Chapter Forty-One: The Little Rascal and the Mayor

This was a mysterious organization shrouded in layers of mist. Every one of its members was a warrior endowed with extraordinary abilities. They were a band of unsung heroes waging their battles in the shadows, the Zorros of China.

Jiang Hong, the director of the Municipal Policy Research Office, also served as the chief editor of the Yangjiang Bulletin. As its name suggested, the Policy Research Office was responsible for drafting speeches for each major conference and formulating documents after policy changes, all in accordance with the leaders’ intentions. Though this role could not fully utilize Jiang Hong’s talents, he still performed every task with meticulous dedication, adhering to his principle that responsibility must reach every post.

"Thank you, Grandfather," Jiang Xiwen said politely, nodding.

Zhang Yong quickly added, "Xiaoya, aren’t you going to greet our guest?"

"Dad, I know!" Zhang Ya replied cheerfully, then turned to Jiang Xiwen and asked, "Xiwen, would you like something to drink?"

"Just plain water is fine," Jiang Xiwen answered.

"Alright!" Zhang Ya poured him a glass of water and smiled. "Today my mother is cooking herself, so you’re in for a treat."

"Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—perhaps I could help Auntie in the kitchen," Jiang Xiwen said courteously.

Seeing his eagerness to get along with her mother, Zhang Ya was even more pleased. "You’re my guest; of course, I should look after you. I’ll go help my mom instead."

"Ha! Xiwen, our Xiaoya never does any housework, but it seems she wants to show off a bit in front of her benefactor," Zhang Yong teased.

"Dad, how could you say that about your daughter?" Zhang Ya pouted, turning away, and quickly left the sitting room.

The elderly man in the armchair turned a page of his magazine, coughed lightly, and said, "I’ll head back to my study," before rising and heading upstairs.

"Hehe." Zhang Yong chuckled. "That was my father, Xiaoya’s grandfather. Don’t mind him, Xiwen."

"Not at all. I just hope I didn’t disturb his reading," Jiang Xiwen replied with a smile, then continued, "Uncle, there’s something I’d like to trouble you about."

His earlier offer to help in the kitchen had not been sincere; he merely wanted Zhang Ya to leave, so he could bring up the real issue. He had already asked Zhang Ya before, but if she were present, it would be difficult to get any answers.

"Oh?" Zhang Yong was surprised by Jiang Xiwen’s seriousness. "Go on, Xiwen, what is it?"

"I’m curious—why haven’t the police come to question me? For such a serious incident, especially with the mayor’s daughter being kidnapped, I would have expected them to," Jiang Xiwen asked directly, watching Zhang Yong closely to observe his reaction.

Zhang Yong’s demeanor remained perfectly natural, even approving. "It’s no wonder you were clever and brave enough to lead Xiaoya to safety, Xiwen. That you would think of this shows your resourcefulness. I truly thank you."

Jiang Xiwen could detect nothing amiss in Zhang Yong’s manner, though it was clear he was intentionally skirting the question.

"You’re too kind, Uncle Zhang. In a crisis, people can sometimes evolve naturally."

"Evolve?" Zhang Yong was intrigued.

"Like when a tiger is chasing you, you might find yourself running faster than ever before. Environmental change accelerates evolution in a species, don’t you think so, Uncle Zhang?" Jiang Xiwen digressed, then quickly returned to his point. "But you still haven’t answered—have the police caught the two criminals? Why haven’t they contacted me?"

He held firmly to his question, refusing to be diverted by polite conversation.

"Hmm!" Zhang Yong’s lips twitched slightly—a detail not missed by Jiang Xiwen, who had always been observant, a skill he once used in writing and now employed to read people.

"Xiwen, you’re quite impressive..." Zhang Yong seemed to be buying time to think. After a few seconds, he said, "Since you’ve asked, let’s go to my study and discuss this. I’ll explain the reason."

"Alright, Uncle Zhang." Jiang Xiwen was certain that even in the study, Zhang Yong would not reveal the whole truth. If he intended to, he could have done so already without delay.

Following Zhang Yong into the study, Jiang Xiwen found it a spacious room, with a desk and bookshelf—indistinguishable from an office.

Once they were seated, Zhang Yong began, "This is my workspace at home. Without my permission, no one comes in here." His meaning was clear: he wanted the fifteen-year-old, who seemed mature beyond his years, to trust every word he was about to say.

"Xiwen, is there something you know? If you have any clues about those two criminals, feel free to tell me," Zhang Yong asked in return.

"No, I was simply curious. I thought perhaps you didn’t want any publicity, for fear it might affect your work," Jiang Xiwen replied, leaving no room for doubt.

Zhang Yong gazed at him for a moment, surprised to find the boy meeting his eyes without a hint of nervousness. In his years in politics, he had met all kinds of people, including many who were difficult to handle. But this was his first time encountering a middle schooler who genuinely made him think.

Beneath the desk, Zhang Yong interlaced his fingers, his thumbs circling each other, then spoke again. "Actually, Xiaoya has told me the whole story. I relayed it to Captain Tian of the Yangjiang Detective Division. For your protection, and Xiaoya’s, I didn’t want the police to question you. If word of this kidnapping got out, it would affect your studies—and my work as well. That’s why I told Xiaoya it was just a routine robbery and kidnapping. As for the criminals’ true motives, the detectives are still investigating."

He was, after all, the mayor; his words left little room for doubt. Jiang Xiwen knew that what he said was likely true, but there must still be things left unsaid. Zhang Yong clearly would not divulge more.

Jiang Xiwen nodded firmly. "Thank you, Uncle Zhang. You’ve told a child so much, which shows you’re a good mayor. I, on the other hand, fancied myself a little detective and made things difficult for you."

His words both praised Zhang Yong and revealed his own childishness, making his behavior seem all the more reasonable; after all, no matter how mature, a child was still a child.

"Xiwen, there’s no need to say that," Zhang Yong said with a good-natured laugh. "I just hope you’ll keep this secret for me. Xiaoya has been strictly raised by her mother since childhood, but she’s not emotionally resilient. If she knew the truth, she’d be anxious all the time, and it would affect her studies."

"Of course, Uncle Zhang. Don’t worry." Jiang Xiwen’s gaze fell on a photograph in a frame on the desk. The two people in the picture were young, but he could tell one was Zhang Ya’s father, Zhang Yong, and the other was Tian Weidong, the chairman of Tianxing Computer School.