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

Whether Sha Ruijin's late-night bus actually entered the Lingxiao Building or not, no one dared to inquire.

But from that day on, a chilling, malevolent wind silently swept across the entire Handong region.

While the gods at the top fight and determine the winner, the dogs at the grassroots level often have the sharpest noses.

A chilling tacit understanding spread like vines throughout every corner of Jingzhou.

Song Jianguo, the inspector sent from the capital, was wearing a faded old jacket.

He was strolling along the street like a retired old man, clutching a thermos with peeling paint.

Just as I reached the intersection of Renmin Road, I stumbled upon a good show.

Yellow lines indicating no parking were painted on the roadside, and four or five private cars were illegally parked in a row.

A young traffic policeman rode up on a motorcycle, took out a ticket machine, and quickly issued three tickets.

As the traffic policeman approached the fourth car, his hand suddenly stopped.

That was a Maybach without even a license plate.

Behind the windshield, there was only a thin plastic pass.

Black background with gold lettering, featuring a solitary character "晏" and the logo of the Lingxiao Consortium.

The young traffic policeman gasped and withdrew his hand as if he had touched a hot potato.

He glanced around and then deftly stuffed the machine back into his back pocket.

The traffic police pretended to be blind, bypassed the Maybach, and headed straight for the last beat-up Jetta.

Song Jianguo frowned and quickly stepped forward.

"Young man, why don't you put a sticker on that luxury car that's cutting in front of you? Are you bullying the weak and fearing the strong?"

He handed her a Hongtashan cigarette, pretending to be a bystander standing up for what was right.

The young traffic cop glanced at him, didn't take the cigarette, and instead chuckled.

"Sir, are you visiting relatives from out of town? Be careful around here, don't ask unnecessary questions."

He pointed to the plastic sign with gold lettering on a black background.

"Apply it? Do I even want to wear this bodysuit anymore?!"

The traffic policeman mounted his motorcycle and complained in a low voice.

"Now, when the city bureau plans routes, they have to avoid Lingxiao Logistics' convoys."

He floored the gas pedal and left with his last words.

"This is Master Yan's car. If you get in, you're going to die. Don't drag me down with you!"

The exhaust fumes sprayed all over Song Jianguo's trouser leg.

Song Jianguo stood there, stunned, his eyelids twitching.

Even at the grassroots level of law enforcement, this kind of unspoken rule has made them so corrupt that they've lost all backbone.

He dusted off his trousers and turned to hail a taxi.

"Driver, go to the Municipal Party Committee's Petition Office."

The experienced driver, who had been driving for over a decade, paused for a moment and gave him a strange look in the rearview mirror.

"What's the point of going there? Even ghosts don't go to that awful place anymore."

The driver yawned. "The gatekeeper plays cards on the steps every day."

"What? The people of Jingzhou have no grievances?" Song Jianguo asked tentatively.

"Even if someone has a grievance, it's not the petition office's place to handle it."

The driver turned the steering wheel, and the car spun around.

"I'll take you to a place where things are really in charge; I guarantee you'll be amazed."

Twenty minutes later.

The taxi stopped outside the giant plaza in front of the Lingxiao Building.

Song Jianguo pushed open the car door and froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.

This isn't a commercial plaza, it's more like a feudal yamen holding a court hearing!

Hundreds of people lined up in a long queue, which turned three corners.

At the front of the line was a row of long tables covered with a rain shelter.

A dozen or so Lingxiao security personnel, dressed in crisp uniforms, were collecting materials in an orderly manner.

"Everyone, line up! We'll do it one item at a time!"

The head of security grabbed a megaphone and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Master Yan said that if you've been cheated or wronged, Lingxiao's legal department will handle your case for free!"

"Those who maliciously withhold wages, go to table number three to collect your relief funds!"

In the queue, an elderly woman with gray hair suddenly knelt down in front of the table.

She held up a petition written in blood, crying her heart out.

"My son's leg was broken when he was building a road in a county down below. The contractor ran away. Please, Lord Yan, do me justice!"

The supervisor quickly stepped over the table and helped the woman up.

He took the blood-stained petition, glanced at it, and slammed it onto the table.

"Don't worry, ma'am. No matter where that unscrupulous contractor is hiding in Handong."

