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

Xiao Li's psychological defenses completely collapsed under the double blow of "family" and "disciplinary committee".

His mouth was agape, like a dying fish thrown ashore, only able to gasp for breath in despair, tears and snot streaming down his face.

Looking at the mud beneath his feet, which had completely lost its will to resist, Chen Jianguo's murderous glint subsided slightly.

He slowly released his grip on Xiao Li's collar, casually tossing the brass paperweight he had been holding high back onto the solid wood desk with a dull thud.

Chen Jianguo bent down, picked up the note that had fallen on the carpet, and without saying a word, stuffed it into Xiao Li's still trembling hand. Then he forcefully closed Xiao Li's fingers and gripped it tightly.

He reached out his other hand and, just as he had done countless times to comfort his subordinates, patted Xiao Li heavily on the shoulder.

At this moment, his voice suddenly lost its previous frenzy and became unusually hoarse and tired: "Little Li, this is the last hurdle we need to overcome."

Xiao Li raised his head blankly, his eyes, full of tears and bloodshot, revealing a hint of indifference.

"Once Old Scar dies, there will be no way to verify the facts, and the case of the Red Star Factory will be completely closed."

Chen Jianguo stared into his eyes, his tone revealing a seductive resolve, "After finishing this last thing and cleaning up the mess, I'll naturally have ways to deal with the provincial party committee. At worst, I'll feign illness, hand over the position of municipal party secretary, and take early sick leave to go home and fish."

He took a deep breath and continued to paint a rosy picture for his secretary, who was on the verge of collapse: "As long as I land safely, the higher-ups won't investigate me so relentlessly anymore, and the disciplinary committee's fire will definitely not reach you. At that time, you can take the money you've saved over the years, take your wife and children abroad, or go into business, and we'll go our separate ways. You can live the rest of your life with a clean conscience and never have to live such a life of anxiety again."

Chen Jianguo straightened up, pointed towards the basement, and said in a cold, hard voice, "Go, this is our last chance for survival, and for our families."

Xiao Li nodded blankly.

He clutched the note soaked in cold sweat tightly in his hand, like a soulless walking corpse, and shakily got up from the carpet.

He didn't look at Chen Jianguo again, but dragged his heavy legs, which felt like they were filled with lead, step by step toward the secret door leading to the underground security room.

With a soft "click," the hidden door slammed shut.

The huge office of the municipal party secretary fell into a suffocating silence once again.

Chen Jianguo slumped back into his leather chair, his hands tightly covering his face, which was covered in cold sweat, like a trapped beast waiting for the outcome of his final gamble.

Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink.

Three old Beijing Jeep 212 police cars, like three rusty knives tearing through the night, sped along the bumpy asphalt road with their sirens blaring.

The canvas roof rattled in the night wind, and the interior was filled with the strong smell of gasoline and cheap tobacco.

In the passenger seat of the lead jeep, Wu Jianming, deputy captain of the city's criminal investigation team, was resting with his eyes closed.

He strutted around with his police uniform jacket open, a half-burnt Daqianmen cigarette between his fingers, the crimson butt glowing intermittently in the dimly lit carriage.

"Sizzle—"

Suddenly, the car's black-and-white radio on the center console emitted a piercing static, followed by the voice of the duty officer from the city bureau's command center: "Calling Dongguai, calling Dongguai. Captain Wu, we just received an inside call saying there's an emergency at your home. They want you to call back immediately if you pass by a place with a phone. The number is..."

Upon hearing the special extension number announced on the radio, Wu Jianming's fingers, which were holding a cigarette, suddenly stiffened.

He opened his eyes, a hint of deathly palpable in them.

He knew better than anyone that it wasn't a home phone call at all, but a deadly code for the underground hotline in Chen Jianguo's office.

"Stop in front of that state-run guesthouse up ahead," Wu Jianming instructed the young police officer driving the car in a hoarse voice.

The jeep braked suddenly and came to a stop on the side of the road.

Wu Jianming pushed open the car door and stepped into the night. He borrowed the crank-operated telephone at the front desk of the guesthouse and dialed the number.

Two minutes later.

Wu Jianming opened the car door again and sat back in the passenger seat.

The car doors slammed shut, and the air pressure inside the carriage was so low that it was hard to breathe.

Wu Jianming took a deep breath and smashed the cigarette butt on the floor mat.

Then, he slowly reached into the leather holster on his lower back and pulled out the Type 54 pistol, its blued color almost worn off.

"Click."

The crisp sound of a bullet being chambered was particularly jarring in the drafty carriage.

The young police officer driving the car was startled, gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands, and asked cautiously, "Captain Wu, we haven't even arrived at the scene yet, why is the gun already loaded?"

Wu Jianming didn't turn around. His thumb lightly stroked the cold barrel of the gun, his face expressionless, his voice as calm as still water: "The suspect, Old Scar, is a serious criminal with murder on his hands. Once we get to the scene, all of you stay outside and set up a perimeter. No matter what happens inside, no one is allowed to rush in without my order. Understand?"

"Understood!" the young officer replied loudly, assuming it was just a routine deployment for a dangerous mission.

Wu Jianming turned to look at the night rushing past the window, silently gripped the gun in his hand, and switched the safety to the ready-to-fire position.

The stormy night three years ago flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

His good-for-nothing younger brother, Wu Jianjun, accidentally stabbed a customs policeman to death at the South Suburb Wharf for a few thousand yuan in smuggling profits.

That was a heinous crime of murdering a police officer! What should have been a swift and decisive crackdown was instead covered up by Chen Jianguo, who was then the executive vice mayor.

The bloodstained murder weapon and the written confession were all locked in the coded safe in Chen Jianguo's office.

From that day on, Wu Jianming, the "iron policeman" who was once unyielding in the police force, died.

The only one that survived was a dog that Chen Jianguo kept at the police station, ready to bite at any moment.

This life was lent out three years ago, and today it's just being returned with interest.

Looking through the mottled window of the jeep at the receding, dim streetlights outside, Wu Jianming's cold, hard eye muscles twitched slightly.

He thought of the window in his house that was probably still lit up at that moment.

Just before leaving to receive the call, his wife was lighting a coal stove in the narrow corridor of the tenement building. She was coughing from the smoke, but she was still smiling and saying that she would make his favorite cabbage and pork dumplings for him to eat hot when he got back from his night shift.

The six-year-old son, wearing an old sweater covered in patches, was clumsily writing pinyin on a small square table. Hearing the noise, he ran over and hugged his leg, calling out in a childish voice, "Daddy, come home early."

Can not go back.

Wu Jianming closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with difficulty.

If Old Scar doesn't die tonight, Chen Jianguo will be in trouble.

If Chen Jianguo's career is ruined, he will definitely reveal all the death warrants in the safe, and his brother will immediately be shot.

Moreover, given Chen Jianguo's ruthless methods, he would definitely use all his remaining connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles to drive his wife and children to a dead end before he was arrested.

Only if he dies in a city hospital ward, bearing all the secrets and all the filth with his life, can his brother live, and his wife and children continue to live peaceful, ordinary lives in this world.

Even if the whole family has to bear the stigma of punishment or being labeled as the family of a criminal, at least they will still be alive.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

Wu Jianming silently recited a sentence in his heart.

Wu Jianming silently recited a sentence in his heart.

When he opened his eyes again, the last trace of struggle in his eyes had been completely replaced by resolute determination.

He was like an emotionless killing machine, staring intently at the city hospital gate that was getting closer and closer to the jeep.