Handong: Sha Li wants political achievements? I'll shut down the entire province.

On the big screen, the straight green line looked like a dead bamboo snake.

It lay motionless on the limit-down board, exuding a putrid, deathly aura.

It's been three whole days.

For three whole trading days, the seven core stocks of the Zhong family did not even show the slightest ripple of a rebound.

In Beijing's CBD, the Zhong family's secret underground trading room was eerily quiet.

Empty Red Bull cans and crumpled pieces of paper were scattered on the ground.

Chief trader Old K slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the keyboard that gleamed with a dim light.

"Brother K, another million sell orders have been placed on the limit-down board."

The technician's voice was hoarse, as if he were reading out the Chung family's obituary.

Old K didn't even look up, and pushed the keyboard and mouse in his hand away.

He slowly stood up, tore off his work badge from around his neck, and casually threw it into the trash can.

"What's the point of reporting it? Even a god couldn't pry this board open."

He picked up his suit jacket and walked out without looking back.

"K-bro, where are you going? The market hasn't closed yet!" The technician panicked.

Old K sneered, but didn't stop walking.

"Where to? Go queue up on the rooftop, or run away from the train station. Anyway, I can't do this job anymore."

Meanwhile, at the Zhong family villa in Xishan.

In the high-ceilinged, luxurious living room, the floor was covered with shredded A4 paper.

Those were all loan withdrawal notices sent overnight by major banks, along with a thick stack of lawyer's letters demanding payment.

Zhong Xiaoai slumped on the leather sofa.

Her usually meticulously styled wavy hair now looked like a bird's nest on her head.

The haute couture silk pajamas were stained with coffee and cigarette ash, and the whites of her eyes were filled with alarming red blood vessels.

"Ring ring—"

The landline phone on the coffee table started blaring again.

This is the forty-seventh debt collection call this morning.

"Call it! Call it and let's see what other bastards are going to spout!"

Zhong Xiaoai grabbed an ashtray and smashed it against the wall, shards of glass scattering everywhere.

The assistant next to him pressed the speakerphone button with trembling hands, barely daring to breathe.

"Xiao Ai, this is Lao Li."

On the other end of the phone was one of the Zhong family's most trusted insiders.

"Uncle Li! When are you going to transfer the funds you have? If you don't intervene to save the market, we're all finished!"

Zhong Xiaoai, as if grasping at a lifeline, lunged forward and screamed into the microphone.

The person opposite him chuckled twice, his laughter carrying a chilling indifference that sent shivers down one's spine.

"Xiao Ai, I'm in a tough spot too. The market is in a state of panic right now, and all my funds are frozen."

Old Li sighed, his tone suddenly becoming harsh.

"I'm calling to let you know that I've withdrawn my investment from the infrastructure project we were working on together."

"What did you say?!" Zhong Xiaoai's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Not only did I withdraw my investment, but I also sold all the shares of Zhongjia that I had."

Old Li didn't hold back at all and spoke his mind directly.

"Your family messed with the wrong people. We small business owners need to make a living, don't we?"

"You dare to betray me? You believe I'll make sure you can't stay in the capital!"

Zhong Xiaoai screamed hysterically.

"Beep beep beep—"

The only response she received was a cold, silent tone.

Zhong Xiaoai was so angry that she trembled all over and slapped her assistant hard across the face.

The beating caused the little girl to fall to the ground, covering her face and sobbing.

"Go investigate! Go ask the Tianjin Customs and the highway administration! What are they doing?!"

Zhong Xiaoai paced around the living room like a trapped beast, her high heels creaking on the broken porcelain shards.

"Didn't they say they seized Lingxiao Consortium's goods? Why does Yan Qingfeng still have money to sabotage our operations?!"

The assistant's tears streamed down her face, and she scrambled backward as if she were crawling on the ground.

"Mr. Zhong... the blacklist over there was completely lifted last night."

"They withdrew? Who gave them the guts to withdraw!"

"When the wall falls, everyone pushes it down, Mr. Zhong!" The assistant burst into tears.

"When people saw that our stock crashed and our market value evaporated by nearly 100 billion in three days, they knew that the Zhong family was doomed."

The assistant swallowed hard and poured out a whole bunch of bad news.

"Tianjin Customs stamped the release stamp for Ling Xiao's lithography machine parts overnight and even sent police cars to escort him."

"The highway administration at those seven provincial exits directly waived the toll fees for Ling Xiao's convoy."

