Chapter 1: A Tiger Humbled, Preyed Upon by Dogs!

At last, he was to be transferred back from the Bureau of Retired Cadres to the Secretariat Section of the Municipal Party Committee’s Office!

Tang Ye meticulously straightened his clothes. With sun-kissed skin, cropped thick hair, a tall and upright figure, and a sharply defined jaw, he looked radiant and composed in his crisply pressed formal attire.

He was twenty-seven years old, a graduate with a master’s degree from Qiongjin University’s School of Government Management, and had joined the Municipal Committee Office as top of his class. Yet, his first year at work had been far from smooth. No sooner had he started than he was dispatched to the Bureau of Retired Cadres—a backwater post.

Later, he learned that a petty-minded acquaintance had pulled strings behind his back, and it was true what they said: the knife that comes from a “friend” cuts the deepest.

He reached the stairwell corner.

Suddenly, a flurry of pink appeared before him. Unable to avoid it, Tang Ye collided headlong with the figure.

“Ouch, that hurts!”

“Watch out!”

Papers scattered like snowflakes in the air.

Tang Ye felt as if his shoulder had sunk into a cloud. Looking closer, he realized it was Cheng Lin, the deputy director of the Bureau of Retired Cadres.

Cheng Lin was thirty-two, the epitome of a southern beauty—an oval face, jet-black eyes, lips like rose petals, and perfectly white teeth.

Her voice was clear and crystalline, her words tinged with a gentle accent.

“Look at me, all fingers and thumbs—the more urgent, the more flustered I get.”

She bent to pick up the papers, the creamy skin below her collar gleaming, the hem of her dress swaying gently, and the faintest trace of pink at the curve of her hips, barely visible, hinting at what lay beneath.

Tang Ye crouched to help gather the documents, blowing off the dust with a smile to ease the awkwardness. “Lin-jie, you seem really stressed—your face has broken out! Not feeling well?”

Cheng Lin instinctively touched the red spot at her lips, her brows knitting with a hint of grievance. “Is it that bad? I haven’t been sleeping at all lately. Just had a check-up last week—lots of warning lights on my results!”

“Even minor issues need attention. I know a brilliant traditional doctor—let me take you to see him sometime.”

“I’d like that! I’ve been meaning to get my health sorted out.”

She took the papers from him, tidied them into two neat stacks, and looked him up and down with a faint smile. “Xiao Ye, you look sharp today! Reporting back to the Municipal Committee?”

“Sis, even though I’m being transferred back, if you need anything, call me anytime!”

“Hey, focus on your work at the Committee Office now—put your career first.”

Her beauty was like a landscape painting, but her marriage was an unsolved riddle.

She was married, yet her husband was never seen—rumor had it he was in Canada pursuing a doctorate.

On Tang Ye’s second day at the Bureau, her home had a burst pipe and two broken lights, and she couldn’t find a repairman. Hearing this, Tang Ye had hurried over to help, his hands-on skills impressive—he fixed the pipe in no time.

And with his writing talent and solid work ethic, Cheng Lin held him in high regard, treating him not as a subordinate but as a younger brother.

The Bureau of Retired Cadres offered little room for advancement—it was never a place to linger. Cheng Lin had played a crucial role in his return to the Committee Office.

…

Just as he entered Building One, Tang Ye felt a weight on his shoulder. Turning around, he was met by a sharp-eyed, hawk-nosed face.

Shao Jinbo—the very “backstabber” who’d wronged him.

“Old classmate, long time no see! Been busy lately?”

Not only were Shao Jinbo and Tang Ye high school classmates, but they’d also both passed the civil service exam in the same year.

Shao Jinbo had originally been assigned to the Municipal Environmental Protection Bureau, but when Tang Ye was seconded to the Bureau of Retired Cadres, Shao moved into the Secretariat Section in his place.

He had powerful connections—his uncle was the Deputy Secretary of the Hanzhou Municipal Political and Legal Committee.

Tang Ye swallowed his irritation, flashing a neat row of teeth. “Keeping busy, you know. Thanks for your concern.”

Shao Jinbo’s false smile was clumsy, his tone mocking. “Isn’t it boring at the Bureau? All those old folks love to nitpick and file petty complaints, and some are downright stubborn and difficult. Clawing your way out of that pit—your luck must be extraordinary!”

Tang Ye disliked him belittling the retirees, his brows drawing together. “They’re just like kids—pure-hearted, really. Once you know how to deal with them, they’re easy enough. As for luck, I can’t compare to you!”

Shao Jinbo lifted his chin and waved his document folder in the air. “The work at the Committee Office is tough and stressful. I was up all night writing a speech yesterday—look at these panda eyes! I’m glad you’re back. Finally, someone junior to share the burden!”

He struck a pose of seniority, already issuing orders before he’d even returned to his own desk.

Tang Ye only smiled, unfazed. “Well, those who can, do more. I could never handle your workload. You really do look awful—your hairline’s so far gone you’ve got a natural part now. Not sure if that counts as a workplace injury! Take care of yourself.”

“Your tongue is as sharp as ever!” Shao Jinbo’s expression twisted, and he changed the subject. “Remember Xiao Hui from high school?”

Sensing mischief, Tang Ye replied with a half-smile, “Of course—the class beauty.”

