felt like everything could be overturned.

In this moment, Yue Qingci appeared almost boyishly gentle.

What an honest word, Jiang Xiaochuan thought. The man just casually reminding him about his poor weapon handling.

The old Yue Qingci in his memory actually had such a candid side.