QIU RONG: THE BREAK-IN

[Impostor Writer]

Episode 1: The Ticket

Li Yunfeng knelt before the Fox Deity statue.
His eyes were closed.
His hands were clasped together.

A moment passed.

He slowly opened his eyes, bent forward, and pressed his forehead to the floor.

The incense was still burning. Pale smoke drifted lazily across the stone-carved face of the Fox Deity.

He raised his head again and clasped his hands once more, yet he dared not look directly at the statue.

"Fox Deity…"
"Tell me…"
"Do I still look human to you?"

---

Day One

Early morning

Li Yunfeng sat at the dining table eating breakfast. Bread and milk were set before him. He held half a slice of bread in his hand when, mid-chew, his jaw suddenly froze.

As if a thought had struck him.

Slowly, he laid down his chopsticks, raised his head, and fixed his gaze on the empty chair across from him.

Two seconds of silence.

Then—

"Old Zhang," he said. "This issue… what's your take?"

He paused. His brow furrowed slightly. Something felt off.

"No," he muttered. "The voice needs to be lower."

He cleared his throat and sat up straight. His voice dropped, adopting a carefully practiced, authoritative tone.

"This issue of work-style construction… how many times have I emphasized it? We need real implementation."

He reached for the small dish of pickled vegetables and slid it closer, as if adjusting documents on a conference table. Then he raised a hand and pointed at the empty air in front of him, brows drawn tight.

"And yet you people… engaging in formalism? This situation… I am very dissatisfied."

He stared at the imaginary subordinate. Silence stretched for a moment before his tone softened. He waved a hand dismissively.

"Set it aside for now… let the lower levels study it further. Meeting adjourned."

He nodded in satisfaction, lowered his head, and shoved the remaining half of the bread into his mouth. After a few chews he glanced at his watch. It was almost time.

He tidied the table, picked up his briefcase, put on his coat, and closed the door behind him. The room fell quiet once more.

---

Morning

Li Yunfeng walked toward the government office building. At the security booth by the gate, Liu Aiguo sat reading a newspaper. Seeing him, the guard looked up.

"Here already, Secretary Li."

Li Yunfeng paused, smiled. "Morning, Old Liu."

"Morning."

Li Yunfeng nodded and continued inside.

In Mayor Wu Jianrong's office, the mayor was reviewing documents. Li Yunfeng stood to the side, body slightly inclined forward.

"That material from yesterday—revised?" Wu asked without looking up.

"Yes." Li handed it over.

Wu took it and flipped through the pages. The office was silent. Li stood still, his sidelong glance brushing over the mayor. The smile on his face faded.

Wu turned a few more pages. "This project is one of the key livelihood projects the municipal committee is pushing this year. The higher-ups are watching closely. No mistakes allowed."

Li immediately lowered his head. "Understood. I'll reorganize it right away."

Wu continued reading. "Also, when you communicate with the lower levels, pay attention to your approach. Some things can be handled as special cases."

Li was quiet for a second. "Understood, Mayor Wu."

Wu nodded and kept reading. Li raised his eyes again, his gaze sweeping over the mayor once more.

A moment later Wu closed the file. "That'll do. Go."

"Yes, Mayor Wu."

Li turned and left, closing the door gently behind him. The smile on his face vanished the instant the door clicked shut.

---

Evening

Wang Fugui sat alone in a private room at a teahouse. The tea on the table had already cooled. He checked his watch.

The door opened and Li Yunfeng walked in. Wang rose at once.

"Yunfeng. I've been waiting for you."

Li smiled and sat opposite him. Wang poured the tea himself.

"I'll have to trouble you again this time."

"Boss Wang, Mayor Wu isn't someone just anyone can meet."

Wang nodded with a smile. "I know. That's why I came to you."

Li took a light sip of tea. "If you want to see the leadership, you at least have to tell me what you want to discuss."

"The funeral industry," Wang said. "I want the whole thing. As long as Mayor Wu gives the nod, everything else is easy."

Li nodded. "Understood."

Wang pulled a thick envelope from his bag and pushed it across the table. "Yunfeng, a small token of appreciation."

Li looked at the envelope but did not reach for it. "Boss Wang, what is this?"

Wang smiled. "You're introducing me to the leadership. This is only proper."

Li was silent for a moment, then took the envelope and weighed it in his hand. "I'll do my best to arrange it."

"When can I see Mayor Wu?" Wang asked at once.

Li raised his eyes. "Wait for my word."

Wang nodded quickly. "Yes, yes."

---

The following morning

The cameras were already in place. The studio lights were bright. The large LED screen behind the desk displayed the title: Face to Face with Livelihood Issues.

Mayor Wu Jianrong entered. The female host stepped forward at once.

"Mayor Wu, good morning."

