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

The security guard's sarcasm drifted through the cold wind via the walkie-talkie.

Zhong Xiaoai's legs went weak, and she almost fell headfirst onto the smooth steps.

If this security guard had spoken to her like that two weeks ago...

With just one phone call from her, she could have his legs broken and thrown into the moat to be fed to the fish.

But now, all she can do is bite her chapped lower lip tightly.

She tasted a strong metallic taste of blood, and she swallowed the humiliation mixed with her saliva back down her throat.

She had no right to get angry; the Zhong family was beyond saving.

Zhong Xiaoai took a deep breath, enduring the disdainful look from the security guard.

She raised her heavy arm and pushed open the thick revolving glass door.

Upon entering, the dazzlingly opulent hall made her eyes hurt.

The temperature control system blows a comfortable warm breeze.

This only made her old, wrinkled trench coat, stained with instant noodle soup, look even more shabby and jarring.

Zhong Xiaoai dragged her leaden legs to the curved marble countertop.

The receptionist, dressed in a well-tailored haute couture business suit, was typing away on her keyboard.

It was the same ruthless character who had barred Li Dakang, the municipal party secretary, from entering just a few days earlier.

"Hello there."

Zhong Xiaoai placed her hands on the smooth tabletop and forced out a smile that looked worse than crying.

"I'd like to see President Yan. I'm Zhong Xiaoai from Beijing."

She straightened her back involuntarily.

Even in her current state of destitution, she subconsciously still wanted to maintain that ridiculous air of someone from the capital.

The receptionist looked up, maintaining a flawless, eight-tooth smile.

"Hello, do you have an appointment?"

"no."

Zhong Xiaoai eagerly stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly.

"But please inform them that I've come with the Zhong family's last remaining sincerity, and that the matter is extremely urgent!"

The receptionist's smile remained completely unchanged, and she didn't even blink.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Zhong, Mr. Yan's schedule is full without an appointment."

The younger sister opened the drawer and pulled out a yellowed, hard plastic number plate.

With a flick of his wrist, he casually pushed it in front of Zhong Xiaoai.

"If it's really urgent, please take a number and wait in line in the rest area over there until your number is called."

Zhong Xiaoai looked down.

The plastic sign clearly displayed the words "Section C, No. 250" in large, dark letters.

The number was like a sharp slap across her face.

Zhong Xiaoai was so angry that she trembled all over, her long fingernails scratching the glass tabletop with a screeching sound.

"You want me to take a number and wait in line? I'm Chung Hsiao-ai! Do you even know that...?"

"Ms. Chung, this is the Lingxiao Building."

The receptionist interrupted her; her voice was still gentle, but it was as sharp as a soft nail.

"Even if you are the King of Heaven, according to our Master Yan's rules, you still have to take a number and wait in line."

Zhong Xiaoai froze on the spot, swallowing back all her anger.

She grabbed the offensive number plate and turned to walk to a corner of the lobby.

There was a row of cold, metallic seats, usually reserved for salespeople and delivery drivers to rest.

Zhong Xiaoai chose a seat at the very back.

She crossed her arms and stared intently at the several VIP elevators that went directly to the top floor.

She thought that if she humbled herself and made the trip herself, Yan Qingfeng would at least see her.

But she overestimated her worth in the eyes of capital.

The electronic clock on the wall relentlessly went around and around.

One hour. Two hours. Three hours.

It was lunchtime.

A large number of young employees wearing Lingxiao employee badges poured out of the elevator, chatting and laughing.

They were dressed smartly, carrying Starbucks coffee, and walked towards the door in twos and threes.

A female employee passing by suddenly stopped and nudged her colleague's arm.

"Hey, look at that woman sitting in the corner, doesn't she look familiar?"

Following the gaze, her colleague suddenly covered her mouth and gasped in surprise.

"Holy crap! Isn't that Zhong Xiaoai, the girl who's always on TV? The young lady from Beijing!"

Upon hearing this, more than a dozen people passing by stopped in their tracks.

All eyes, like spotlights, were fixed on Zhong Xiaoai.

There was no reverence in those eyes, only naked spectatorship and contempt.

"It really is her! Why is she dressed like a refugee? Her trench coat is all frayed."

"How could they not be in debt? All seven of her stocks were hammered down by CEO Su, and now they're drowning in debt!"

A male employee, holding a coffee, began to make loud, unabashed jokes.

"I heard that her husband, Hou Liangping, was stripped of his uniform in public yesterday at the provincial procuratorate compound."

"Yes, yes, yes! Now that their family is ruined and their loved ones are dead, they've probably come here to beg for mercy, right?"

The crowd erupted in unrestrained laughter.

"Who does she think she is? She wants to see Master Yan."

A fat man next to him curled his lip, his face full of disdain.

"Haven't you heard? Even the Crown Prince Wei of the capital knelt before Master Yan last night, his hand bones were crushed. Does she even rank in that regard?"

These ordinary people at the grassroots level were what Zhong Xiaoai used to see.

They are a group of people from the bottom of society whom you can never even see, like ants that can be crushed at any time.

Now, the ants are looking down at her, this drowning dog.

Every sarcastic remark was like an invisible whip, lashing her until her skin was torn and bleeding.

Zhong Xiaoai kept her head down, her messy long hair hanging down to cover her face.

Her fingers were digging into the edge of the metal seat, and blood seeped from under her fingernails.

He wanted to leave, to overturn the chair and slam the door shut.

But when I think of Hou Liangping in the detention center, and myself facing imprisonment...

Her bottom seemed glued to the stool; she dared not move an inch.

Five hours have passed.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the sunlight was blocked by dark clouds, and the light in the hall dimmed.

After staying up all night, taking red-eye flights, and not drinking a drop of water all day, I was exhausted.

Zhong Xiaoai's health finally started to deteriorate.

My stomach felt like it was on fire, and my temples were throbbing.

She began to see large patches of golden stars before her eyes, and a violent wave of dizziness washed over her.

I had a hypoglycemic attack, and cold sweat streamed down my forehead.

She braced herself on her knees, trying to stand up and get a cup of hot water from the water dispenser nearby.

But his legs were as limp as overcooked noodles, and he couldn't muster any strength at all.

I had just stood up halfway when my body suddenly swayed to the side.

Her vision went black, and she fell heavily to the side, chair and all.

Just when Zhong Xiaoai thought she was about to fall flat on her face in a ridiculous way.

"Click, click."

A crisp, rhythmic sound of high heels came to a steady stop in front of her.

A pair of exquisite and expensive red-soled high heels stepped on the smooth marble floor tiles.

It was less than half a meter away from the tip of her nose.

Zhong Xiaoai gasped for breath, struggling to lift her heavy head.

Lin Yubing was wearing a tailored black business suit.

She crossed her arms and looked down at Zhong Xiaoai, who was lying on the ground.

The gaze emanating from behind those gold-rimmed glasses was as cold as if he were looking at a piece of stinking garbage.

"Clatter."

A temporary pass with a dark gold logo.

Lin Yubing tossed it at Zhong Xiaoai's feet as if it were a beggar's meal.

The card hit the floor tile, bounced, and made a crisp sound.

Zhong Xiaoai stared blankly at the card.

Like grasping at a lifeline, he lunged forward and clutched it tightly in his hand.

Lin Yubing's lips curled into a cold, emotionless smile.

"Let's go, Miss Zhong."

She turned and walked toward the freight elevator that went straight to the top floor, her voice chillingly cold.

"Master Yan is in a good mood today and is being merciful, granting you five minutes."