Chapter 87: An Apology? Impossible!

Yang Dong sat at the dining table in Guan Mushan’s home.

A few minutes earlier, he had followed Yin Tiejun here. But upon arrival, he was little more than a shadow—utterly invisible. The leaders chatted animatedly among themselves, and he had no part in their conversation. This puzzled him: why had Yin Tiejun insisted on bringing him along?

There was, however, a strikingly beautiful, ethereal young woman who kept her eyes fixed on him. Yet her gaze was far from friendly—cold and distant, in fact. Yang Dong could not fathom the reason. He had never met her—why such hostility?

“Tiejun, tomorrow is the standing committee meeting. You’ll soon be able to return to work at city hall,” said Guan Mushan, sitting at the head of the table, raising his wine glass with a broad smile. “For such a happy occasion, shouldn’t you propose a toast?”

Seating at the table was a matter of great significance, especially in officialdom, where even a family dinner followed strict protocol, for they were all officials. As head of the family and a deputy director-level standing committee member, Guan Mushan naturally sat at the head. His wife, Sun Xiufen, herself a division-level official, sat at his right. Su Muyun, the daughter of an esteemed leader and an honored guest from afar, occupied the position of chief guest at his left. Wei Chonghu sat as the secondary guest. Yin Tiejun sat in the third guest’s seat.

And where was Yang Dong? He was in the third attendant’s seat—directly to Su Muyun’s right. The two could meet each other’s eyes with a glance.

“Secretary Guan, allow me to propose a toast,” said Yin Tiejun, rising with his glass as soon as Guan Mushan spoke.

Yang Dong immediately stood and picked up the wine bottle, pouring for Yin Tiejun. At this, Su Muyun frowned and let out a cold snort. “Such fawning!”

Yang Dong heard her, frowned, and shot her a glance. But as Secretary Yin was about to speak, he held his tongue.

“First, I must thank my old leader for nurturing me, giving me the position I have today. Yet, for what happened, I still owe him an apology,” Yin Tiejun began. “Luckily, I was able to clear my name and did not betray his trust. This first cup, I offer to my old leader!”

With those words, he drained his glass. Yang Dong refilled it, knowing Yin Tiejun would propose more toasts. Yet again, Su Muyun frowned and sneered, “Such sycophancy!”

“Next, I must thank Secretary Guan and Secretary Wei for their help at a critical moment, sparing me from disaster,” Yin Tiejun continued. “We’ve all served as secretaries to our old leader, and have known each other as colleagues and comrades for over a decade. I won’t belabor the point; let it be said with this wine.”

He toasted Guan Mushan and Wei Chonghu, then drained his glass once more. They smiled at each other and drank with him.

Seeing that Yin Tiejun meant to continue, Yang Dong reached for the bottle again, but this time Yin Tiejun stopped him.

“Xiaodong, this cup, you cannot pour!”

With gratitude in his eyes, Yin Tiejun seized the bottle and poured himself a drink, then turned to Yang Dong.

“Lastly, I must thank the young man beside me, Xiaodong. Honestly, if he hadn’t taken the risk to call and notify Miss Muyun, none of this would have been possible. You may not know, but in those days, my phone was being monitored, and my subordinates at city hall were under surveillance. The only person I could turn to was Xiaodong—he was of too low a rank to attract suspicion. It was only because of his warning that Secretary Guan arrived so swiftly, just in time for my case. Without Xiaodong, the housekeeper would never have been found, nor the truth revealed. Only later did I learn that Xiaodong was in a car accident while bringing the housekeeper back—he risked his life to clear my name. So this cup must go to him!”

Tears glistened in Yin Tiejun’s eyes as he raised his glass to Yang Dong and drank.

“Uncle Yin, you—” Yang Dong tried to stop him, but in vain, and could only watch as he finished the wine.

Both Guan Mushan and Wei Chonghu felt complicated emotions—chiefly envy. To have such a loyal confidant, one willing to go to such lengths, was a rare blessing. Especially for Guan Mushan, who now understood why Yang Dong had previously refused his offer: it was entirely reasonable. Yang Dong had not been blinded by immediate gain, nor tempted by the post of secretary to the municipal disciplinary committee. Such integrity was all the more praiseworthy.

