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

It was just past 6:30 in the morning in the old residential area on Guangming Road.

A layer of murky oil slicked up the puddles by the roadside, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of frying dough sticks.

Aunt Wang stood in front of the oil pan.

His eyes were dark and swollen from lack of sleep, as if he had been punched twice in the face.

She heard on the radio last night that the Lingxiao Consortium had signed a contract to take over the city's water, electricity, and internet networks.

She was so frightened that she didn't dare close her eyes all night, and her stomach was constantly churning with acid.

If capitalists control water and electricity, won't they drive water and electricity fees to the sky?

I'm afraid we won't even have enough water to make this dough for fried dough sticks anymore.

She shakily rubbed the greasy soybean oil from her hands onto the oil-stained apron.

He pulled out a broken smartphone with its screen shattered into a spiderweb pattern in the upper left corner from his oversized trouser pocket.

My thumb, hardened from years of hard work, tapped the "Lingxiao Life APP" icon.

Because my hand was shaking, I had to tap it three times before it opened.

"Hey girl, half a pound of fried dough sticks, please, make them extra crispy."

Old Li from the next building came over carrying a tattered net bag, peeking his bald head at the screen.

"What are you looking at? Checking the electricity bill, huh? My heart's pounding too. Is Master Yan going to skin us alive this time?"

Aunt Wang ignored him.

She took a deep breath, and a mouthful of pungent cooking fumes rushed into her lungs, causing her to cough violently.

Tap your finger onto the bill page.

The dark gold cloud-like page spun around and displayed a long string of numbers.

Grandma Wang was stunned.

She rubbed the dry eye discharge from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, thinking that her presbyopia was acting up.

"This...this isn't right..."

Her voice cracked, the dry sound like two pieces of broken wood grinding against each other.

Old Li got anxious and snatched the phone away.

"What happened? How much did it go up? A thousand or ten thousand?"

His eyes widened as he stared intently at the cracked screen.

The next second, Old Li gasped for breath as if he were having a seizure, his teeth chattering loudly.

"It's...it's gone down?!"

Old Li stuttered so badly he couldn't even speak properly.

"Last month your water bill was 38 yuan, and your electricity bill was 120 yuan. What does this bill say... 75 yuan actually paid?"

Grandma Wang snatched the phone back.

Pointing to the bold red text below, his hand trembled as if he were having a seizure.

"Are you blind?! Look at this line of text!"

"Full discounts are available using Lingxiao Points... You don't even need to pay in cash this month!"

At that moment, a group of elderly men and women swarmed around the breakfast stall.

They had just gone downstairs to buy breakfast when Old Li yelled at them to come over.

"Really? The price dropped by more than thirty yuan at my place too!"

"They even waived the sewage treatment fee! Master Yan is really going all out!"

A middle-aged man with a buzz cut and wearing dirty overalls squeezed into the crowd.

He yelled in a hoarse voice, his spittle flying everywhere in the cold morning wind.

"Oh my, my nephew used to work as a temporary worker at the power company."

"He just posted on his WeChat Moments that all those 30,000-plus idle people who just took money without doing any work and spent their days drinking tea and reading newspapers were fired by the conglomerate's AI system!"

The man with the buzz cut slapped his thigh, making a crisp "smack" sound.

"Good riddance! Keeping those parasites in the system means all those expenses are being factored into our electricity bills!"

"Long live Lord Yan! This is real money, a way for us to survive!"

His face flushed with excitement, and the veins on his neck bulged as if they were about to burst.

I don't know who started it.

The owner of the corner grocery store, which was struggling and on the verge of closing down, suddenly brought out two strings of 10,000-shot large red cigarettes.

They unpacked it and threw it directly onto the curb.

"Crackling and popping—boom!"

The ear-piercing sound of firecrackers instantly exploded on the narrow street, making people's eardrums go numb.

The strong smell of cheap gunpowder and gunpowder was like a thick fog.

It blows into people's nostrils with the wind, making them choke and their eyes water.

But not a single person on the street covered their nose and moved away.

The entire streets of Jingzhou resembled a giant powder keg ignited by a single spark.

It was completely boiling over.

The clanging of gongs and drums rang out from all directions.

The people spontaneously took to the streets; there was no need for any neighborhood committee to organize them.

Some people waved red ribbons, and one old man even held up a dark gold logo of a conglomerate made of cardboard.

