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

Sha Ruijin's fingernails dug into the fax paper.

Rubbing the yellowed specialty paper under your fingertips produces a dry, crisp "sizzling" sound.

In the deathly silent office, the sound was like sawing bone with a rusty saw blade.

He sat there, sullen and listless, for an entire night in front of that peeling desk.

The sky was already beginning to lighten.

The damp, cold mist of early autumn in Handong silently seeped into the room through the cracks in the broken window.

The whole room reeked of the sour smell of his sweat that had been on him all night.

Mixed with the musty smell that had accumulated over the years in the corners of the red brick building, the stuffiness made even breathing feel bitter.

The stench made one feel nauseous.

Secretary Wang shakily rummaged through the old cabinet and pulled out a few yellowed pages of letter paper.

He smoothed out the letter and placed it respectfully in front of Sha Ruijin.

He then handed over an old-fashioned iridium fountain pen with the cap removed.

Sha Ruijin's cloudy eyes were filled with terrifying red blood vessels.

He swallowed his dry saliva, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with difficulty.

He stretched out his bony hand and took the pen.

The ink in the pen was almost dry, emitting a pungent chemical smell.

His hands were shaking violently.

The pen tip, suspended in mid-air, casts a double image, failing to land on the paper for a long time.

"Secretary... Secretary, please at least write a few words."

Old Wang rubbed his hands together, cold sweat dripping down his temples.

"The capital needs it urgently; we have to take something back with us to report back."

Sha Ruijin bit down on his back molars, making a soft, grinding sound as they rubbed together.

The muscles in his groin twitched slightly, and the sharp, cramping pain made him gasp.

The rusty pen tip finally poked into the rough paper, making a "shush" sound.

In the very center of the first line, he wrote "Summary of GDP Growth in Handong Province over Five Years".

I had just finished writing the title when my pen stopped abruptly.

What number should he fill in? He wanted to make up a nice-sounding multiple to get away with it.

But what flashed through his mind in an instant was the dark blue controlled nuclear fusion 300 meters underground in the Lingxiao Building.

It is the Lingxiao-1 solid-state battery production line, which has a global monopoly.

These output values ​​are so large that they could crush the economies of several countries, but what does it have to do with the Hantong Provincial Committee?

"Old Wang, how am I supposed to write this GDP?"

Sha Ruijin's voice was hoarse, as if he were chewing sandpaper, and his eyes were filled with despair.

"Handong's economy is now entirely settled using Lingxiao Points; the RMB isn't even strong enough to wipe your bottom here!"

"Am I supposed to write in the official report that I, Sha Ruijin, colluded with Yan Qingfeng to abolish the country's legal tender?"

Old Wang was so frightened that he trembled all over and quickly waved his hand.

"No, no, no! How about we write something more practical, like public security?"

Old Wang swallowed hard and pointed to the paper, offering a suggestion in a low voice.

"Handong now has the lowest crime rate in the country; there aren't even any petty thieves."

Upon hearing this, Sha Ruijin was so angry that he trembled violently.

The fabric of the trousers rubbed against my body hair, itching terribly.

He turned his head sharply, his eyes red, and growled at Old Wang.

"Are you crazy or am I? Zero crime rate?"

"That was Yunxiao AI cutting off water and electricity in seconds, wiping out living people like trash!"

"Anyone who dares to break the rules will be instantly recorded as dead in the system, and the next day they'll be fighting with rats for food in the sewers!"

"You want me to portray Yan Qingfeng's totalitarian slaughterhouse as an achievement in my public security work?"

Old Wang shrank back as he was yelled at, cold sweat instantly soaking through his cotton undershirt.

The draft blowing through the room made me feel chilly to the bone.

"Then...then shall we write about agriculture? Mutant agriculture brings a bumper harvest, and the people eat premium rice every day."

The pen nib drew a glaring black line on the paper, tearing it completely.

The ink smeared into a dark, gooey blob.

Sha Ruijin gripped his already thinning hair tightly with both hands, almost tearing his scalp off.

"Mutant rice? That's a special supply from conglomerates, costing 1.2 yuan per kilogram, used to thoroughly brainwash the lower classes!"

"Yan Qingfeng has monopolized the lifeline of the entire province through grain!"

Sha Ruijin's chest heaved violently, his breathing heavy and labored, like a broken bellows.

"I would take credit for even half a word of it in this report."

"Yunxiao AI can intercept data in a second. If that ruthless Yan Qingfeng is unhappy, he won't even airdrop us a box of leftover rice tomorrow!"

Dead end.

This is a sure-fire, flawless trap.

His supposedly brilliant political maneuvering was stripped bare in the face of this overwhelming scientific achievement, leaving him with absolutely nothing.

Every time he tried to write a word, it felt like a rusty, dull knife was scraping his face.

Shame and despair intertwined, transforming into a terrifying physiological reaction.

The shrunken stomach walls contracted and tightened wildly inside the abdomen.

"vomit--"

Sha Ruijin covered his mouth, suddenly slumped onto the table, and began to gag violently.

The sour, putrid bile burst through his throat and dripped down his chin.

The sticky, bitter liquid dripped directly onto the torn performance report.

The sour smell of bile instantly masked the smell of ink.

The stench made Old Wang cover his nose and keep backing away.

Sha Ruijin coughed so hard it was heart-wrenching, and tears streamed down his face.

The fingers loosened.

With a "click".

The fountain pen, which I had used for ten years, fell to the ground and the nib split open.

The remaining black ink in the pen splattered out.

It hit the tip of Sha Ruijin's worn-out, yellowed leather shoes right on the ground, like an ugly patch.

He slumped in the chair, like an old dog whose spinal cord had been drained.

He finally resigned himself to his fate.

He took off his old military overcoat, which had been covered up all night and was now sour and smelly, and threw it on the ground.

"Go and bring that gray suit from the closet."

Sha Ruijin gasped for breath and wiped the bile from the corner of his mouth.

Old Wang quickly took out an old suit covered in dust.

Sha Ruijin forced himself to stand up and put on his suit.

He lost 30 pounds in the past five years, and his suit hung loosely on his frame, letting in a draft.

My underwear was soaked with cold sweat; the fabric clung to my skin, icy cold.

He moved slowly towards the door, his legs trembling.

"Squeak—"

Old Wang pushed open the rusty iron door with all his might, the screeching sound of the hinges shattering the deathly silence of the early morning.

The blinding morning light shone on Sha Ruijin's pale face.

He subconsciously squinted, his legs went weak, and he almost knelt on the steps.

Old Wang quickly grabbed his arm, his voice filled with desperate sobs.

"Secretary...the report hasn't been written at all, where are we going now?"

Sha Ruijin gritted his teeth and stuffed the few pages of bile-stained white paper into his suit pocket.

His withered lips forced a humiliating, bitter smile.

"Go to Lingxiao Building. When I left, I didn't even know how to brag anymore, so I could only beg Master Yan for a favor."

"Without his stamp, do you think those face-conscious gentlemen in Beijing would let us leave Handong alive?"