Cao Binghe forced a bitter smile.
There were some things that were truly difficult to articulate.
To use an analogy from Wuxia novels, wherever there are people, there will be Jianghu—conflicts and rivalries.
Lan Changhua was untouchable by those big shots, and Chu Xuwei, as the Department Director, was also beyond their reach. But he himself was just a small fry.
Although he and Chu Xuwei had the same teacher, a twenty-year age gap separated them. What kind of bond could realistically exist?
Helping once was acceptable, twice was still manageable. But if he helped a third time, or a fourth, how would Chu Xuwei perceive him?
As for asking Lan Changhua for help, that was also an option. But Lan Changhua was already seventy; how many more times could he lend a hand?
Besides, he was a student, an assistant—someone meant to help Lan Changhua manage affairs, not someone for Lan Changhua to bail out.