A smug smile crept across Shao Jinbo’s lips. “We’re engaged now. Let’s all catch up for dinner sometime? You chased her back then. I barely tried, just two months and it was done.”

A strange annoyance welled up in Tang Ye, though his face remained calm as a still lake. “Three’s a crowd—why not make it a whole class gathering?”

He guarded his emotions like a fortress.

Shao Jinbo, finding no satisfaction, lowered his voice and said abruptly, “Best of luck with your ‘next assignment’!”

As Tang Ye disappeared into the elevator, a cold smirk played on Shao Jinbo’s lips.

Tang Ye first reported to Human Resources, then made his way to Yang Yuan’s office.

A four-foot vertical painting of lotus flowers, “Ripples on the Green Pond,” caught his eye.

Yang Yuan was Deputy Secretary-General of the Municipal Party Committee and concurrently Director of the Committee Office.

Seeing Tang Ye, he removed his glasses and forced a smile. “Xiao Tang, please, have a seat.”

Yang’s tone was unusually warm, setting Tang Ye on edge.

“Xiao Tang, you did well at the Bureau. The retirees and leadership both speak highly of you. It shows the organization’s trust was well placed.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

“There’s a spot for a placement in Pinghu Town, Jinyang County. Take a few days off at home, and report there next week.”

Tang Ye’s body went rigid, his spirits plunging.

Pinghu Town was notorious for poverty, bordering Runjiang City and far off the map—no one wanted to go.

Yang Yuan had been “most considerate.” With Shao Jinbo’s uncle as his backer, if Tang Ye returned to the Secretariat, Shao would be forced back to the Environmental Bureau. So Yang devised a “perfect” solution—send Tang Ye to the grassroots.

Wasn’t he so outstanding? Surely he’d “shine” there as well.

“Director Yang, this is rather sudden. Perhaps I could work in the Secretariat for a year before taking a placement?”

Though the die was cast, Tang Ye tried to negotiate.

Yang Yuan tapped the desk twice, his smile growing ever softer. “A new Party Secretary is about to be appointed. You’re unfamiliar with Secretariat work; now’s not the time to return. Pinghu may be poor and underdeveloped, but it’s a rare opportunity. When you come back, promotion will be a natural step.

Young people shouldn’t look down on grassroots work. Struggle is the hue of youth. Only by sweating and striving in hardship and at the frontlines does one live the most beautiful youth. Believe me, the countryside is vast with many opportunities—you’ll do great things there.

If you run into problems, come to me anytime. The Committee Office will always have your back.”

Tang Ye was sickened.

Not only was he being exiled to the poorest township, but Yang put on a sanctimonious act as if it were all for his own good, wrapping his words in empty platitudes and moral blackmail.

Depressed and stifled, Tang Ye wanted to protest yet couldn’t find the words. All he could do was reply by rote, “Thank you, Director Yang, for your guidance. Rest assured, I’ll fulfill my duties and live up to your expectations.”

Yang Yuan adjusted his glasses and all but showed him the door. “Off you go, then.”

After Tang Ye left, Yang picked up his office phone and called Shao Jinbo.

“Jinbo, your classmate’s new assignment is settled.”

“Thank you for your trouble, Director Yang. Under your guidance, he’s sure to impress in his new role.”

…

Leaving Building One, Tang Ye returned to the Bureau of Retired Cadres. He’d barely sat down when his mentor called.

His master’s supervisor was Jiang Jinping, Dean of the School of Government Management at Qiongjin University.

“Back at the Committee Office?”

“It was an empty hope—I’ve been assigned to Pinghu Town,” Tang Ye replied, his tone dejected.

Jiang Jinping’s brows furrowed into a deep crease. “That’s outrageous! Why not resign? My research group needs you!”

“Thank you for caring, Professor. I used Hanzhou as a model in my thesis. Taking the civil service exam here was my way to put ideas into practice, to test my theories. I can’t give up halfway.”

Jiang Jinping was indignant on Tang Ye’s behalf but admired his resilience and determination in the face of adversity.

Yet officialdom was a different world; talent alone wasn’t enough—opportunity and platform mattered even more.

“My door is always open to you.”

…

With his departure from the Bureau imminent, Tang Ye began packing his things. On his desk was a letter addressed to Hong Ruilin.

He decided to deliver it and bid farewell.

The government provided retired cadres with comfortable housing, yet Hong Ruilin was an “outlier,” choosing to live in an ordinary apartment.

Formerly Deputy Secretary of the Hanzhou Municipal Party Committee, Hong was a peculiar man, both respected and feared by his colleagues.

He was passionate about Go, but his temperament at the game outstripped his skill—fond of taking back moves, and quick to anger when losing.

Tang Ye knew a bit of Go. In his spare time, he’d play a few matches with the old man. Out of respect for the elderly, even when scolded, Tang Ye would respond with a smile.

But on the battlefield, there were no fathers and sons; on the board, no hierarchy—when it came time to win, Tang Ye never held back.

Hong Ruilin found Tang Ye refreshingly different—unlike others who either feared him or tried to curry favor by playing badly. Though he’d often scold Tang Ye as a rascal, in his heart he regarded him as a cherished friend across the generations.

Tang Ye rang the doorbell several times—no answer. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

A ring echoed from inside, but after a long wait, no one came.

Tang Ye sniffed, catching a sharp, acrid smell seeping from the crack beneath the door.

Something was wrong.

A fire!