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

Inside the luxury suite, red lights flashed wildly, and the blaring alarm pierced eardrums.

The black, encrypted cell phone on the table was vibrating wildly on the glass coffee table.

Wei Zixuan collapsed amidst the shards of broken glass on the floor.

He stared intently at the constantly lighting screen, as if it were a ticking time bomb.

The name jumping above belongs to an old fox in the No. 4 courtyard of Beijing Military License Plate Company.

In that 150 billion yuan fund pool, there is a full 30 billion yuan of that tycoon's retirement money.

Wei Zixuan's hands trembled as he pressed the answer button.

Before he could even open his dry lips, a deafening roar exploded through the receiver.

"Wei Zixuan! You damned beast!"

"150 billion! You squandered it all in three minutes! Even burning paper money wouldn't have taken that long!"

Wei Zixuan trembled with fear and scrambled to grab his phone, crying out for justice.

"Old Li, please let me explain. It was that man surnamed Yan from Handong who set this trap..."

"Explanation my ass! I don't care what method you use!"

The voice on the other end of the phone was filled with a chilling murderous intent.

"If the money isn't back in your account by dawn, I'll skin your whole family alive and dump them into the sea!"

"Beep beep beep—"

The call to the blind man was like a death knell, making Wei Zixuan's head buzz.

He loosened his grip, and the valuable security phone crashed onto the marble.

Wei Zixuan sprang up from the ground and shoved Zhong Xiaoai, who was blocking his way.

"Get out of the way! Don't block my way!"

Hou Liangping huddled in the corner, frightened by his mad dog-like demeanor and backing away.

"Young Master Wei, we've lost all our money! You have to find a way to save the Zhong family!"

Zhong Xiaoai lunged forward, grabbing Wei Zixuan's suit sleeve tightly and screaming.

"Save your mother! The Zhong family ruined my life!"

Wei Zixuan slapped Zhong Xiaoai across the face, knocking her onto the sofa.

He didn't even put his shoes on properly before rushing out of the private room, stepping through the spilled drinks.

"To the airport! Charter a plane immediately! To Handong!"

Wei Zixuan screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice filled with the panic of being driven to a dead end.

2:00 AM, Gyeongju International Airport.

A Gulfstream private jet slid through the night sky and made a hasty landing on the runway.

Wei Zixuan stumbled down the gangway, shivering as the cold autumn wind blew through him.

Once outside the arrivals hall, the entire passageway was completely deserted.

A black Mercedes-Benz van was waiting by the roadside.

"Quick! To the Jingzhou Grand Hotel! Floor the gas!"

Wei Zixuan climbed into the back seat and anxiously pounded on the back of the seat in front of him.

The car sped through the night.

As Wei Zixuan watched the Lingxiao Consortium's GG brand logo flash past the car window, his heart sank to the bottom.

This is Yan Qingfeng's territory.

Even the air here is permeated with the cold rules set by that man.

His once arrogant demeanor in Beijing has long been shattered by those short orders worth hundreds of billions.

3 a.m., top floor of Jingzhou Hotel.

The entire floor was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; the thick, pure wool carpet absorbed all footsteps.

Wei Zixuan stumbled and ran out of the elevator.

His suit was wrinkled, and his hair was a mess, like a bird's nest. He was nowhere near as glamorous as a third-generation prince.

The heavy double wooden door of the presidential suite was right in front of me.

He grasped at the last straw and was about to rush over and smash the door.

Suddenly, a thick, iron-like arm shot out from the side.

He grabbed Wei Zixuan by the back of the neck.

"What are you doing here causing trouble in the middle of the night? Are you tired of living?"

Shen Pojun stood like a black tower blocking the doorway, exuding a strong aura of menace.

Wei Zixuan was being strangled so badly he could hardly breathe, and he kicked and thrashed about like a turtle.

"Let me go! I am Wei Zixuan from the Wei family of the capital! I want to see Master Yan!"

He subconsciously tried to use his status as the crown prince of the capital to intimidate others.

Shen Pojun scoffed coldly and swung his large palm in a wide arc to slap him.

"Snapped!"

The slap landed squarely, echoing loudly in the quiet corridor.

Wei Zixuan's face swelled up instantly, and his mouth cracked, with blood seeping out.

