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

Yan Qingfeng stood in front of the panoramic floor-to-ceiling window and snapped his fingers crisply.

Zhou Yuan slapped the green button on the main control panel.

On the wasteland, the roar of the engine instantly drowned out the sound of the wind.

Thousands of fully automated steel harvesters, like mechanical behemoths attracted by the smell of blood, rumbled into the golden wheat fields.

The saw teeth turned, the wheat stalks fell over, and the plump wheat grains gushed into the back of the heavy truck like a golden waterfall.

The air was filled with the astringent smell of crushed straw, and the sweet, powdery aroma of new grain.

A long line of fully loaded heavy trucks stretched out.

Following the 1950s-era highway managed by the Lingxiao Consortium, they sped all the way to the distribution centers of major cities in Handong.

The tollbooth barriers had long been removed, and the wheels rolling over the asphalt made the ground tingle.

The Lingxiao Building has 118 floors.

Zhou Yuan held a disposable plastic bowl, sucking in the cold air as he shoveled white rice into his mouth.

"Master Yan... Ouch, it's so hot!"

He was so hot that he stomped his feet and his tongue was rolling around in his mouth.

"This smells amazing! I could eat three big bowls of it even without any side dishes!"

Zhou Yuan chewed on the plump, chewy grains of rice, his mouth glistening with oil.

"Genetically optimized things are like cows; they're even chewier than the premium rice from Wuchang."

Yan Qingfeng leaned back on the leather sofa, scrolling through the logistics progress on his tablet.

"Eat more if it's delicious. Get your work done after you're full."

He tossed the tablet onto the coffee table, the glass clattering against the glass with a "clatter".

"The holographic online store is now open. Rice, flour, and oil will all be listed at one-tenth of the market price."

Yan Qingfeng straightened his suit sleeves, his tone light and casual.

"Label it, unlimited quantity, buy as much as you want."

Zhou Yuan froze as he ate his rice.

His cheeks puffed out like a frog's, and his eyes were wide open.

"One-tenth? Master Yan, are we throwing money away?"

He swallowed a mouthful of food, almost choking, and quickly pounded his chest with his fist.

"Rice is selling for 12 yuan a pound now, and we're selling it for 1.2 yuan? We can't even cover the shipping costs!"

Yan Qingfeng raised her eyelids and glanced at him.

"Do I need that little bit of money from selling rice?"

He pulled a custom-made lighter out of his pocket and rubbed the roller with his thumb.

"What I want is for these hoarding vampires to vomit up everything they've eaten, including their hearts, livers, spleens, and lungs."

A flame shot up, and he lit a cigar.

"Get it done. I want all the people of Handong to see the price tags within one minute."

In the suburbs of Jingzhou, there is a large villa covering several thousand square meters.

Sun Dafu, the largest private grain merchant in Handong, was sprawled out on a leather sofa.

He was twirling a string of smooth, glossy sandalwood beads in his hands, humming an unknown tune.

His warehouses, filled with high-priced grain, are now a gold mine.

"Honey, dinner's ready."

His wife came out of the kitchen carrying a white porcelain bowl.

A strong aroma of rice wafted straight into the nostrils, instantly filling the entire living room.

The aroma was so strong, with a hint of sun-dried sweetness that made your mouth water.

Sun Dafu sniffed and struggled to sit up.

The fat was squeezed onto the belt, leaving a red mark.

"Hey, what kind of rice is this? It smells pretty strong."

He snatched the bowl from his wife's hand, picked up a bite with his chopsticks, and put it in his mouth.

I only chewed it twice.

Sun Dafu's chubby face suddenly froze.

The rice grains burst open between his teeth, and the soft, sweet taste instantly killed all the rice he had in his warehouse.

"This...this isn't the grain from our warehouse?"

His lips trembled slightly, and his chopsticks fell onto the coffee table.

"No, I was just watching a holographic projection; it showed new items on Lingxiao Mall."

My wife muttered to herself as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"It's 1.2 yuan per pound, and they even deliver it to my door. I thought it was cheap, so I bought a bag to try it out, and I didn't expect it to be so delicious."

"How many?!"

Sun Dafu jumped up suddenly, as if he'd been pricked in the butt with a needle.

His knee hit the corner of the coffee table, making him wince in pain, but he didn't bother to rub it.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his hand trembling so much that he had to tap several times before he could unlock the screen.

Open the Cloud Holographic Mall.

