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

The pool of blood that Sun Dafu smashed in front of the warehouse door had long been washed into the sewer by the sanitation sprinkler truck.

The people of Handong are too lazy to even offer a word of discussion.

On the streets of Jingzhou in the early morning, the air was filled with the aroma of fried dough sticks and soy milk, along with the earthy smell left by last night's autumn rain.

Chen Yanshi pushed open the rusty iron gate of the old family compound.

The door hinges made a dry, creaking sound that made one's eardrums itch.

He was wearing an old, faded Zhongshan suit, and his left knee ached terribly whenever it got cold.

The wooden cane clattered on the asphalt road.

His inner breast pocket was bulging with a thick stack of A4 papers, pressing against his ribs and feeling a bit uncomfortable.

That was a ten-thousand-word letter he wrote down stroke by stroke over three sleepless nights.

They planned to send a petition to the capital to impeach Yan Qingfeng, that lawless and ruthless tyrant.

"Monopolizing people's livelihoods and controlling prices, they're treating Handong like their own private domain."

Chen Yanshi had a thick phlegm stuck in his throat. He coughed twice, his chest heaving violently.

Turn the corner.

The blindingly dark gold holographic projection sign made him squint.

The words "Lingxiao Holographic Convenience Supermarket" hung in mid-air, with a bluish light ribbon flowing down the outer wall.

There was a long queue at the main entrance, but the line moved as fast as a jog.

A plump woman, covered in sweat, carrying two pig hind legs, bumped her shoulder squarely into Chen Yanshi's arm.

His cane slipped, and he swayed, nearly falling over.

"Oh dear! I'm so sorry, bro!"

The plump woman quickly supported him with her elbow, leaving several red marks from the plastic bag in her hand.

"This...this is too crowded." Chen Yanshi panted heavily, rubbing his sore shoulders.

"Squeezed? What are you thinking? This is already spacious!"

The plump woman was spitting as she spoke, her face crinkling with smiles.

"That Sun Bancheng jumped off a building, serves him right! That heartless, unscrupulous merchant dared to sell a pound of moldy rice for twelve yuan!"

The plump woman spat on the ground, which landed right on the edge of the steps.

"Master Yan is so generous! New rice at 1.2 yuan a pound, take it all!"

She swayed her waist like a barrel as she stepped into the supermarket, not forgetting to turn back and shout.

"Hey buddy, hurry up, or that coveted pork tenderloin will be gone!"

The glass automatic door slid open to both sides with a "whoosh".

As Chen Yanshi stepped across the threshold, a strong blast of cold air hit him, penetrating his thin collar.

He shuddered, and his cloudy old eyes widened instantly.

There is no cashier here.

There were no salespeople wearing red vests or shouting through loudspeakers.

Above our heads were floating, semi-transparent blue light curtains.

Hundreds of shelves are neatly arranged, piled high with fresh vegetables, rice, flour, and cooking oil, emitting a pleasant earthy aroma.

A young man in a vest grabbed two fresh cabbages, turned around, and walked out the door.

I didn't pay or scan the code.

The holographic bracelet on his wrist beeped for half a second, and a blue beam of light swept across the cabbage.

A line of green text popped up in mid-air: "Four cents deducted, checkout complete."

It flowed smoothly, without a single stumble.

Chen Yanshi opened his mouth, his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, but he couldn't utter a single word.

That's efficient.

Compared to the past when I would queue for half a day at the supply and marketing cooperative and watch the sales clerk roll their eyes at me, it's like heaven and earth.

Suddenly, a blinding red light shone from the corner of the shelf next to us.

The alarm sounded like a buzzing bee into my ears.

"Warning: This person is carrying unpaid goods, triggering anti-theft interception."

A thug with dyed yellow hair had just stuffed a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes into his crotch when he trembled with fear.

The belt wasn't fastened tightly.

A Zhonghua cigarette fell down his trouser leg onto the smooth tile with a soft thud.

The blond-haired man's face turned pale. He squatted on the ground with his hands covering his head, not daring to breathe.

The holographic telescope above his head flashed a cold light, locking onto him intently.

Less than ten seconds later.

Two Lingxiao security guards dressed in black tactical uniforms walked out from the end of the passage like ghosts.

They grabbed the blond-haired man's arms from both sides and dragged him out.

From beginning to end, no one watched or made a fuss.

Customers picked out the radishes they wanted without even pausing.

Chen Yanshi's withered fingers gripped the handle of his cane tightly, the wood grain digging into his palm.

He recalled his time as deputy chief prosecutor.

The police station could drag its feet and delay filing a case for three days just to catch a bicycle thief.

In Handong today, the security situation has deteriorated to the point where doors are left unlocked at night and anyone who tries to steal something will be caught.

He moved step by step to the rice and grain area.

Reaching out, he plunged his age-spotted hand deep into the transparent grain silo filled with rice.

The rice grains slipped through my fingers, cool and smooth.

