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

The bitter, despairing taste emanating from Old Xu's cup of Da Hong Pao seemed to drift and spread along the gloomy sewers of Beijing.

They eventually infiltrated the confidential archives room on the eighteenth underground floor.

Here, you never see even a glimmer of sunlight all year round.

The air was thick with the musty smell of fermenting rotten paper, mixed with the earthy odor emanating from the green mold spots in the corner.

I took a deep breath, and my lungs felt suffocated.

Zhong Xiaoai knelt on the dusty cement floor, clutching a blackened, tattered rag in her hand.

The designer silk shirt she once wore, a symbol of her status, was long gone.

Instead, there was a yellowed, pilling, low-quality cotton work uniform.

The collar was worn and frayed, and after being soaked in the cold sweat of the basement, it emitted an unpleasant, sour smell of overnight sweat.

"What are you doing? Are you blind? You've completely soaked this 1998 file!"

A sharp curse suddenly rang out in the narrow corridor.

Wang Fang, the female manager dressed in a smart business suit, kicked Zhong Xiaoai in the shoulder.

The hard heel of the pointed high heel pierced into Zhong Xiaoai's thin collarbone without mercy.

"Well!"

Zhong Xiaoai shuddered in pain and fell backward, crashing heavily into the rusty metal cabinet.

The sheet metal made a dull thud, sending a shiver down her spine.

The muscles in my groin were spasming uncontrollably and violently due to malnutrition, and the fabric of my trousers was rubbing against my cold sweat, making me feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Sister Wang... I'm sorry, the light here was broken and it was too dim, I couldn't see clearly..."

Chung Hsiao-ai's throat was so dry it felt like she was swallowing a handful of rusty thumbtacks.

Her voice trembled violently as she struggled to get up, her hands gripping the cold, icy concrete floor tightly.

"Snapped!"

Wang Fang didn't give her a chance to explain at all, and slapped her hard across the face.

The slap landed squarely on Zhong Xiaoai's sallow, sunken face, which was tanned from hunger.

That slap was heavy.

Zhong Xiaoai's left ear suddenly rang with a long "buzz," her eardrum throbbed with pain, and she couldn't hear anything clearly.

The inside of his mouth was brutally broken by his teeth, and a salty, metallic, bloody taste rushed into his throat.

She bit her chapped, bleeding lips hard, her ten fingers curling up on the ground.

The fingernails dug fiercely into the cracks of the cement floor, the nails instantly curling up and oozing fine beads of blood.

Once, Wang Fang stood outside her house for three hours like a lapdog, begging her to get a transfer order.

But now, the Zhong family, this towering tree, has been uprooted by the Lingxiao Consortium.

Zhong Xiaoai became a vermin within the Beijing system, someone everyone could trample on at will.

Wang Fang shook her hand in disgust and spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground.

The thick, yellowish-green phlegm landed right on the tip of Zhong Xiaoai's shoe.

"You think you're some high and mighty young lady from the Zhong family? Master Yan could crush you all like ants. Get to work, or you won't get that half-eaten steamed bun today!"

The sound of high heels echoed as they walked away with an air of arrogance.

Zhong Xiaoai slumped in the corner of the cabinet like a lump of mud, trembling all over.

I'm hungry. So hungry.

Having been hungry for a whole day and night, my stomach was contracting and rubbing wildly.

Stomach acid surged up her esophagus, burning her so badly she broke out in a cold sweat, and her chest tightened in waves.

"vomit--"

She clutched her empty stomach and dry heaved a few times, but only vomited a few mouthfuls of bitter-tasting water, and tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

Just then, the old, yellowed television at the end of the corridor suddenly interrupted with a news report.

The monotonous, mechanical voice of Yunxiao AI echoed back and forth in the basement.

"Handong Province has fully implemented the Lingxiao welfare guarantee."

"The free canteen for sanitation workers in Block 32 of Guangming District has officially been put into use."

Zhong Xiaoai struggled to lift her head, her bloodshot eyes fixed on the screen.

The scene shows the streets of Handong bathed in sunshine.

A cleaning lady in a brand-new uniform was sitting in the 24-hour temperature-controlled break room, enjoying the air conditioning.

A huge stainless steel lunchbox was placed in front of me.

The lunchbox was filled with crystal-clear, plump Lingxiao special-supply mutated rice.