My head was buzzing, and I was completely stunned.

"Stop talking nonsense about the capital in Handong!"

Shen Pojun loosened his grip, his eyes piercing him like knives.

"Once you're here, dragons must coil up, and tigers must lie low!"

Wei Zixuan had just slid down the door frame when, before he could even regain his footing...

Shen Pojun raised his right foot, which was clad in military boots, and delivered a vicious kick to the back of his knee.

"Click".

With a sharp, teeth-grinding crack, Wei Zixuan screamed in agony.

His legs were completely out of control and crashed heavily onto the marble floor.

"thump!"

He knelt down firmly this time.

A bone-chilling cold shot up his knees and straight to his head, causing him to cry out in pain.

Just as Wei Zixuan was rolling on the ground hugging his knees.

"Squeak—"

The heavy wooden door of the presidential suite slowly opened inward.

A warm, orange light shone through the crack in the door, accompanied by the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee.

Yan Qingfeng was wearing a dark gray silk robe, with one hand in his pocket.

He walked out slowly, holding a steaming cup of black coffee in his other hand.

He lowered his eyes, as if looking at a stray dog ​​whose spine had been broken.

The imposing aura of a superior, even without anger, made the air in the corridor seem to freeze.

"Master Yan! Master Yan, help me!"

Upon seeing the newcomer, Wei Zixuan threw all notions of dignity and the prestige of being the Crown Prince of the Capital to the winds.

Ignoring the excruciating pain in his knees, he crawled over using both his hands and feet.

She grabbed Yan Qingfeng's trouser leg tightly, as if afraid he would run away.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Wei Zixuan kowtowed repeatedly to the hard marble floor.

In no time, his forehead was scraped open, and blood flowed down his nose.

"I was wrong! I had no idea it was such a deadly pit!"

He cried so hard that tears and snot streamed down his face, looking like a beggar who had been stripped naked and thrown out into the street.

"Please, have mercy and return that 150 billion to me!"

Wei Zixuan looked up, his face covered in blood, pleading pitifully.

"A large portion of that money belongs to the powerful figures in Beijing."

"If I don't fill this hole, they'll hack me to death when I get back!"

Yan Qingfeng remained silent.

He simply stood there quietly, gently blowing on the steam rising from the rim of his cup.

A bittersweet aroma filled the corridor.

"Master Yan, you're so magnanimous, please just ignore me!"

Seeing that Yan Qingfeng did not react, Wei Zixuan anxiously stretched out his hands.

She wanted to grab the hem of Yan Qingfeng's expensive silk nightgown.

Yan Qingfeng's lips curled into a cruel sneer.

He slowly raised his right foot and stepped down with his gleaming custom-made leather shoe.

Without bias, he firmly stepped on the back of Wei Zixuan's outstretched hand.

The hard corner of the heel gets stuck right on the most vulnerable part of the knuckles.

"ah--"

Wei Zixuan let out a bloodcurdling scream that sounded inhuman.

He tried desperately to pull his hand back.

But that foot was like a mountain, pinning him firmly to the marble floor.

A fierce glint flashed in Yan Qingfeng's eyes.

He casually ground his toe down hard.

"Snap!"

The crisp, clear sound of bones cracking sent chills down one's spine in the deathly silent corridor.

Wei Zixuan's face contorted in pain, and he rolled his eyes.

He was like a shrimp that had been electrocuted, convulsing stiffly, and almost fainted.

Yan Qingfeng looked down at him, his voice colder than the Siberian chill.

"Refund? Once the meat is in my mouth, not even God can pry it out."

He pulled his foot back and disgustedly rubbed the bloodstains on the wool carpet.

Wei Zixuan clutched his twisted and deformed right hand, curled up on the ground, convulsing in pain.

He didn't even have the strength to beg for mercy; all he could do was exhale more than he could inhale.

Yan Qingfeng, holding his coffee, turned and walked back to the warm suite.

Just as the door was about to close, he turned his head slightly.

The cold, merciless voice lashed out from the crack in the door, piercing Wei Zixuan's heart like a nail.

"While I still have a breath left, I'll go back and tell those old bastards in the capital who eat people without spitting out the bones."

"The rules of Handong now apply to your capital as well."