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

"Sizzle—"

The moment Zhao Gang stepped over that pale blue energy shield, it was as if he had crossed a boundary between Yin and Yang.

Outside, it's a furnace of forty degrees Celsius that could melt a person; inside, it's a bone-chilling ice cellar of sixteen degrees Celsius.

The two extreme temperatures collided without any transition, like two invisible steel knives scraping his flesh.

He was already on the verge of death from the torment of that ten-kilometer winding mountain road.

The expensive haute couture suit he was wearing had long been soaked in sweat and turned into a tattered rag that smelled of fermentation.

The muscles at the base of my thighs were twisted into a tight knot, and I was cramping violently with every step.

The extreme cold air hit him head-on, and the pores all over his body instantly constricted and stood on end.

The upper and lower rows of teeth were completely out of control.

They collided violently, making a series of crisp, crackling sounds, and even their gums trembled.

The stomach wall suddenly erupted in a violent spasm.

The sour bile, mixed with undigested residue, gushed uncontrollably back into the throat.

Zhao Gang clutched his cramping stomach, curling up like a shrimp.

"vomit--"

He let out a harsh, dry heave, as if his throat had been rubbed raw by sandpaper.

Bitter liquid dripped down his chapped lips, landing on the luxurious carpet in the manor's foyer, emitting a pungent, sour odor.

He didn't even dare to reach out and wipe his mouth.

He forced back the remaining half of the sour water in his throat, dragged his cramping legs, and stumbled forward.

The manor hall is as spacious as a modern cyber palace.

The air was filled with a faint, luxurious fir scent, yet it also carried a deathly, oppressive atmosphere that threatened to bury one alive.

In the center of the hall, a holographic golf simulator is emitting a dazzling, deep blue light.

Yan Qingfeng was wearing a perfectly wrinkle-free black shirt with the cuffs slightly rolled up.

He was holding a pure titanium golf club, his back to Zhao Gang.

"Bang!"

The cue stick swung out sharply, striking the white ball hard on the ground.

A crisp metallic clang exploded in the empty hall, making everyone's eardrums tingle.

The sound was like a heavy blow to the back of Zhao Gang's head.

His already cramped legs completely lost their last bit of strength.

His knees buckled, and with a thud, he knelt firmly on the expensive Persian carpet.

His kneecap slammed against the hard ground, causing him to grimace in pain, but he didn't dare utter a single cry.

Yan Qingfeng did not turn around.

He watched the ball's trajectory fly into the distance on the holographic screen, gently rotating the cue stick with his wrist.

"Secretary Zhao, was the 10-kilometer mountain road a comfortable ride?"

Yan Qingfeng's voice was completely flat, colder and more piercing than the air conditioning in the hall.

He showed no sign of joy or anger, but exuded an absolute arrogance that seemed to trample people underfoot.

Zhao Gang's Adam's apple bobbed up and down twice with difficulty.

He swallowed a mouthful of saliva that tasted of rust and blood.

"So...so comfortable."

His voice was hoarse and cracked, revealing a sense of utter humiliation as if his spine had been completely broken. "I have learned from the rules set by Master Yan."

Yan Qingfeng casually tossed the pure titanium golf club to the mechanical butler beside him.

He turned around and looked down at Zhao Gang, who was kneeling on the ground, with eyes as if he were looking at a dehydrated dead dog.

"The capital city parachuted you in to be the top leader, just so you could check in."

Yan Qingfeng walked to the leather sofa, sat down, and picked up a glass of whiskey with an ice ball.

"I didn't bring you here to be an official."

Accompanied by the cold, metallic sound of high heels, "clack clack clack".

Chief Legal Officer Lin Yubing walked over, dressed in a tight black suit.

She remained expressionless, and with a flick of her pale wrist, she achieved her goal.

A thick stack of "Government-Enterprise Cooperation Memoranda," as thick as bricks, was slammed onto the carpet in front of Zhao Gang.

The edge of the paper scraped against the fabric, making a dry, soft sound.

Yan Qingfeng swirled his wine glass, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.

"Handong doesn't need any government."

He stared at Zhao Gang's pale face and threw out the most ruthless bottom line.

"All I need is a legal department that can stamp the official seal on international treaties to support the overseas expansion of the Lingxiao Consortium."

Zhao Gang was shivering all over, and cold sweat was pouring down his spine.

His icy underwear, soaked through, clung to his flesh, chilling him to the bone.

"You should just be a ruthless stamping machine."

Yan Qingfeng tilted his head back and took a swig of strong liquor. "The tiny bit of GDP that Ling Xiao leaks out of his fingers is enough for you to rise to prominence in the capital."

Yan Qingfeng put down his wine glass, leaned forward slightly, and shot a bloodthirsty cold light into his eyes.

"But if you want to emulate the imperial envoys of the previous dynasty and go on some kind of incognito visit with me..."

He let out a cruel, cold laugh.

"Those old-fashioned rats in the sewers can't even get their hands on moldy potatoes anymore. Want to join us for a meal?"

This sentence is like a bucket of ice water at tens of degrees below zero.

The water poured over Zhao Gang's head, soaking him completely.

Fear caused his thigh muscles to twitch violently, and he frantically kowtowed on the ground.

His forehead slammed onto the carpet with a dull thud.

"I understand! I understand everything! I, Zhao Gang, am just a seal in Master Yan's hands!"

His hands trembled as he picked up the memo from the ground.

Once this document is signed, it will be tantamount to completely and physically stripping the power of the Handong government, transferring it entirely to the conglomerate.

He pulled off the cap of the pen, his fingers trembling so much he could barely hold the pen.

He signed his name, "Zhao Gang," in a crooked and shaky manner at the end.

Because of excessive force, the pen tip directly tore through the rough paper, leaving a trail of desperate black ink.

After signing the papers, he collapsed onto the carpet like a lump of mud.

He relinquished the last shred of dignity he had left as a powerful regional official.

"Master Yan... then... then I'll take my leave..."

Zhao Gang used both hands and feet, like a lowly eunuch, to backtrack towards the gate.

"Bang!"

Just then, the two heavy, brass-clad gates of the manor were suddenly kicked open violently from the outside.

The heavy metal door slammed against the wall.

The tremendous force of the tremor caused dust to fall from the ceiling.

Shen Pojun, a towering iron tower over two meters tall, strode in like a man-eating black demon.

He carried a strong smell of rust and blood.

The strong smell of heavy engine oil instantly overwhelmed the fir fragrance in the hall.

Zhao Gang was overwhelmed by the nauseating smell of blood.

My bladder tightened suddenly in fright, and I almost lost control of my urination.

He scrambled to the corner, covered his mouth tightly, and didn't dare to breathe.

Dark red blood was still dripping from Shen Pojun's heavy military boots.

With each step, a shocking bloodstain was left on the expensive Persian carpet.

In his large, fan-like hands, he tightly gripped a tablet computer with a shattered screen.

The edges of the flat plate were still stained with blood and gore mixed with bits of flesh.

"Master Yan, something's happened!"

Shen Pojun's rough voice made the hall buzz.

He strode over to the coffee table and slammed the blood-stained tablet down on it with a loud "thud".

Yan Qingfeng didn't even lift his eyelids, reached out and picked up the ice water on the table, and took a sip.

"explain."

"Those reckless vampires of old European money spent a fortune to bribe one of our former government's old dogs at the Academy of Agricultural Sciences."

Shen Pojun gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with a ferocious, bloodthirsty light.

Thick fingers slammed heavily into the blood-stained screen.

"Someone hired a black ship on the high seas."

"They attempted to smuggle the core blueprints for our Lingxiao-1 solid-state battery out of the country!"