"Good morning."

They shook hands and took their seats. The red light on the camera came on. The broadcast began.

"Good morning, viewers. Welcome to this episode of Face to Face with Livelihood Issues. Today we are honored to have Mayor Wu Jianrong with us. Mayor Wu, in recent years the public has paid increasing attention to clean government. In particular, how should the relationship between government departments and businesses be handled?"

Wu leaned forward slightly, expression serious.

Off to the side, Li Yunfeng took a recorder from his pocket and pressed the record button. The time display began to tick.

"This is a very important question," Wu said. "Whenever I see the expectant eyes of ordinary people and think of the responsibility on my shoulders, I often lie awake night after night. What is a public servant? A public servant is the people's attendant. I, Wu Jianrong, have reached this position thanks to the trust of the organization and the heavy expectations of the entire city's people. I often remind myself—and those around me—that we must have the resolve to give our all until our dying breath. As long as I hold this post for even one day, I will spare no effort for the people."

His eyes shone as he looked into the camera, like an inviolable statue of integrity.

"But power is a double-edged sword," the host continued. "As mayor, holding great authority, how do you ensure that you and those around you do not abuse it?"

Wu's expression turned instantly stern. "Absolutely not! Power is given by the people and can only be used for the people's benefit. It must never become a tool for personal gain!" He tapped the desk lightly. "My attitude toward abuse of power is zero tolerance. Anyone who dares trade the people's interests for personal benefit—I, Wu Jianrong, will be the first to refuse! We must lock power in the cage of the system and let it operate in the sunlight. I myself must set the example. If any of my family or those close to me dare use my name for private matters—I will show no mercy!"

As he spoke, the fingers crossed over his abdomen unconsciously brushed his wrist. The camera caught it for a moment: a seemingly ordinary watch that was, in fact, a limited-edition Patek Philippe worth a million.

The host thanked him. The broadcast ended. The red light went out.

Walking out of the studio, Wu said, "That hostess just now wasn't bad. Go check into her."

"Yes, Mayor Wu."

"What's arranged for this evening?"

"Wang Fugui has already been set up."

"What's it about?"

"He wants the entire funeral industry in the city."

Wu gave a small smile. "Urns, cemetery plots… yes, there's money in that. See him tonight."

"Yes, Mayor Wu. I'll arrange it right away."

Wu smiled. "Yunfeng, you're still the most reliable. Anyone else and I really wouldn't feel at ease."

---

Late night

The city had gone to sleep. In a modest basement apartment the lights were off. Li Yunfeng, forty-five, sat alone on a chair in a somewhat worn shirt, leaning slightly forward, hands crossed on his knees. A cup of tea on the table had long gone cold. He did not drink it.

After a while he took out his recorder and pressed play. Wu Jianrong's familiar voice filled the darkness.

"What is a public servant? A public servant is the people's attendant."

Li opened a black notebook filled with names:

Zhang Director — loves money.
Li Section Chief — loves power.
Wang Bureau Chief — lust.
Chen Division Chief — fears death.
Liu Deputy Mayor — fears losing his post.

Symbols next to the names: money, power, women, reputation, position.

The recording continued. "Power is given by the people. It must never become a tool for personal gain!"

Li paused the recording, wrote in the notebook: "'Must never' — heavy stress."

He played it again, listened carefully, then wrote: "'Power-for-money deals' — pause. 'Personal gain' — slower pace."

He closed his eyes and listened once more. A faint rustle of clothing, a brief pause. He opened his eyes, stopped the recording, and under Wu Jianrong's name wrote:

Weakness?

The pen tip hovered. He stared at the two characters for a long time, neither crossing them out nor adding more.

Finally he played the recording one last time.

"It must never become a tool for personal gain."

Li leaned back on the sofa, eyes closed, listening until the end. When the recording stopped, the room was silent again.

He opened his eyes and murmured, "When he said that line… why did it sound so natural?"

No answer came. He closed the notebook, set the recorder on the table, and leaned back into the darkness.

---

Day Three

Afternoon

In the office of the Deputy Secretary-General of the Municipal Party Committee, the blinds were half-drawn. Sunlight fell across the desk. Li Yunfeng entered carrying an ordinary kraft-paper bag.

Director Zhang looked up from his documents and smiled. "Yunfeng, you're here."

"Director Zhang."

"Sit."

Li placed the bag gently on the edge of the desk. "Two tins of tea. A friend brought them back from Fujian. I don't know tea myself—please take a look."

Zhang glanced at the bag and smiled. "You little rascal. Since when do you understand these things?"

"I don't. I just know you like tea, so I brought some."

Zhang did not touch the bag. He took a sip from his thermos. "All right. I'll hold onto them for you for now."