The assistant's words were like a blunt knife, shattering Zhong Xiaoai's pride and confidence into pieces.

"They said exactly what they meant: anyone who dares to stop Master Yan's goods is risking their own official position!"

"They've rebelled...they've all fucking rebelled!"

Zhong Xiaoai's legs went weak, and she fell heavily back onto the sofa.

She thought power could crush capital, but capital only took three days.

They shattered her once-proud network of connections into a pile of mud.

A market capitalization of nearly 100 billion.

It vanished into thin air on the limit down, leaving not a trace.

"Squeak."

The door to the first-floor guest bedroom was opened a crack.

Hou Liangping huddled behind the door, peeking out half of his messy head.

He wasn't even wearing shoes, his bare feet were on the wooden floor, and his eyes were shifty like a turtle hibernating for the winter.

"Xiao Ai... are there any debt collectors outside?"

He lowered his voice, which trembled.

For the past three days, he hasn't dared to step out of the living room door.

He was terrified that some creditor would burst in and take their anger out on him, a powerless and insignificant son-in-law.

Zhong Xiaoai slowly turned her head and stared intently at the man behind the door.

Looking at Hou Liangping's cowardly and spineless demeanor, she suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

"Get out here right now!"

Zhong Xiaoai rushed over, grabbed Hou Liangping by the collar, and dragged him out through the crack in the door.

"Slap! Slap!"

With a swift left and right motion, two heavy slaps landed directly on Hou Liangping's face.

Hou Liangping was so badly beaten that he saw stars and collapsed onto the floor covered in shredded paper.

"Useless! A bunch of useless trash!"

Zhong Xiaoai bit her lower lip until it bled, and the metallic taste of blood spread through her mouth.

"If you hadn't gone to Handong to provoke Yan Qingfeng, would the Zhong family have fallen to this state today!"

Hou Liangping covered his face, tears and snot streaming down his face.

"Xiao Ai, this isn't my fault! It's Yan Qingfeng who's gone too far!"

He scrambled backward, using both hands and feet, while shamelessly shirking responsibility.

"We still have connections! Go find some people, find those bigwigs who can control capital!"

Zhong Xiaoai let out a cold laugh, a laugh that sent chills down one's spine.

Find someone?

Now, those uncles and elders who used to line up to give her gifts during holidays are no longer answering her calls.

Yan Qingfeng's ruthless quantitative machine was gaping its bloody maw.

We'll wait until tomorrow when the market opens to swallow the last bit of the Zhong family's bones.

Zhong Xiaoai took a deep breath, her chest heaving violently.

She reached out and wiped the remaining makeup from her face, her eyes gradually turning sinister and crazed.

She walked to the safe at the back of the living room and pressed a series of fingerprints.

Take out a palm-sized black encrypted phone from the bottom layer.

This phone has only one number in it.

That was something even the patriarch of the Zhong family repeatedly emphasized and instructed within the Beijing social circle when he was alive.

It is an existence that should never be provoked unless absolutely necessary.

Wei Zixuan, a top-tier third-generation member of the elite in Beijing.

These people hold sovereign-level private equity funds that are powerful enough to overturn a country's economy.

Getting involved with them is like asking a tiger for its skin; you'll get your bones chewed up.

But Zhong Xiaoai had no choice.

With trembling fingers, she pressed the dial key with the gold-embossed numbers.

The phone rang for a long time.

Zhong Xiaoai's palms were so sweaty that she could barely hold onto the small machine.

"Click".

The phone is on.

The deafening roar of a supercar engine, mixed with the coquettish laughter of several women, instantly pierced through the receiver.

"Hello, who is this?"

A lazy, arrogant young male voice came over.

Zhong Xiaoai swallowed hard and forced out a fawning laugh.

"Young Master Wei, it's me, Xiao Ai."

"Oh, it's Miss Zhong."

Wei Zixuan laughed unrestrainedly on the other end of the line.

He also seemed to casually pinch the woman next to him, eliciting a soft cry.

"These past few days, your family's funeral music has been playing everywhere in the financial world. I heard you're almost being played to death by those peasants from Handong?"

Zhong Xiaoai gritted her teeth in humiliation, her nails digging deep into her palms.

"Young Master Wei, as long as you are willing to bring your own capital to save the Zhong family's business, I will offer you all the remaining assets of the Zhong family."

The engine noise on the other end of the phone gradually subsided.

Wei Zixuan stopped the car, lit a cigar, and took a deep drag.

"Sister Xiao Ai, you begged me for this."