There was a woman in the ministry who had been watching Wei Zhengnan for some time.
I had noticed her at the third formal gathering we attended together as a household, back when the investigation was still in its early stages. She was the wife of a mid-level official — a position that would have made her invisible in most company, which I suspected was partly intentional. She had the particular quality of attention I recognized from people who made careful observations and did not share them readily.
Her name was Madame Feng Ruolan. She was perhaps forty, elegant in the manner of women who have learned that elegance is the least interrogated form of armor. And she watched Wei Zhengnan the way a person watches something they are trying to solve.