"Tomorrow morning, even if Lingxiao's debt collection team has to dig three feet into the ground, they'll still put the medical expenses on your bed!"

The old lady was so excited that she was shaking all over.

She kowtowed repeatedly towards the more than 100-story Lingxiao Building.

The surrounding people wiped away their tears, all murmuring that Lord Yan would live a long and healthy life.

Song Jianguo mingled on the periphery of the crowd, a chill emanating from his spine.

This isn't businessmen doing charity; it's blatantly exploiting public sentiment!

When ordinary people encounter trouble, their first reaction is no longer to go to the government, but to seek help from Yan Qingfeng!

It was lunchtime.

Feeling dizzy and disoriented, Song Jianguo stumbled into a ramen shop across from the building.

I had just ordered a bowl of noodles and sat down when I heard two pot-bellied restaurant owners at the next table spitting out words.

"Old Wu from the Urban Construction Bureau refuses to stamp the planning permit for that piece of land in the eastern suburbs. It's driving me crazy."

A bald boss gulped down a mouthful of beer and slapped his thigh in frustration.

The fat man across from me, wearing a gold chain, rolled his eyes, peeled a clove of garlic, and popped it into his mouth.

"What's your hurry! Didn't Master Yan nod at the banquet yesterday, saying that the land could be developed?"

"I did overdo it, but without Old Wu's stamp, the process can't proceed!"

"Idiot!"

The fat man slapped the bald man on the forehead.

"This afternoon, just take the approval slip from the Lingxiao Chamber of Commerce and slam it on Old Wu's desk!"

The fat man moved closer, looking completely at ease.

"In this area of ​​Handong, the municipal party committee's seal may not be necessary, but Master Yan's head must be nodded!"

"Even if you gave Old Wu eight times the courage, do you think he'd dare to stop Master Yan's plans?"

Song Jianguo's chopsticks trembled, and a piece of beef slipped back into the soup bowl, splashing oily soup all over his face.

He couldn't eat anymore.

Late that night, at the Jingzhou State Guesthouse.

Song Jianguo drew the curtains and turned off all the lights.

Only the screen of a black laptop with military-grade encryption remained lit.

He rubbed his numb cheeks, his fingers trembling as he typed on the keyboard.

They compiled everything they saw and heard during the day into a top-secret report, word for word.

At last.

At the end of his report, he typed a line of startling words.

"Handong has become an independent kingdom. It no longer belongs to the Sha family, nor the Li family, but to the Yan family."

Press the send button, and the progress bar flashes by.

Two minutes later, the red secure phone on the table rang like a death knell.

Song Jianguo took a deep breath and grabbed the microphone.

"Sir, have you read the confidential letter?"

On the other end of the phone, a prominent figure in Beijing remained silent for a very long time.

It took so long that Song Jianguo could clearly hear the other person's slightly heavy breathing.

"Building a nation."

The important man's voice carried a deep sense of weariness and apprehension.

"We sent Hou Liangping down there before, thinking he could be a knife to cut open the cancer in Handong."

"Unexpectedly, this has created a floodgate for a real dragon to stir up trouble."

Song Jianguo swallowed hard, gripping the telephone cord tightly.

"Boss, what do we do next? We can't just stand by and watch him reach into the clouds, can we?"

A crackling sound like a match being struck came through the receiver.

The important man seemed to light a cigarette, and his tone became somber.

"Notify the task force to call it a day. You need to buy a plane ticket back to Beijing immediately tomorrow. Don't stay a moment longer."

Song Jianguo was stunned, his face full of astonishment.

"Return to Beijing? Are you just going to abandon us like this?"

"Manage? With what authority do you have to manage it!"

The big shot gave a cold laugh, as if mocking his own powerlessness.

"He, Yan Qingfeng, has turned Handong into an impregnable fortress, even putting a price tag on the air."

"If you stay any longer, do you want to follow in Hou Liangping's footsteps and have the moat of Handong casually filled in by him?"

Before hanging up the phone, the important figure let out a soft sigh.

"Come back quickly, the weather has changed."

"It's only a matter of time before Yan Qingfeng's fire spreads across the Yangtze River."

"Tell your family to prepare to welcome the dragon crossing the river."