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

The Gulfstream jet cut through the clouds, hurtling down with a piercing whistling sound.

The air pressure inside the cabin dropped sharply, and Yan Qingfeng felt as if a thick wad of cotton had been stuffed into his eardrums, causing a muffled sensation in waves.

The air conditioner vents were blowing out cold air.

It smelled of stale aviation kerosene mixed with the scent of high-end leather, making one's nasal passages dry.

Zhou Yuan leaned back casually in the leather seat opposite him, holding a cup of freshly brewed espresso.

As the plane encountered turbulence, a few drops of coffee spilled from the cup and landed on the low rosewood table.

"Master Yan, there's been some activity at the Changming Road Police Station."

Zhou Yuan pulled out a metal tablet from his pocket and pressed his rough fingers heavily on the screen. "Zhao Donglai just closed the door tightly."

The air in the center of the cabin suddenly rippled and twisted like water.

A faint blue light flashed, and the "Cloud Holographic Projection" system switched in directly.

A cramped interrogation room with yellowed walls floated one-to-one in front of Yan Qingfeng's bespoke leather shoes.

The resolution is so high that even the blackened grime in the grout lines of the floor tiles is clearly visible.

In the footage, Tian Guofu slumped like a dead dog on the iron interrogation chair.

There was not a trace of the demeanor of an old cadre he usually displayed at large meetings.

His once sleek, slicked-back hair was now completely covered in mud, clinging to his forehead like clumps of weeds.

The dark gray Zhongshan suit was ripped from the collar all the way down to the stomach, and all the buttons had popped off.

Half a dried-out fish scale was still stuck in the fabric of the clothes.

The pungent smell of rotten fish and shrimp, mixed with the stench of spoiled vegetable leaves, was so strong it seemed you could almost smell it through the holographic screen.

His right cheekbone was swollen high, glowing a purplish-red, with half a muddy shoe print on it.

Tian Guofu's hands were locked to the wooden barrier with gleaming silver handcuffs.

He was so angry that he trembled all over, his fingernails digging into the cracks in the wood, scraping off several pieces of bloody wood chips.

My stomach was churning with acid in waves.

The extreme humiliation made his intestines ache, and his stomach acid rushed to his throat, causing a burning pain.

"Zhao... Zhao Donglai... are you fucking blind?"

Tian Guofu's voice was so hoarse it sounded like he had swallowed a handful of coarse sandpaper; his voice cracked every time he opened his mouth, accompanied by labored breathing.

"Where's the key! Hurry up... unlock this piece of junk!"

Zhao Donglai, sitting opposite, only sat on half of the chair.

His forehead was covered in layers of oily sweat, which he couldn't wipe away at all.

A bead of sweat rolled down his brow and "plop" landed on the note paper in front of him, instantly spreading into a large patch of blue ink.

Zhao Donglai pulled a crumpled tissue from his police uniform pocket and wiped his face haphazardly.

"Secretary Tian... no, old leader. This matter of yours... is really difficult to handle."

He didn't dare look into Tian Guofu's murderous eyes.

He kept his hands outside his pockets, but wouldn't take the handcuff key out.

"What do you mean it's difficult to handle!"

Tian Guofu jerked his wrist away, and the iron chain slammed against the barrier with a loud clanging sound.

The skin around the wrist bone was immediately turned bright red from being squeezed so tightly, and blood seeped out from the chafed skin.

"I'm going undercover to investigate at the grassroots level! I'm going to find out what's going on with that capitalist Yan Qingfeng; I'm investigating a case!"

His chest heaved violently, and spittle flew out and landed on the edge of Zhao Donglai's table.

"Are those people crazy? I was helping them investigate a cover-up! And they actually... they actually pinned me down in the mud and beat me?"

The more Tian Guofu yelled, the more his stomach convulsed.

A mouthful of acid gushed up, and he quickly turned his head to gag, his mouth filled with the bitter taste of bile.

Zhao Donglai's eyelids twitched wildly, and he shrank back as much as he could, afraid of being vomited on.