“He’s really that kind of person?” Su Muyun frowned, her gaze fixed on Yang Dong, her thoughts in turmoil. Yin Tiejun’s three toasts, the last reserved for Yang Dong, had astonished her. Most shocking of all were Yin Tiejun’s words. She had thought Yang Dong vain, sycophantic, ungrateful, arrogant. But after what she’d just heard and seen, her opinion had changed considerably.

“Old Yin, to have such a man as your aide, I’m happy for you,” Wei Chonghu said with a smile.

“You’re mistaken,” Yin Tiejun corrected him with a serious expression. “Xiaodong is not my subordinate—he’s my nephew. Didn’t you hear him call me Uncle Yin?”

Yin Tiejun could never forget what Lu Yike had told him in the hospital: “Yang Dong may treat you even better than his own father.” Coming from an outsider, those words had struck him deeply. So, Yang Dong was not just a subordinate, but kin.

Wei Chonghu was caught off guard by the correction and felt a bit embarrassed, harboring greater resentment toward Yin Tiejun. As fellow secretaries to the old leader, they had always been rivals for favor, and over time, their relationship had soured. Only this time, with Guan Mushan’s appointment—a signal from their old leader—had he lent a hand to Yin Tiejun, and only because of that signal, not for Yin Tiejun himself. Had it not been for that, Wei Chonghu would have stood by and watched, even at the risk of a reprimand, for he could always explain that his limited rank and power prevented him from helping. In his previous life, that’s exactly what he had done, which led to Yin Tiejun’s imprisonment and the end of his career.

But this time, because Yang Dong made a different choice—resolutely taking the risk to make the call—everything had changed.

“Xiaodong, you haven’t met Miss Muyun yet, have you? Come, let me introduce you!” Yin Tiejun put down his glass and beamed at Yang Dong. “Su Muyun, daughter of Su Yuliang, Secretary of the Provincial Disciplinary Committee—my old leader’s daughter. The call you made, Muyun was the one who answered, wasn’t she?”

He looked at Su Muyun, who replied coldly, “Yes.”

“Miss Muyun, Xiaodong is an outstanding young man. You’re about the same age, you’ll have much in common—you should talk,” Yin Tiejun said, trying to recommend Yang Dong.

If Yang Dong could win Su Muyun’s favor, his career would surely advance more smoothly, given the breadth of her connections—far beyond his own.

Yet before he’d finished speaking, Su Muyun interjected mockingly, “Forget it. I wouldn’t dare chat with someone like him. My temperament is cold; if he listened to me, he might catch a chill.”

The smile froze on Yin Tiejun’s face as he stared at Su Muyun in astonishment. Wei Chonghu’s eyes widened—was this real enmity? Guan Mushan’s gaze drifted between Su Muyun and Yang Dong, brows furrowed in thought.

Hearing that familiar tone, Yang Dong suddenly understood. Of course—no wonder Su Muyun had been hostile from the start, even mocking him now. She was simply returning his own words from before, word for word.

“Yang Dong, apologize to Miss Muyun!” Wei Chonghu, though unaware of the cause of their conflict, knew the situation could not be allowed to fester. He signaled Yang Dong to apologize. Whatever the case, the one of lower status must apologize.

Su Muyun arched her brow, folding her arms as she looked at Yang Dong. She had actually come to think much better of him, but with her pride at stake, she intended to hold her ground. Among the children of provincial leaders in Jijiang, her status was among the highest. But as long as Yang Dong apologized, she would give him an easy way out.

Guan Mushan and his wife Sun Xiufen both turned to look at Yang Dong. Now, it was up to him.

Yin Tiejun’s face was grave, but he did not support making Yang Dong apologize—yet he could not say so outright, and remained silent.

Yang Dong slowly rose, first bowing to Yin Tiejun. “Uncle Yin, I’m sorry to have troubled you.” Then he looked to Wei Chonghu. “Sorry, Secretary Wei, but I’m afraid I must disappoint you. I did nothing wrong, and I will not apologize! I’ll be leaving now.”

With that, he turned and strode out, not sparing Su Muyun a glance. Apologize? Impossible! Was he in the wrong? Why should he be the one to apologize? Just because she was the daughter of the provincial disciplinary committee secretary? So what? She couldn’t even manage basic respect for others, always looking down her nose—why should he humble himself?

When it came to matters of dignity, Yang Dong would never back down.

At the table, everyone was dumbstruck—even Guan Mushan stared, eyes wide. For a moment, they all looked at each other, speechless.