Nominal: Hou Liangping blocking the door? He was slapped away!

The accompanying secretary quickly stepped forward and held up a red document.

"Top Secret Classification: 'Exemption Letter from the Frontline Coordination Group'!"

The red document trembled twice in the night breeze.

"Military and civilian cooperation units have no right to inspect, detain, or restrict passage!"

The special operations company commander took the document and handed it to Zhou Weiguo, who had just arrived.

Zhou Weiguo, wearing gloves, examined the stamp against the light and then turned to the issuance page.

His expression tightened.

This thing can't be faked.

The paper is real, the stamp is real, and the signature/approval port is real.

Zhou Weiguo picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Sir, the classified seal is genuine. Forcibly confiscating it might be considered overstepping our bounds and disobeying orders."

The northern command post was located in the military side building.

Shen Zhong stood behind the glass and could see the chaotic shadows at the gangway entrance.

He took the military megaphone and pressed the switch with his thumb.

The loudspeakers on the high poles in the airport's restricted area lit up simultaneously.

"Who cares about any letter!"

These words drowned out the sound of the wind and the shouts of the people at the hatch.

"No exceptions during the period of martial law. Take him down first, then verify him slowly!"

Heng Shichang's expression finally changed.

He gripped the hatch frame and shouted at the people below.

"Shen Zhong, how dare you!"

A deep, resonant voice came from the loudspeaker.

"Heng Shichang, you'd better cooperate now."

"I have a top-secret clearance letter!"

"The airport is under martial law."

"This is disobeying orders!"

"Put on the handcuffs first."

With those three words spoken, the special forces were mobilized.

The person in the lead tried to block him, but a special forces soldier kicked his knee away, causing him to kneel down on the gangway and be pinned down by the soldier's hand.

Another person reached out to grab the documents, but as soon as their hand was raised, their shoulder was pressed down by the butt of a gun.

Heng Shichang took a half step back.

His secretary behind him tried to close the hatch, but as soon as the hatch moved, a special forces soldier stepped in and blocked the door with a combat boot.

"Back off!"

Several accompanying personnel in the cabin were forced to sit next to their seats, their hands pressed against their heads, afraid to touch their suitcases.

Heng Shichang was still standing.

The small leather suitcase in his hand was snatched away by the team members, the metal buckle snapped open, and it was then put into an evidence bag and taken away.

"You will regret this."

The special operations company commander didn't argue with him.

Two team members grabbed Heng Shichang's arms from the left and right and pushed him down from the hatch.

Heng Shichang was still trying to brace the gangway with his feet.

The next second, he was pressed against the gangway platform, his face against the anti-slip steel plate, his glasses askew to one side.

The heavy handcuffs clicked shut.

The sound wasn't loud.

But everyone standing in the quarantine area could hear it clearly.

Zhou Weiguo watched as the handcuffs were securely placed before resealing the pass into the evidence bag.

He turned to look at the side building.

Shen Zhong stood under the lamp, his military uniform crisp and clear, with no cigarette in his hand and no extra expression on his face.

Heng Shichang was still gritting his teeth as two special forces soldiers helped him down the gangway.

"I want to see the person who issued the document!"

Shen Zhong held the megaphone, his voice steady.

"You'll see the combat readiness review team first."

Below the gangway, the rear door of the escort vehicle opens.

The special forces soldiers forced Heng Shichang inside, and the car door slammed shut.

The company commander's report came through the walkie-talkie.

"The target, Heng Shichang, has been handcuffed and is being escorted off the plane."

Military side building on the northern line.

Heng Shichang was carried into the second basement level by two special forces soldiers. The metal doors slammed shut one after another, the hinges banging shut, as if shutting out all the air from the airport.

His overcoat, scarf, glasses, small suitcase, and even the fine fountain pen tucked in his cuff were all placed on a stainless steel stand, illuminated by a numbered light.

The deep interrogation room was not large.

Iron table, iron chair, camera, soundproof wall, and a military-grade spectrum screen standing in the corner, with green lines running back and forth as if watching a person's breathing.

