Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

"Since it's a dead end either way, I might as well say everything, at least I can get my tongue out for now."

Upon hearing this, Song Qingshan let out a sneer without any attempt to hide it.

Who do you think you are?

Song Qingshan looked down at him, his eyes filled with piercing sarcasm: "Still wallowing in self-pity here, do you think you're Xiang Yu who committed suicide at the Wujiang River, or Jing Ke who faced the desolate Yi River? What are you lamenting about bad luck, making a wrong move, and sighing, 'Why has Heaven been so cruel to me?'"

Song Qingshan leaned back in his chair, his voice low but sharp as a blade scraping across Old Scar's face: "Let me make this clear to you. Someone like you deserves to be in this state. There's an old Chinese saying: 'Those who do many evil deeds will surely perish.'"

Upon hearing this, Old Scar's eyes twitched violently several times, and his withered chest heaved up and down.

His pale face instantly turned ashen as he stared intently at Song Qingshan, his murky eyes swirling with a mixture of humiliation, anger, and extreme resentment at being completely stripped bare.

"What, you're not convinced? Do you think I'm giving you some kind of high-and-mighty moral lecture?"

Looking at his unrepentant and fierce expression, Song Qingshan coldly uttered a few words: "I am an old Communist Party member. I don't believe in any of that nonsense about divine retribution or karma. But the fact that you've ended up like this is precisely the most basic dialectic."

"You just said it yourself, you're born with a cheap streak and don't want to work. You rely entirely on scheming in the gray areas, making a living by stepping on other people's bones and blood. When you do all sorts of bad things, you'll naturally start harming scum like yourself. When you tear each other apart in the gutter, you'll inevitably breed even more vicious and insane dogs, which will eventually destroy the living space of those who were originally living peaceful lives."

"Then, you only have two possible outcomes."

Song Qingshan looked at him, his tone devoid of any sympathy, only extremely rational coldness: "Either you are double-crossed and killed by someone even more unscrupulous than you; or you are driven to the brink by you and killed by ordinary people who only hope to live a peaceful and good life."

"No matter which of these two outcomes you experience, I will not have even the slightest bit of sympathy for you. This is the end you deserve; in short, you deserve it."

Song Qingshan dusted off the cuffs of his old overcoat, his tone as indifferent as if he were dismissing a dead dog: "Alright, it's pointless to talk to someone like you. Besides venting your frustrations, what else do you have to say?"

Upon hearing this, Old Scar stared intently at Song Qingshan.

The ward was silent for a few seconds. After his withered chest heaved violently a few times, Old Scar suddenly grinned, revealing a low, hoarse laugh that sounded like air leaking from his throat.

"You truly are worthy of being a high-ranking official..."

"You've got a whole set of theories, all this talk about dialectics, but I'm a roughneck and didn't understand. But I do agree with what you just said; I deserve what I got."

He turned his head with great effort, meeting Song Qingshan's gaze once more.

"Sir, judging from your aura, you must hold a very high position, right?"

Old Scar gritted his teeth, his throat emitting labored, bellows-like gasps, and said, word by word, "Since I'm already going to die here, I might as well not let anyone else have it easy."

He swallowed hard, his saliva stained with blood, and a sudden glint of madness and defiance, like a wolf on its deathbed, flashed in his cloudy eyes.

"I have a deadly trump card. The person I've offended holds a very high position and has many connections." Old Scarface stared intently at Song Qingshan. "Let's see if you, sir, have the guts to sever ties with this!"

The ward fell silent.

Song Qingshan didn't reply immediately. Instead, he picked up the enamel mug beside him and slowly took a sip of tea.

Then, he put down his teacup and squinted at the old scar on the hospital bed.

"Are you trying to goad me?"

Song Qingshan's tone was flat, revealing no emotion: "Knowing you can't survive, you want to use me to drag the people behind you down with you?"

Old Scar let out a dry, whistling laugh, but did not deny it.

"It all depends on whether you dare to interfere." Old Scar panted heavily, his eyes filled with malice. "That man is far more wicked than I am."

"Speak."

Song Qingshan looked at him, his voice not loud, but it carried absolute confidence: "Who is it? What happened? In this area, there's nothing I wouldn't dare to interfere with."

Old Scar took a deep breath of the blood-stained air, opened his chapped lips, and was just about to utter that name.

"Knock knock knock—"

There was a sudden knock on the ward door.

Immediately afterwards, the guard on duty pushed open the door halfway and stood at the door to report: "Sir, Director Li from the Foreign Trade Bureau and Deputy Secretary Chen from the Municipal Party Committee have come over and said they want to see you."

Upon hearing these two titles, especially those containing the words "municipal party committee member" and "bureau chief," the old scar on the hospital bed instantly shut his mouth, a deep wariness flashing in his cloudy eyes, and he swallowed back the words he was about to utter.

Song Qingshan remained seated in his chair, his posture unchanged, only his gray eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Li Yuanchao from the Foreign Trade Bureau, and Chen Jianguo from the Municipal Party Committee?"

Song Qingshan slowly read the two people's names aloud, then looked up at the guard at the door and asked, "Did they come together?"

"Yes, sir, the two leaders came to the door together," the guard replied truthfully.

That's quite unusual.

Song Qingshan leaned back in his chair, a sharp glint flashing in his deep old eyes: "Chen Jianguo and Li Yuanchao have been fighting tooth and nail over the Hongxing Machinery Factory for the past two weeks. How come they've suddenly become allies and come to see me together?"

He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps he saw through the schemes outside, before glancing thoughtfully at Old Scar, who was now dressed as a dead dog again on the hospital bed.

"I think they're probably up to something behind the scenes."

Upon hearing the old commander's blunt assessment, the guard standing at the door was caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to respond or not. He could only cough awkwardly and cautiously inquire, "Mr. Song, what do you mean?"

Song Qingshan looked away, dusted off the cuffs of his old coat, and spoke in a flat tone.

"Since they've come to us, can we just turn them away?"

Song Qingshan raised his chin: "Let them all come in, let me see what kind of opera they're performing."