Chapter 173: War-Ending

They got out of the car at the entrance of the guild hall. Wu Jiajie handed the vehicle over to the guard for parking and walked inside with Wang Chen.

The Luzhou Professionals’ Association guild hall was originally a large hotel known for its exotic ambiance.

It was said that the owner was from the Youyue Empire, who, during the upheaval more than a decade ago, sold the hotel and fled back to his homeland with the proceeds.

The former president of the association took over the hotel and converted it into the headquarters for the Professionals’ Association.

The interior decoration still retained the original style, with only minor refurbishments.

Thus, the guild hall exuded the atmosphere of the Youyue Empire, featuring intricately crafted luxurious carpets and enamel wall tiles in various vivid colors.

Stepping inside felt like entering a dollhouse.

Wang Chen and Wu Jiajie strolled to the grand central staircase with handrails, ascended the steps, crossed the smooth, rounded suspended corridor, and knocked on a room at the far end of the second floor.

Inside stood a broad-shouldered figure, facing the window, seemingly gazing out through the floor-to-ceiling glass.

Wu Jiajie stepped to the center of the room and called out, “President, Wang Chen and I have returned.”

“Hmm? Oh, good to have you back.” The broad figure turned around—it was an elderly man with graying temples.

He circled around the solid wood desk and came over to them. “Have a seat and rest a while.”

Speaking, the old man sat down on the plush leather sofa inside the room, casually removing the corn-cob pipe he’d been holding between his lips and tapped the ash into the ashtray on the low table.

After shaking out the tobacco ash, he opened the iron box on the desk and packed fresh tobacco into the pipe.

He busied himself with these actions for a moment before realizing Wang Chen and the others hadn’t sat down yet.

He quietly uttered an “oh,” waving his hand to dismiss the attendant who had been standing in the corner.

The door clicked shut behind the departing attendant.

Wu Jiajie, who had been standing upright, immediately relaxed, slumping into the sofa.

He complained casually, “The traffic was terrible today.”

He collapsed deeper into the sofa. “President, what kind of tobacco is that? Pass some my way.”

“Today was the big university competition; all the parents were shuttling their kids around, so that’s normal.” The old man slid the iron box toward Wu Jiajie. “Military-grade special supply, a friend brought it to me. If you want some, roll your own.”

“I’m exhausted. Can’t you roll one for me?”

“Come off it. I look down on you cigarette-rolling sissies. I won’t roll one for you. Take it or leave it!” The old man glared fiercely, his graying eyebrows twitching as he threatened to pull the box away.

“All right, all right, I’ll do it myself.” Wu Jiajie hurriedly shielded the box with both hands, mumbling as he rolled the cigarette.

Wang Chen sat quietly nearby, watching their interaction, still feeling somewhat out of place.

This elderly man was none other than Wu Zhige, president of the Luzhou Professionals’ Association.

“Wang Chen, how about a try?” Wu Jiajie asked.

Wang Chen raised his hand to decline; he had no intention of trying it for now.

Wu Jiajie shrugged and continued rolling.

Meanwhile, Wu Zhige lit his pipe and began puffing thoughtfully.

“How do you feel today? Nervous?”

He looked at Wang Chen.

“A little, but it’s also quite thrilling,” Wang Chen smiled.

“Good. Tomorrow will be even more thrilling,” Wu Zhige squinted.

“Will it?” Wang Chen frowned. “Today, as you predicted, the Public Security Bureau plans to cover this up through public relations. Without solid documentary evidence, it’s going to be hard to break them.”

“Don’t think about breaking them. The Public Security Bureau is a huge beast; it’s hard to purge it completely in one go,” Wu Zhige drew on his pipe. “Look on the bright side: at least tomorrow the bureau will have a major shake-up.”

Wang Chen pondered. “Is that because I was personally invited by Old Yu?”

“Exactly. By now, those rats must have heard the news and are probably scrambling to figure out who will take the fall.”

Wang Chen drummed his knuckles on the sofa armrest. “Could it be? Does Old Yu really have that much influence?”

“Of course!” Wu Zhige flopped back into the sofa, his fleshy belly bulging like a cloud of smoke. “Young man, don’t underestimate that old fellow. Back in the day, he was a legend in the military, a fierce warrior who dared to fight and charge headlong.”

“He only faded from the spotlight after being injured and transferred to administrative duties.”

“I never expected to see him here in Luzhou after all these years,” Wu Zhige said wistfully.

Wang Chen ventured, “Is that tobacco from Old Yu?”

Wu Zhige tapped his pipe on his chin. “We’re old friends. I mentioned your name to him.”

He added, “Though with his memory, he probably doesn’t quite remember you.”

Wang Chen smiled. “Same as when we first met today.”

“Exactly. Anyway, having him vouch for you makes it harder for the Public Security Bureau to sweep this under the rug.”

Wu Zhige exhaled a smoke ring. “Though semi-retired now, he’s still a high-ranking officer from the imperial capital. Those lapdogs respect him the most.”

Wang Chen nodded. “I understand. I’ll head back to my room to prepare for tomorrow…”

Before he finished, Wu Zhige interrupted. “No rush. You’re already well prepared. The only flaw is you’re sometimes too cautious.”

Wu Zhige nudged Wu Jiajie’s shin. “Go grab the terminal on the desk and give it to Wang Chen.”

Wu Jiajie, enjoying the tobacco, was reluctant but complied.

“What’s this?” Wang Chen scrolled through the terminal. “Recruitment brochure for the Military Academy?”

“Sort of. The Military Academy doesn’t really have brochures. They don’t need students badly enough to market themselves like a product,” Wu Zhige explained.

“It’s just an introductory document. Old Yu asked me to give it to you,” Wu Zhige said. “It should contain all the information you want and are allowed to know.”

So, if it’s not in there, I’m not authorized to know it yet, Wang Chen thought.

“Thank you, President. May I take this to my room to read?”

“Of course,” Wu Zhige smiled. “But I suggest you don’t get bogged down in details. Some senior officers have served for decades and still haven’t fully mastered those baffling regulations.”

“Most of the time, they won’t bother you.”

Wu Zhige tapped his pipe. “You only need to focus on three things.”

“First, your benefits. The Military Academy doesn’t charge tuition and even pays you a monthly stipend and allowance.”

The old man chuckled. “After all, it affects whether you can live comfortably in the imperial capital.”

Wu Jiajie interjected, “He’s a shareholder in Chunye Gen, does he really need the money?”