When Heng Shichang sat down, he still had his chin raised, his handcuffs fastened to the chair ring, and his cuffs pressed flat, as if the person who had just been pinned down on the gangway had never even touched him.

Zhou Weiguo turned a page of the evidence list and gestured for the box to be opened.

The small leather suitcase was placed in the center of the table. The outer shell was made of old-fashioned cowhide with a double-layered spring clip for the lock. It looked ordinary on the surface, but the corners were reinforced with anti-tamper steel plates.

One special forces soldier took the hydraulic pry bar and clamped the lock lug, another held down the box, and a third recorded the action. Click. The first layer of lock springs broke.

With another press, a half-inch dark groove popped out from the inside of the box. The groove was wrapped with lead foil and black film, which was very carefully made, clearly to prevent scanning and light transmission.

Zhou Weiguo reached inside and pulled out a black leather communication wallet. The leather was worn and frayed, and the edges were curled, as if it had been used for many years.

He handed the item to Shen Zhong.

Shen Zhong's military uniform was buttoned all the way up, his epaulets pressing down on the light, and the cigarette in his hand remained unlit. He turned to the first page, his gaze falling down, and then no one in the room spoke again.

There were no pleasantries, no glances exchanged, only pages of short lists in the wallet. East China, South China, Northwest China, Southwest China—each province was followed by a code name, interface, backup funding route, and resource quota.

Q1 is left blank, no characters are written. Q2 is followed by the core transfer station. Q5 is attached to the Handong line. Q7 is attached to the old Haizhou line. Further on, several instances of "March 3rd" are circled in red.

"The Qingtai caliber remains unchanged, and Qin Kewen's name will continue to be used."

"After the March 3rd meeting, the old cases will remain unchanged, and the external white gloves will be replaced."

"The Hengshui Municipal Government issued an instruction that outsiders should not submit documents, and those in contact with the individuals should be dispatched to different provinces."

Each sentence is short. The shorter, the more profound. Comparing the preceding and following sentences, the withdrawal of the Haizhou case file, the short selling in Handong, the analysis of the Jia Yi archives, and the hospital medication all fit together perfectly.

Zhou Weiguo turned to the next few pages, his lips pressed tightly together. The pages listed the personnel, funds, vehicles, and equipment available to each province, down to the specific person in charge of a particular server room's jump server.

"If this thing gets into the case file, half of the peripheral liaison office will have to kneel down."

Heng Shichang raised the handcuffs, and the iron rings bumped against the edge of the table.

"You think you can fool people with an old notebook? I've been retired for a long time. I used to manage the scheduling of the retired cadres' service system. If you want to use the name of the liaison office, I can't stop you."

He leaned back in his chair, placed his glasses on the corner of the table, and said in a steady tone, "As for outsiders and top-secret information, I've never even heard of them."

Shen Zhong closed the black leather wallet and placed it in front of him, without arguing with him.

What you've heard of is not important.

He picked up a tiny metal chip, no bigger than a grain of rice, from the evidence tray and slapped it on the iron table. *Snap.* The light revealed the micro-engraved serial number on its edge.

Zhou Weiguo then placed down another one, the same size and sealed with glue, but the outer shell was stained with medicine, taken from the drug-poisoning assassin at Handong Hospital.

The two chips lay side by side, like two nails. One was an infiltration device from a fake leak case on the northern front, and the other was a hidden hand that administered medication in a hospital ward.

Heng Shichang glanced at the first one, his expression still tense. But when he saw the second one, his shoulders stiffened for a beat, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

Shen Zhong took two steps forward and stood under the lamp, the oppressive feeling pushing forward against the table.

"Terrorism-related money laundering, infiltration and espionage, physical assassination—the external liaison office is involved in everything."

"Of these two identical chips, one infiltrated the northern front and the other infiltrated a ward. If you retreat any further, the military court will only classify your case in four words."

He looked at Heng Shichang, his voice flat.

"Treason charge."