That was truly high-quality new grain, with a rich, sweet starch aroma that went straight into your nose.

"Old boss, you've come to join the fun too?"

A hoarse voice came from behind me, interspersed with a few whistling coughs.

Chen Yanshi turned around and saw Lao Zheng, his former driver who used to drive him around the procuratorate.

Old Zheng was clutching a cloth bag filled to the brim with flour, so heavy that he couldn't straighten his back.

"You...didn't you go to the provincial party committee to petition?" Chen Yanshi pointed at Lao Zheng, his brows furrowed in a deep knot.

"Last month you were crying and saying that your pension couldn't afford medicine and your family was about to starve."

Old Zheng grinned, revealing two bright yellow gold teeth.

"Hey, why bother with petitioning?"

He slammed the cloth bag down on the ground and took a deep breath.

"Ling Xiao drastically reduced the prices of medicines and grains across the entire province."

Tears welled up in Old Zheng's eyes, and he wiped them with his dirty sleeve.

"Blood pressure medication used to cost over 200 yuan a box, but now Lingxiao Pharmacy only sells it for 13.5 yuan."

"This bag of noodles used to cost sixty yuan, but today, after scanning the code, it's less than ten yuan!"

Old Zheng took two steps closer, lowered his voice, and smelled of raw garlic.

"Old leader, Secretary Sha and the others are having a meeting in the provincial party committee compound to discuss... that subsidy policy."

"We've been researching for half a year, but we haven't even seen a trace of an approval document."

"Master Yan, in one night, actually stuffed things into the mouths of us ordinary folks."

Chen Yanshi's head buzzed.

Old Zheng's words were like a sledgehammer, smashing his ridiculous official pride with a bang.

He remembered last night.

I sat under the dim lamplight, writing that lengthy ten-thousand-word letter.

They called Yan Qingfeng a capitalist crocodile, accused him of devouring public power, and condemned him as a dictator.

But where is the public authority?

Public officials clink glasses at the dinner table, but pass the buck in the meeting room.

The stack of A4 papers on Chen Yanshi's chest now felt like a red-hot iron, burning his flesh painfully.

He even felt a little nauseous.

It's the kind of physiological nausea that comes from being blinded and unable to distinguish right from wrong.

He didn't respond to Lao Zheng's words.

He turned around, dragging his stiff, aching left leg, and stumbled toward the door.

The glass door hissed shut behind us.

The early winter sun pierced my pupils without any obstruction.

Chen Yanshi squinted, tears welling up uncontrollably and blurring his vision.

He stood at the bustling crossroads, leaning on his cane.

On the giant screen of the skyscraper across the street, the dark gold Lingxiao logo was flashing.

The light was so dazzling that it was almost blinding.

He took a deep breath, and the cold air rushed into his lungs, causing him to cough violently.

"Cough cough... cough cough cough..."

He hunched over, one hand covering his mouth, the other trembling as he reached into his inner pocket.

My fingertips touched the thick stack of envelopes.

He pulled him out.

The edges of the envelope were crumpled up from being gripped so tightly.

"Rip—"

Chen Yanshi exerted force with his withered hands, and the thick paper made a crisp tearing sound.

His wrists trembled, and when he couldn't tear it in one go, he folded it up and gritted his teeth to tear it again.

"Old boss! What are you tearing up?"

Old Zheng chased after Chen Yanshi, carrying a bag of flour, and just then saw Chen Yanshi throw a handful of scraps of paper into the air.

The white scraps of paper swirled around like a light snowfall.

It fell into a muddy puddle next to the curb.

The words "Severely punish the Lingxiao Consortium" written in fountain pen were instantly stained with sewage and turned into a blurry black ink.

Chen Yanshi ignored the scraps of paper.

He leaned on his cane, his body trembling like a withered leaf in the autumn wind.

Mucous tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the faded lapel of his Zhongshan suit.

"Old Zheng..."

Chen Yanshi's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, his voice hoarse as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

He pointed at the Lingxiao logo across the street, snot dripping down to his lips.

"Those corrupt officials lined their own pockets, sat on the stage, spouting benevolence and morality, and read documents at a deafening volume."

He sniffed and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"And the result? A complete mess!"

Old Zheng was stunned. He put down the bag of flour in his hand and stood there helplessly.

Chen Yanshi raised his chin and closed his old eyes, which were brimming with tears.

His withered fingers gripped the cane tightly, the knuckles cracking.

"Yan Qingfeng is ruthless and cruel; he's a capitalist who eats people without spitting out the bones."

Chen Yanshi suddenly opened his eyes, letting the cold wind chill his tears.

He yelled at the flashing logo, his voice echoing through the noisy street.

"But look at all these lively people on the street."

He was breathing heavily, a dull echo emanating from his chest, when he suddenly grabbed Old Zheng's arm.

"Only Yan Qingfeng... only he truly cares about the lives of ordinary people!"