A huge dark gold banner hangs in the most prominent position on the homepage.

[New Lingxiao grain is now available nationwide.]

Unlimited quantity, no purchase limit, everything is 90% off.

The sales figures below are skyrocketing at a rate of tens of thousands of orders per second.

Sun Dafu felt as if he had been hit on the back of the head.

My head was buzzing.

He painstakingly stockpiled hundreds of thousands of tons of high-priced grain, with a purchase price of more than five yuan per kilogram!

Yan Qingfeng is selling it for 1.2 yuan?

This is fucking digging up his ancestral graves!

"It's over...it's all over..."

Sun Dafu slumped onto the carpet, his sandalwood bracelet flying a considerable distance.

Those mountains of grain are now unwanted, not even as pig feed!

My phone suddenly vibrated.

Mike's name flashed on the screen.

Sun Dafu grasped at this like a lifeline and frantically pressed the answer button.

"Mr. Mike! You have to save me!"

He yelled in a hoarse voice, spitting on the screen.

"Yan Qingfeng has released grain! Prices have hit rock bottom! Our alliance..."

"What kind of bullshit league is this!"

Mike interrupted him directly in broken Chinese.

The background noise was filled with the sounds of things being smashed and breaking.

"Our ABCD Group has absolutely no connection with your grain merchants in Handong!"

Mike's tone betrayed his barely concealed panic.

"This agreement is null and void! You brought this madman upon yourselves, so go die!"

beep.

The dial tone, like a death knell, pounded on Sun Dafu's eardrums.

He hadn't even caught his breath yet.

Debt collection calls came in like mad dogs.

"Mr. Sun, the warehouses you mortgaged have depreciated in value. The bank requires you to make up the 200 million yuan margin by tomorrow morning."

"Old Sun! The loan shark's money is due! If you don't see the money tonight, I'll chop your hands off!"

The phone kept ringing, all from debt collectors.

Sun Dafu slumped to the ground, his silk pajamas soaked with sweat, which clung to his back, making it feel icy cold.

He stared blankly at the still steaming white porcelain bowl.

It's all over.

The funding chain completely broke down, the foreigner absconded, and the banks withdrew their loans.

Sun Dafu had been a tyrant in Handong for half his life, but in the end, he was driven to his doom by a handful of rice that cost 1.2 yuan.

The night wind made the curtains rustle.

The rooftop of the largest grain transfer warehouse in the south of the city.

The four-story warehouse still has the words "Sun's Grain and Oil" painted on its exterior walls.

The air was filled with the sour smell of stale, moldy grain.

Sun Dafu stood barefoot on the edge of the rooftop.

The autumn wind made his fat body shiver, and his teeth clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound.

He looked down at the bottomless concrete below, and everything went black.

"Yan Qingfeng...you're not leaving anyone a way out!"

He let out a desperate roar and closed his eyes.

Its bulky body, like a tattered sack, fell straight down.

"Bang."

A dull, loud bang.

1 a.m. Lingxiao Building.

Yan Qingfeng stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city that had regained its vitality.

Traffic began to flow again, and steam rose from the street food stalls.

The door was pushed open.

Zhou Yuan walked in carrying a folder, his shoes slid across the carpet twice.

"Master Yan."

He lowered his voice, his tone revealing an undisguised excitement.

"Just received the news, Sun Bancheng jumped off a building."

Zhou Yuan opened the folder and tapped the paper with his knuckles.

"He fell right at the gate of his own warehouse, his brains were splattered out."

Yan Qingfeng held a cup of cold coffee in his hand.

He didn't even lift his eyelids, his gaze still fixed on the neon lights outside the window.

"These bastards who profited from human suffering died too easily."

Yan Qingfeng rotated his wrist, causing the black liquid in the cup to swirl.

He casually placed the coffee on the windowsill, making a soft sound.

Yan Qingfeng turned around and glanced at Zhou Yuan with his deep eyes.

A cold smile played on his lips, his tone as casual as if he were instructing the cleaning lady to do her chores.

"Find someone to clean the ground properly, so our delivery truck tires don't get dirty."

He walked to the sofa, grabbed his trench coat, and walked out without looking back.

"Tomorrow, the grain delivery convoy will be going to the countryside across the province. Which route will the convoy take?"

Zhou Yuan grinned and responded loudly, then followed closely behind, asking more questions.

"Alright! What about those merchants who have stockpiled unsold grain? Are we still going to help them?"