Special forces soldier demobilization: Starting from the county government compound, a meteoric rise

That night, late at night.

On the road leading to the Xishan Sanatorium in the western suburbs of Beijing, glaring red and blue police lights were unusually lit.

A dozen or so black armored vehicles with special license plates formed a silent and menacing steel torrent, tearing through the thick night.

The convoy didn't honk its horn; the only sound was the "rustling" of wheels rolling over the wet road, like a dirge for the end of an old era.

Liu Ming sat in the back seat of the lead car, still wearing his crisp Zhongshan suit. He stared expressionlessly at the rapidly receding darkness outside the window, his deep eyes reflecting the shifting red and blue light outside, revealing no emotion whatsoever.

"Boss, everything's arranged."

The tank's voice came through the vehicle's communicator, carrying a hint of barely suppressed excitement: "Qincheng has cleared out an entire prison area overnight, making sure these old bastards live 'comfortably'."

Furthermore, Liang Qunfeng's core henchmen have all been put on the plane; they're probably begging to become witnesses right now.

"Let him calm down first," Liu Ming replied calmly. "Once he gets to Qincheng and meets Zheng Desheng, he'll naturally know what to choose."

The convoy eventually stopped in front of the heavily guarded courtyard house.

The courtyard was brightly lit, but the once solemn and suffocating atmosphere had vanished. In its place was a desolate sense of utter disarray. The once sharp-eyed guards of the Central Security Bureau now bowed their heads and silently surrendered their sidearms.

Liu Ming pushed open the car door and walked straight into the familiar study.

In the study, the sandalwood incense had burned out, leaving only a wisp of faint smoke.

Zheng Desheng no longer wore the old military uniform that symbolized his merits, but instead put on an extremely ordinary gray cloth outfit. He no longer sat behind the mahogany desk that symbolized power, but sat alone in a wicker chair by the window, like an ordinary old man waiting for his fate to be judged.

His once majestic face was now covered with deep wrinkles and age spots, and his cloudy eyes had lost their former brilliance, leaving only a deathly silence.

An era has finally come to an end.

"Is it all over?"

Zheng Desheng didn't turn around, but just looked out at the endless darkness, his voice hoarse as if it were being squeezed out of a rusty bellows.

"it's over."

Liu Ming walked behind him and gently placed a red arrest warrant issued by the Supreme Court on the coffee table next to him.

"Weren't your students working tirelessly for you?" Zheng Desheng's lips curled into a self-deprecating bitter smile. "What, they couldn't save me as their teacher?"

"They're too busy taking care of themselves right now." Liu Ming's tone was devoid of any emotion. "Old Zheng, you promoted more than three hundred cadres when you were in office."

Just now, the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CCDI) initiated "shuanggui" (a form of internal party discipline) procedures against 127 of them. Your vast network woven with personal connections and vested interests has now rotted.

Zheng Desheng's body trembled violently!

He slowly turned his head, and in his cloudy old eyes, a genuine, deep-seated fear finally appeared!

He had calculated everything, thinking that even if he fell from grace, he could still preserve his dignity thanks to his extensive network of connections.

But he never expected that Liu Ming, this madwoman, would act so unpredictably!

He's not cutting down trees, he's digging them up by the roots!

"You...you're a madman..." Zheng De-sheng pointed at Liu Ming, his lips trembling, unable to utter a complete sentence.

Liu Ming ignored his curses, simply turned her head slightly, and spoke calmly to the two members of the task force standing outside the door.

"The time has come. Comrade Zheng Desheng, please set off."

Two tall police officers stepped forward, one of them taking out a pair of gleaming handcuffs.

As those cold handcuffs were about to be fastened to those hands that had once signed countless national documents and even wielded great power on the United Nations podium, Zheng Desheng's already withered body suddenly erupted with the last bit of dignity that belonged to those in power!

"I'll walk by myself!"

He roared, shoved the police officer in front of him, and staggered to his feet from the wicker chair.

He didn't look at Liu Ming again, but simply straightened his cheap cloth clothes and then walked out of the study where he had spent his whole life.

When he stepped out of the courtyard gate and saw the endless line of black convoys with flashing red and blue police lights, his body, which he had been holding firm, finally swayed.

An era has passed.

An era that once made him powerful and allowed him to believe that he could be above the law of the country simply by virtue of his "merits" is completely over.

The cold rain lashed against his full head of white hair, sliding down his aged cheeks, indistinguishable between rain and tears.

"Please, Mr. Zheng."

Tank personally opened the door of the armored vehicle leading to Qincheng Prison for him, his tone devoid of victor's smugness, only displaying a routine indifference.

Zheng Desheng did not get on the car immediately.

He turned back one last time and glanced at the young man standing under the eaves, his posture as straight as a sword.

In the rain, the young man's face appeared somewhat blurred, but his eyes shone like two cold stars, as if they could pierce through all the darkness and filth in the world.

"I...I have something I want to ask you." Zheng Desheng's voice sounded somewhat faint in the wind and rain.

Liu Ming didn't speak, she just looked at him quietly.

"If... if I hadn't chosen that path back then, and instead, like you, persisted in independent research and development... could we really have won?"

This problem, like a boulder, weighed heavily on everyone's hearts.

Liu Ming remained silent for a long time.

He looked at this former hero, now a traitor to the country, and at the last trace of confusion in his cloudy eyes. Finally, he slowly nodded.

"able."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a powerful force that could convince heaven and earth.

"Because the word 'admitting defeat' has never been part of the core of this nation."

Zheng Desheng was stunned.

After a long while, he let out a mournful laugh, like that of a night owl.

The laughter was filled with endless regret and sorrow.

He said nothing more, bent his once proud back, and climbed into the prison van that would end his life.

The car door slammed shut.

An era has come to an end.

Liu Ming stood in the rain, watching the steel torrent slowly sail away and finally disappear into the endless night.

He took out his phone and dialed Mr. Lin's number.

"Mr. Lin, it's all over."

On the other end of the phone, the old man let out a sigh of relief.

"Xiao Liu, thank you for your hard work."

"It's not hard work," Liu Ming said softly, looking at the dark clouds in the sky. "I just feel a little sad."

Zheng Desheng slowly turned his head and took one last look at the city where he had lived his whole life through the thick bulletproof glass of the car window.

His lips moved slightly, as if he were speaking to himself, or perhaps to the departing young figure, saying something only he could hear.

"I lost to you, but I lost even more to this era."