Li smiled and sat. After a few seconds of quiet he said, "Director Zhang, I'd like to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"The Safety Supervision Bureau position… after the old director retires, will it be vacant?"

Zhang raised his eyes and looked at him for a moment. "Why the sudden interest?"

Li smiled lightly. "I'd like to try for it."

Zhang studied him in silence, then said quietly, "Yunfeng… you still don't know?"

Li was briefly taken aback. "Know what?"

Zhang flipped through a couple of pages of a document, then set it down. "That position… has already been decided."

Li stared at him without speaking.

"But the old director hasn't even retired yet. The Organization Department hasn't started the process—"

"Process is process," Zhang said. "The candidate was decided long ago." He opened a drawer, took out a document, and pushed it across.

Recommended candidate for Director of the Safety Supervision Bureau: Zhao Kai.

"It was decided last week. Mayor Wu decided it personally. He… didn't mention it to you?"

Li was silent.

Zhang's tone softened. "You've been with Mayor Wu for so many years. By rights he should have said something to you. But don't take it to heart. Leaders have their own considerations. Some things aren't always said in advance."

Li gave a small smile. "I understand."

Zhang watched him, clearly aware that he had not truly let it go. "Yunfeng, I'm telling you this so you'll know—not so you'll go ask Mayor Wu about it."

Li looked at him for several seconds, then nodded. "Thank you, Director Zhang."

Zhang waved a hand. "Between us, no need for that."

Li stood and reached for the bag. Zhang said, "Take the tea back."

Li paused. "Didn't you say you'd hold onto it for me?"

Zhang smiled. "You didn't get the job done. It wouldn't be right for me to take your tea."

Li smiled too. "Then you especially have to take it. It's only two tins. Not worth anything."

Zhang looked at him and did not refuse again. "All right. Leave it."

Li nodded, turned to leave. At the door Zhang called after him.

"Yunfeng. Don't lose heart. There will be other opportunities."

Li turned back, a smile returning to his face. "I know. Thank you."

He pushed the door open and closed it softly behind him.

---

Evening

Li Yunfeng returned to the basement. He did not turn on the light. He took off his coat and sat on the sofa. On the table stood a framed photograph of himself and Wu Jianrong, both smiling.

He stared at the photo without moving. The clock on the wall ticked slowly: midnight, one, two, three, four. Outside the window the sky gradually lightened.

At last he rose, went to the bookshelf, and took out an old black notebook filled with phone numbers, names, dates, and private symbols. He flipped through the pages, then opened a blank one and began to write—quickly, crossing out, rewriting—his expression focused, as though he had done this countless times before.

When he finished he blew on the ink, closed the notebook, returned to the table, and picked up the photograph. With his pen he drew a large X across Wu Jianrong's face. He looked at it for a moment, said nothing, then slowly turned the frame face-down.

The image held.

---

In the small, dimly lit room, the Fox Deity statue stood on the shrine. Once bare, it now wore a simple cloth garment Li Yunfeng had sewn himself—plain but clean. A single small lamp burned before it. No wind, no sound.

Li Yunfeng stood before the statue for a long time, then slowly knelt, clasped his hands, and bowed his head.

"Fox Deity."

No answer.

He raised his head and looked at the carved stone face.

"I didn't get the Safety Supervision Bureau position. I was the last one to know."

Silence.

"It's all right. I won't be a bureau director."

He lowered his head, then slowly raised it again.

"This time… Yunfeng will do it himself."

He bowed once more, forehead to the floor, then rose, glanced at the statue, and left.

---

Several days later

Evening

Li Yunfeng drove Mayor Wu to meet Yang Dawei. Wu sat in the back, flipping casually through a file. After a while he passed it forward.

"This one hasn't been behaving lately."

Li glanced at it. "How should we handle it?"

Wu looked out the window, voice flat. "Write an anonymous tip-off letter."

Li smiled faintly. "Understood. Dirty shoes. The eyes of the masses are sharp."

Wu said nothing more.

A while later Wu spoke again. "I've been thinking of ways to move up to the provincial level. You've been with me all these years. As long as I have a bite to eat, so will you. When I get to the province, I won't forget you."

Li was silent for a moment. "Thank you, Mayor Wu."

They arrived at a private club. Yang Dawei, owner of Baichuan Engineering, hurried forward, all smiles, opened the door for Wu, and escorted him inside.

Li remained in the car. He watched them disappear, then took out his recorder and played back Wu's words:

"You've been with me all these years… As long as I have a bite to eat, so will you… When I get to the province, I won't forget you."

He listened expressionlessly, then stopped the recording and put it away.

An hour later Wu emerged. Yang saw him to the car. After the car drove off, Li entered the private room. Yang immediately stood.

"Brother Li."

"President Yang."

