Chapter 27: What Was Lost

"May I ask what business you have with President Mo? Do you have an appointment?" The young and beautiful receptionist’s words carried a hint of coldness.

Ye Linglan held out the clothes before her eyes. "I'm here to deliver clothes to President Mo. He specifically instructed that they be handed to him personally."

Anyone familiar with Mo Zhicheng’s habits would recognize at a glance the exclusive logo on his garments. The receptionist checked, then politely gestured, "This way, please."

It was her first time entering Mo Zhicheng’s office suite. To her surprise, in stark contrast to the opulence of 'Night City', his office was remarkably simple. A wide, long desk of solid wood stood at the center. On the side was a bookcase, glass doors reflecting the neat rows of books within—most of them on finance, with a few medals displayed as well. Behind the black leather swivel chair hung a calligraphy scroll, the characters bold and vigorous, leaping from the paper with energy.

"Supreme goodness is like water?" Ye Linglan murmured, reading the scroll, and found herself quietly amused. A soft laugh slipped from her lips.

Steady footsteps sounded behind her, and a man's voice came out of nowhere. "What are you laughing at?"

Ye Linglan turned around hastily. Seeing Mo Zhicheng again, he was as elegant as ever. As he brushed past her, she felt, as if he didn’t need to summon clouds with a wave of his hand—merely by standing near, he could eclipse her sky, shrouding her world in shadow. Meeting his piercing gaze, she was briefly stunned. Why did she feel this way? As if the hand of fate smiled down from the clouds and all was preordained.

Mo Zhicheng leaned lightly against the wide desk, eyes lifting to her. The casino’s uniform was a white shirt paired with a dark red vest and matching pencil skirt, accentuating her slender waist, her posture graceful and poised. Her shoulder-length hair was tied in a small ponytail, the stray strands at her temples neatly clipped with a black barrette.

His gaze dropped, noticing the woolen coat draped over her arm, and he understood her purpose. For a moment, Mo Zhicheng’s eyes flickered, but he still pressed, "I asked you a question."

Ye Linglan looked back at him, then lowered her gaze and replied softly, "I was just looking at the words on the wall."

"Is that so?" He pulled a lighter from his pocket, lit a cigarette, and took a slow drag.

"The phrase 'Supreme goodness is like water' comes from the Dao De Jing: Water benefits all things and does not compete. It means the highest virtue is like water—nourishing everything without striving for recognition or gain." She smiled—was she laughing at his lack of ambition? Those four characters should be replaced with ‘hypocrisy cloaked in virtue’! A wolf in sheep’s clothing! She grumbled inwardly, but would she say that aloud? Was she foolish? "Perhaps those words also describe you, President Mo," Ye Linglan said, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, lips curling into a smile. "But if you ponder them carefully, there’s even more subtlety in their meaning."

Mo Zhicheng exhaled a thin stream of smoke, the curling haze softening his austere features. He gazed at the four characters, his voice cool. "Go on."

Ye Linglan followed his gaze. "Water is content wherever it flows—whether trickling through cracks in stone or seeping into marshy mud, it survives tenaciously. It teaches us that even in hardship, we should embrace our lot, remain true to our duties. Even a dewdrop greets the morning sun with a sparkling smile—that’s the first lesson." Her voice was as clear as jade beads striking a silver plate, fresh and melodic, each word crisp and measured as it slipped from her rosy lips. "Second, when water meets cold, it turns to ice—the harder the challenge, the more we must unite as one. Third, water is transparent, pure to the core—it reminds us to be upright and self-disciplined, untainted by a speck of dust."

As her words faded, their resonance seemed to linger in the room.