"Old leader, you'd better save your energy and stop yelling. There's a bunch of old men and women lining up outside to give you false testimony."

"Perjury?" Tian Guofu's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"you do not say."

Zhao Donglai lowered his voice, his palms sweating so much that the plastic casing of the ballpoint pen slipped from his grip.

"The elderly folks are all sticking to the same story and won't let it go, insisting that you're a commercial spy sent by Wall Street to cause trouble."

Zhao Donglai tapped the table with his pen, making a "tap-tap" sound.

"People say that you went to inquire about Master Yan, which is like trying to ruin their whole family's livelihood. That fat butcher was just yelling that if you were let out, he would slit his throat at the entrance of the provincial party committee compound."

"That's utter bullshit!"

Tian Guofu completely lost his temper and uttered a curse he had never used in his entire career as a cadre.

"What kind of bewitching potion did Yan Qingfeng use on them! He bought them all off with just a few pounds of rice?"

Zhao Donglai rolled his eyes, sighed, and didn't respond.

He thought to himself, "That's premium rice, priced at 2.2 yuan per kilogram. You don't even have to wait in line to see a doctor. Anyone would protect you like the plague. What do you old fool know about the hardships of ordinary people?"

Outside the holographic display.

Yan Qingfeng crossed his long legs and leaned back on the soft leather seat of the private jet.

A Cuban cigar was held between his fingers, its scarlet embers flickering.

A long stump of accumulated silver cigarette ash finally gave way under its weight and fell with a "thud".

It shattered on the hand-woven Persian carpet beneath their feet.

He looked at Tian Guofu, who was barking like a trapped beast in the holographic projection.

A very low, muffled laugh rolled out from deep in his throat.

It's like watching a muddy grasshopper, half-submerged in water, struggling to kick its legs in a sewer.

"Did you hear that, Zhou Yuan?"

Yan Qingfeng tapped the holographic image in the air with his finger holding a cigar, his voice muffled by the cabin's soundproofing.

"Our former secretary of the Discipline Inspection Commission still thinks it's capitalism at work."

Zhou Yuan grinned, revealing two rows of yellowed, stained teeth.

"That old man's head is full of the old-fashioned ideas. He tries to steal the meat that Master Yan feeds to the people. He's lucky he wasn't chopped up in the street with a cleaver."

"Boom—"

A dull mechanical scraping sound suddenly came from the bottom of the cabin.

The landing gear popped out.

Immediately afterwards, a tremendous jolt of pressure slammed into the back of the chair, making one's chest feel heavy.

The coffee cup on the table jolted violently, spilling all the remaining coffee, which dripped down the table leg.

The plane is forcing its way through the thick clouds over Manhattan.

Outside the porthole, the gray New York skyline and the densely packed silhouettes of skyscrapers began to rapidly magnify in my field of vision.

Even through the glass, the air here seemed to reek of the decadent, money-grubbing stench of an old-money family.

Zhou Yuan steadied himself and grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe up the coffee mess on the table.

"Master Yan, we're about to land. What should we do with that old codger Tian Guofu? Sha Ruijin is probably getting restless; he might send his secretary to bail him out soon."

Yan Qingfeng forcefully stubbed out the remaining half of the cigar in the white jade ashtray.

The scarlet flames were extinguished with a "sizzle," leaving only a wisp of smoke.

He raised his hand and waved away the holographic projection in front of him.

The cramped interrogation room scene in the air shattered instantly into countless blue light spots and disappeared completely.

The air pressure in the cabin changed drastically again.

Yan Qingfeng swallowed, trying to ease the throbbing pain in his eardrums.

He straightened his suit cufflinks, his indifferent gaze sweeping across the window as the Kennedy Airport runway drew ever closer.

"Tell Zhao Donglai to follow the proper procedures for 'picking quarrels and provoking trouble' and 'disturbing public order'."

Yan Qingfeng's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling quality that made one's teeth ache.

"Lock him up for fifteen days first. During this time, no matter who in Handong tries to intervene or pleads for his life, lock them up as well."