Yang offered a cigarette; Li took it but did not light it. Then Yang pushed a rolling suitcase toward him.

"The usual?"

Yang smiled. "The usual."

Li lifted the suitcase. The weight made his hand dip slightly. In that instant his eyes changed—briefly, too briefly for Yang to notice. But Li felt it.

Money. A great deal of money.

He turned and left without another word.

---

On the empty road Li drove with the suitcase on the passenger seat. He glanced at it once, then again, longer this time. He slowed, pulled over, and stopped.

He unzipped the suitcase. Stacks of U.S. dollars lay neatly inside.

He looked at them. A thought slowly took shape.

"If I took this money and ran right now…?"

He stared at the bills.

"Not yet. Sooner or later it will all be mine."

He zipped the suitcase shut, restarted the car, and drove into the night. In the rear-view mirror the suitcase lay quietly. He looked away and kept going.

---

At Ding Xinyu's teahouse, already closed for the night, Li carried the suitcase inside. Ding sat alone drinking tea. She took the suitcase when he set it down.

"You've worked hard."

"Not at all."

He turned to leave.

"Yunfeng."

He stopped. She opened a drawer, took out a small black box, and opened it. Two gold bars lay inside.

"From Mayor Wu."

Li looked at them for a moment, then took the box, closed it without examining the bars closely. "Thank Mayor Wu for me."

Ding smiled. "After all these years with him, when has he ever short-changed you?"

Li smiled as well. "Please thank him for me."

Outside, the night wind was cold. He slipped the box into his pocket, walked to the corner, stopped, and looked back. The teahouse door was closed, but a light still burned on the second floor. He stood there for a long time, expressionless, then turned and left.

---

The next day

In the municipal government office, Wu was approving materials for a greening project that included Yang Dawei's company. He signed without hesitation.

"Done. Proceed according to this plan."

Li stood beside him, watching the pen, the signed document, the casual way Wu wrote.

Last night's three million was for this one signature, he thought. With a stroke of the pen, the power-for-money deal becomes legitimate "cooperation."

Wu signed another document without so much as a glance at him. Li's face still wore a calm smile, but his eyes had changed completely.

"You handled this well," Wu said.

"Only what I should do, Mayor Wu."

Wu looked up. "Yunfeng. The place you're living in now—is it still the old one?"

Li paused. "Yes."

"Hengke's Zhou has a new development that's just opened. I'll put in a word with him. Go look this afternoon. Pick a larger unit."

Li was clearly taken aback. "Mayor Wu, this…"

Wu waved a hand. "After all these years with me, you still don't have a decent place to live. What kind of impression is that? Your parents are still in the countryside, aren't they? They're getting on in years. Bring them over." He returned to his documents. "Go on. Once you've chosen, tell me. I'll take care of the rest."

Li looked at him for several seconds. "…Thank you, Mayor Wu."

Wu did not look up. "Go."

At the luxurious sales center, Li walked slowly among the model units and large windows. The saleswoman showed him a 218-square-meter unit. He stood at the window, a faint smile on his face, remembering the suitcase of dollars from the night before.

"Mr. Li?"

He came back to himself and smiled. "This one."

---

The following days

Li went to work as usual. On the surface, nothing had changed.

One afternoon Wu signed another document and handed it to him. "Deliver this."

"Yes."

Li took it and left. The door closed slowly behind him.

In the elevator he stood among the crowd. The numbers descended: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. The doors opened. Outside stood Zhao Kai and a colleague, Zhao looking down at documents. Li walked past without stopping. Zhao and his colleague entered the elevator. The doors closed. Li's figure receded.

---

Evening

Li leaned back in his chair, feet on the edge of the table, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, slowly turning two gold bars in the other hand. The bars gleamed coldly under the light.

He stared at them.

The businessman gives me the money. I take it. I deliver it to the teahouse. Ding Xinyu receives it. In the end… it goes into Wu Jianrong's pocket.

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

A man like Wu Jianrong would never keep all the money in his own house.

He tapped the table lightly.

The teahouse? Impossible. It's a public place, people coming and going, closed at night. That much cash can't stay there.

He sat up straighter, eyes sharpening.

The last person to handle the money… is Ding Xinyu.

His eyes narrowed.

So… where is the money now?

Silence. His gaze grew colder.

"Her house," he said quietly. "It's in her house."

He looked at the overturned photo frame on the table, picked it up. Wu Jianrong's face still bore the X. Beside him was his younger self.

He studied the photograph for a long time, head tilted slightly, as if re-examining someone he had known for many years.

Finally he spoke softly.

"Old Wu… if your money went missing… would you dare report it to the police?"

The room was silent. No answer came.

He set the frame face-down again, stood, switched off the light, and left the room. The door closed slowly behind him.