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

The meeting room was now like a chaotic, overturned vegetable market.

The sounds of arguing and cursing blended into a high-frequency, sharp noise that seemed to pierce right into people's ears.

Old Zhou had already taken off his suit jacket and thrown it on the ground.

The shirt collar was pulled wide open, revealing a neck covered in oil and sweat.

He clutched his cramping stomach and slammed the torn contract down with his other hand, making a deafening "smack, smack" sound.

The smell of ink from the paper wafted around.

"Vice Governor Zhang! You're so arrogant! Come downstairs now!"

Old Zhou's spittle flew everywhere, spraying Old Zhang's face.

"Go downstairs and talk to those two hundred-odd beggar contractors at the gate of the compound and tell them they have some backbone! Once midnight is over, the bank seal will be affixed, and we'll all be eating rotten cabbage in Qincheng Prison!"

"Eating cabbage is better than being a traitor!"

The veins on Old Zhang's neck were bulging like earthworms about to burst.

He hastily wiped the saliva off his face, his hand trembling as he pointed at Old Zhou's nose.

"Those are the water and electricity networks! They're the province's last line of defense!"

Old Zhang was so anxious that he kept stamping his feet, his leather shoes making a dry, scraping sound as they rubbed against the carpet.

"Hand them over? You're essentially tying up 50 million people in Handong and selling them to conglomerates as hostages! From now on, if Yan Qingfeng presses the enter key, you won't even get a hot bowl of shit!"

"I'd rather go hungry than die right now!" Old Zhou's voice cracked, his throat splitting in two.

Sha Ruijin felt a throbbing pain in the blood vessels of his temples.

It felt like a rusty steel needle had been forced into the gap in my skull.

It was being stirred up wildly inside.

The old floor fan creaked and groaned as it shook its head.

The wind blowing in was full of a musty smell, a mixture of cheap e-cigarette oil and stale sweat.

The fumes made Sha Ruijin feel nauseous.

He gripped the black plastic pen tightly in his right hand.

The plastic casing creaked as it was squeezed in my hand, almost deformed.

Li Dakang, slumped in a chair next to him, was still dripping dirty water like a dead man.

"That's enough!"

Sha Ruijin slammed his hand on the solid wood table.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud drowned out all the arguing.

Then came a crisp "crack" sound.

He snapped that cheap, hard plastic pen in two with a single blow.

The sharp, bristly stump pierced diagonally into the flesh of Sha Ruijin's palm.

It cut a gash more than an inch long.

Blood beads immediately appeared.

The liquid seeped down the deep lines on my palm in a crooked and twisted manner.

A drop of viscous blood landed on the mahogany table, releasing a faint smell of rust.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Old Zhou's mouth was wide open, half of a swear word stuck in his throat, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down twice.

Sha Ruijin's facial muscles twitched violently.

His eyes were filled with terrifying red blood vessels, like an old wolf cornered on the edge of a cliff.

He ignored the still-bleeding wound on his hand.

He braced himself on the table with both hands, slowly stood up, and his kneecaps hit the table legs with a dull thud.

"Sell Handong? As long as I, Sha Ruijin, am not completely dead... no one can touch that word!"

His voice was so hoarse it sounded like he'd swallowed a handful of sandpaper, each word uttered through gritted teeth.

Sha Ruijin flicked his right hand.

A few drops of blood flew out and splattered on the edge of the brown paper bag.

"I'll climb out of this third-floor window today, even if it means it doesn't!"

He pointed to the glass window behind him, which was rattling loudly as the rain pounded against it.

"Even if I crash headfirst into the asphalt and smash my skull, I will never be a historical sinner who signed this contract of servitude!"

No one in the entire stadium dared to even breathe loudly.

Li Dakang huddled in his chair, shivering from the shock of Sha Ruijin's madness.

The upper and lower teeth made a few crisp "clucking" sounds.

"Xiao Wu!"

Sha Ruijin suddenly turned his head and yelled at his secretary, who was trembling in the corner clutching a tea bottle.

"Put it on speakerphone! Dial!"

He was panting heavily. "Call the Lingxiao Consortium! I want to talk to Yan Qingfeng in person!"

Xiao Wu's hand trembled, and the thermos almost fell on his foot.

He scrambled to the landline, his fingers flying across the keys.

"Beep—beep—"

A monotonous electronic waiting tone came from the hands-free speaker.

Every sound struck a nerve with the people inside the room.

The phone is on.

I didn't hear any voices.

All I could hear was a soft, rustling sound coming from the other end of the microphone, like someone was scattering fish food into a pool.

Then came the splashing sound of the large fish thrashing and slapping the water's surface.

Sha Ruijin leaned on the table, his chest heaving.

"Yan Qingfeng".

He faced the microphone and forced his trembling voice down.

It carried with it the last bit of bluster and authority of the top official.

"Don't be so arrogant. The province can negotiate interest on a 300 billion yuan debt with you."

Sha Ruijin swallowed hard. "But you want water, electricity, internet, and bus routes... You're tearing down the very foundation of the country!"

All that could be heard was the splashing of water as fish ate.

Occasionally, a few crisp insect chirps could be heard.

Sha Ruijin panicked and left a bloody handprint on the table.

"You can do your points system and monopolize your grain prices, and Handong will just have to accept it."

He was breathing heavily, and spittle sprayed onto the plastic casing of the landline phone.

"But you're playing with fire now... If you really push the higher-ups too far, they'll issue an official document to bring in troops into the city."

Sha Ruijin gave a dry laugh, a forced smile, "Your two trillion yuan fortune is nothing but a paper tomb!"

Suddenly, a series of hurried and chaotic footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Accompanied by heavy breathing.

"Clang!"

The heavy wooden door to the conference room was violently shoved open with a shoulder.

The brass doorknob slammed against the wall, shaking off a small piece of white wall paint.

The cold wind, mixed with the dampness of the rain, rushed in.

Xiao Lin, the director of the Provincial Party Committee Office, stumbled in and slid half a meter across the wool carpet.

He lost his left black leather shoe while running.

A gray cotton sock was on the carpet, already soaked through, leaving a dark footprint.

His trousers were rolled up to his knees, and his legs were covered in mud and water.

Xiaolin's face was as white as if it were covered in flour.

He braced his hands firmly against his knees, breathing heavily into his lungs, his chest rattling like it was being sawed.

"Director Lin? What's wrong with you?!" Old Zhang was startled when he slammed the door, his heart pounding.

Ignoring him, Xiaolin stumbled and fell towards the solid wood table.

His finger trembled as he pointed out the window in the direction of the torrential rain.

"Secretary Sha... stop calling... stop making phone calls!"

Xiaolin's tongue was tied in knots, her voice cracked, and she howled in a tearful tone.

"Jingzhou Power Group...something's happened!"

Sha Ruijin's eyelids twitched suddenly, and a chill ran down his spine.

"What happened! Explain yourself!"

"Those frontline meter readers and power grid maintenance workers... haven't received their wages in six months!"

Xiaolin swallowed hard, his saliva tasting of earth, his eyes filled with despair.

"The finance department just announced that there's no money in the account to pay salaries... More than two thousand people have already smashed all their wrenches and electrician's helmets in the workshop!"

He looked at Sha Ruijin in despair, his voice trembling like a tattered piece of paper in the cold wind.

"They...they've gone on strike! They've started pulling the main power switch!"