Everyone's face was flushed with the almost manic ecstasy of someone who had successfully protected their food.

They don't care about the nation's fate or capitalist exploitation.

They only acknowledged the few tens of dollars missing from the bill.

They only recognize this one Lingxiao Point, which doesn't require any payment.

An old black Santana without even a license plate.

Like a ghost that cannot see the light, it silently stopped under a thick old locust tree on the street corner.

The car windows were covered with a dark, explosion-proof film.

The people outside were passing by, banging drums and gongs, and had no idea who was sitting inside.

The rear window on the right was only lowered by a crack less than two fingers wide.

The pungent smell of sulfur and firecrackers outside was desperately seeping into the cracks.

The air conditioning wasn't on in the carriage, and it was as stuffy and hot as an old, sealed coffin.

Li Dakang huddled in the left side of the back seat.

The collar of his white shirt was already soaked with sweat, sticking to his neck and feeling both sticky and cold.

He stared intently at the group of people outside the window who were banging drums and gongs.

The fingers of both hands were gripping the edge of the leather seat like chicken claws.

The nail was damaged due to excessive force.

With a soft "ripping" sound, the skin was torn open.

Turn it over and take out the yellowed white sponge pad inside.

But he seemed oblivious, his fingertips still digging desperately inside.

"They're insane...they're all fucking insane..."

Li Dakang's teeth chattered, and his upper and lower gums made a soft, crackling sound.

The sound echoed back and forth in the narrow carriage.

"That's a contract of servitude that ties the necks of fifty million people in Handong to their deaths!"

He turned his head abruptly.

His eyes were bloodshot, revealing a despair like a wild dog cornered in a dead end.

"Secretary Sha, these troublemakers have been betrayed by Yan Qingfeng, and they're still cheering him on!"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty. "How can they be so happy!"

Sha Ruijin sat on the right.

Half of his lifeless old face was hidden in the shadows of the carriage, like a clay Buddha that had lost its vitality.

He didn't turn to look at Li Dakang.

My gaze followed the narrow gap in the car window and lingered on the outside.

A five- or six-year-old child was jumping and hopping in the muddy water, holding up a cardboard sign with Yan Qingfeng's image on it.

Sha Ruijin's face was drooping with loose skin.

The churning, astringent feeling in my stomach had now turned into a numbing, stagnant pool.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a specially supplied cigarette.

Stuff it into the dry, chapped lips.

My hand holding the lighter trembled three times, "click, click."

After sliding the fire wheel three times, he finally managed to produce a tiny orange flame to light the cigarette.

"call--"

A bluish-white smoke billowed through the narrow carriage.

The smell of high-end tobacco mingled with the smell of cheap gunpowder from outside.

Li Dakang coughed violently twice, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Old Li, you've spent half your life in administration, haven't you figured it out yet?"

Sha Ruijin's voice is hoarse.

It sounded like coarse sandpaper being rubbed hard on a cement floor, making your teeth ache.

He spat out the half-eaten cigarette from his mouth, his eyes revealing a chilling, bone-deep despair.

"Yan Qingfeng never intended to be some kind of old-fashioned capitalist who only knew how to suck blood."

Sha Ruijin slightly raised the finger holding the cigarette.

Pointing at the crowd of people outside who were caught up in the revelry, his fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly.

"He laid off more than 30,000 people who were receiving salaries without working, and cut back on approval processes at all levels of government."

"We will not keep a single penny of the money we save, but instead spend it all on the water, electricity, and gas bills of ordinary people."

Sha Ruijin closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the car window.

"This is called a calculated, open scheme. An unsolvable calculated scheme."

Li Dakang's Adam's apple bobbed bitterly as he swallowed a mouthful of saliva that tasted of rust.

He leaned forward, the heart pounding painfully against his ribs.

It felt like a rusty knife was stirring inside my ribcage.

Li Dakang gripped the torn leather seat tightly.

Looking at the ordinary citizens on the street who worshipped Yan Qingfeng like a living god.

The muscles in his face twitched uncontrollably.

"Secretary Sha... Yan Qingfeng isn't doing business."

Li Dakang's voice trembled like a tattered piece of paper in the cold wind, revealing a desolate sense of utter defeat.

"He's using our government's most lucrative funds to pay the salaries of these 50 million people in Handong!"