The woman picked up a piece of the mutated pork rib with altered fat and lean meat and took a big bite.

Rich meat juices dripped down her chin, and the woman's eyes narrowed into slits as she smiled.

"Master Yan is truly a living bodhisattva! Rice is only 1.2 yuan per jin (500g), and meat is only 5 yuan, all paid for with points. Who would have dared to imagine that before!"

The middle-aged woman gave a thumbs-up to the camera, her face beaming with fervent happiness.

Looking at the fragrant rice and ribs on the screen.

Zhong Xiaoai's Adam's apple bobbed violently as she frantically swallowed her dry saliva.

The stomach cramps reached their peak at that moment, feeling as if ten thousand steel needles were piercing into the soft flesh at the same time.

Her psychological defenses crumbled completely in the face of this boxed lunch.

What about a prestigious university degree, what about the dignity and rules of a well-bred lady?

It's nothing compared to the pain in my stomach.

With trembling hands, she pulled the old cell phone with its screen shattered into a spiderweb pattern from her pocket.

My thumb was shaking so badly it felt like I was fluffing cotton; I swiped the wrong thing several times before finally opening the contacts.

His gaze was fixed on one name: Wu Huifen.

I heard that Gao Yuliang's ex-wife surrendered early and voluntarily offered her blood oath.

Now, he has a lucrative job as an unofficial welfare administrator in the Lingxiao Consortium, and he is living a comfortable life.

Zhong Xiaoai gritted her teeth so hard they shattered, and tears mixed with the dust on her face streamed down her cheeks.

She pressed the dial button.

"Beep...beep..."

The waiting tone was like a death knell; with each ring, the cramps in her thighs worsened.

The phone is on.

"Feed? Who?"

On the other end of the phone, Wu Huifen's voice sounded languid, and there was even a faint background of soothing light music.

"Teacher Wu...it's me, Xiao Ai."

Zhong Xiaoai's voice cracked, thick with nasal tones, and her posture was so humble it was almost unbearable.

"Please...please save me!"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

Then, a clear chewing sound was heard.

Wu Huifen was leaning back on the leather sofa in Lingxiao Welfare Apartment.

The air conditioning, maintaining a constant temperature of 24 degrees Celsius, is very comfortable.

She held in her hand a fist-sized, bright red, specially made mutant apple from the Lingxiao brand.

With a "crunch," a large bite was taken, and the crisp sound traveled through the receiver to the basement.

The sweet aroma of fruit juice seemed to penetrate the radio waves and slap Zhong Xiaoai's hungry face.

"Oh, isn't this the once aloof and high-and-mighty Miss Zhong?"

Wu Huifen slowly chewed the fruit, her tone devoid of any of her usual politeness.

"What, tired of all the delicacies in Beijing? You've finally remembered to call this old woman?"

Zhong Xiaoai gripped the receiver tightly.

Using too much force, the fingernails dug deep into the flesh of the palm, drawing out a few streaks of bright red blood.

She didn't care about the pain at all; tears mixed with snot smeared her face, and her voice was shrill.

"Teacher Wu, I was wrong! I was ignorant before, I kowtow to you and apologize!"

She nodded frantically at the air while wailing loudly.

"I really can't go on living like this! They beat me every day, and I can't even get a stale cornbread to eat."

"You have connections within the Lingxiao Consortium, right? Could you please introduce me?"

She sniffed her congested nose and completely abandoned any semblance of dignity.

"I don't care about the position! I don't care about the pay! I just want a bite of the mutated rice from Handong."

"Even if it's sweeping the floors at the original site of the Dafeng Factory, or cleaning toilets and scrubbing toilets in the Lingxiao Building, I'd be willing to do it!"

All that could be heard on the phone was Zhong Xiaoai's heavy, mournful sobs.

The moldy air conditioning in the basement made her shiver, and her teeth chattered together.

Wu Huifen swallowed the fruit in her mouth.

She grabbed an expensive velvet tissue and slowly wiped the juice off her hands.

Then, a harsh, cruelly mocking laugh came from the receiver.

"Heh...washing toilets?"

Wu Huifen's voice was as cold as a piece of iron plate just pulled from the freezer, carrying a ruthless sneer of mockery.

"Zhong Xiaoai, are you hallucinating from hunger? Do you still think this is the old Handong where you used to be so particular about social niceties? Do you really think you can just scrub the toilets at the Lingxiao Consortium whenever you want?"