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

Outside the high-tech park, the cold wind swirled withered yellow leaves on the asphalt road.

More than three thousand local workers hunched over, crouching densely outside the iron fence.

Pairs of eyes, bulging with hunger, stared intently at the tightly closed factory gates.

The cold rain, mixed with the wind, made the group of men shiver so badly they couldn't even utter a protest slogan.

Acting Mayor Yi Xuexi of Jingzhou stood across the street.

His old, faded jacket had its collar flapping wildly in the wind.

He didn't bring his secretary, nor did he ask for the municipal party committee's car; he just stood there all alone in the flow of people leaving get off work.

Looking at the fellow villagers from Jingzhou who couldn't get their wages because foreign investment had stalled.

Yi Xuexi's heart felt like it had been rubbed hard by coarse sandpaper, burning with pain.

Sha Ruijin and Li Dakang were too proud to clean up the mess left by foreign investors.

The foreign capitalist George was a heartless bloodsucker. Seeing that there was no more profit to be made, he simply abandoned the workers.

"When gods fight, mortals suffer."

Yi Xuexi rubbed his frozen hands and hailed a Jetta taxi with chipped paint from the roadside.

"Master, to Lingxiao Manor."

He climbed into the carriage, leaned back in the worn-out seat, and let out a heavy sigh.

The one who tied the knot must untie it; only that living Yama can solve this deadlock in Handong.

Half an hour later, the Jetta braked in front of the two towering brass gates on the outskirts of the city.

Yi Xuexi paid the fare, opened the door, and got out of the car.

He looked up at the security camera above the gate.

He didn't put on airs like Sha Ruijin, a high-ranking official, nor did he jump up and down in a fit of rage outside the door like Li Dakang.

He walked up to the white marble pillar, straightened the hem of his old jacket, and patted the mud off his trousers.

He stretched out his rough fingers and rang the doorbell respectfully.

"Ding-dong."

A faint electrical hum came from the walkie-talkie.

Yi Xuexi leaned closer to the microphone, his tone sincere and without a trace of official jargon.

"I am Yi Xuexi, the acting mayor of Jingzhou. Please inform him that I wish to see General Yan."

In the main building's control room, the underfloor heating was running at full blast.

Yan Qingfeng was leaning back on the sofa, playing with the custom-made pure gold lighter.

On the monitor screen on the wall, it was clear that Yi Xuexi was rubbing his hands because of the cold.

The acting mayor's shoes were covered in yellow mud, and he wasn't even wearing a scarf to protect himself from the wind; he just stood there obediently.

"Master Yan, this Mayor Yi certainly knows the rules."

The old butler, Afu, stood to the side, a hint of admiration flashing in his cloudy eyes.

"They're much more capable than the previous two."

Yan Qingfeng snapped the lighter shut, stood up, and dusted off his loose-fitting jacket.

"Among the officials in Handong, only this one can be considered a real workhorse."

He turned and walked down to the tea room, his voice calm yet conveying an undeniable determination.

"Uncle Fu, open the door to welcome our guests."

Yan Qingfeng walked to the top of the stairs, turned his head and said something.

"While you're at it, go to the kitchen and make a bowl of hot soup noodles."

The heavy brass doors slid silently open to both sides.

Afu, dressed in a well-fitting tuxedo, personally welcomed Yi Xuexi into the antique-style tea room.

The room was filled with the warmth of fine silver charcoal, which instantly dispelled the chill that Yi Xuexi had brought in.

The air was filled with a calming and invigorating sandalwood scent.

Yan Qingfeng sat behind the rosewood tea table, not putting on airs like a multi-billionaire.

He even personally picked up the purple clay teapot to boil water and poured a cup of hot tea for Yi Xuexi.

"Mayor Yi, it's windy outside. Have some tea to warm yourself up first."

Yan Qingfeng gestured for him to proceed, his gaze calm and serene.

Yi Xuexi accepted the teacup with both hands, somewhat flattered.

He had grown accustomed to the arrogant demeanor of George, that kind of foreigner, over the past few days.

Looking at the mastermind behind the casual upheaval of Handong, the contrast was so stark that he was in a daze.

Just as I was about to get to the point, a rich aroma of scallions and lard wafted into the tea room.

Afu carried a blue-and-white porcelain bowl and placed it steadily in front of Yi Xuexi.

The bowl contained clear bone broth, and a golden fried egg rested atop the smooth noodles.

"Mayor Yi has been running around for the people all day; his stomach must be empty by now."

Yan Qingfeng handed over a pair of ivory chopsticks.

"Try Uncle Fu's cooking, plain noodles."

Yi Xuexi looked at the steaming bowl of noodles, and his eyes suddenly stung with tears.

He was indeed hungry; he had been eating a few cold buns since morning, and his stomach was full of acid reflux.

Inside the provincial party committee compound, nobody cared whether the acting mayor was hungry or not.

Without any hesitation, he grabbed his chopsticks and started slurping loudly.

In the quiet tea room, only the sound of Yi Xuexi wolfing down his noodles could be heard.

He even drank the last drop of clear soup from the large bowl.

After finishing a bowl of hot soup noodles, a fine layer of sweat appeared on my forehead, and my tense nerves relaxed.

Yi Xuexi grabbed a tissue to wipe his mouth and gently pushed the empty bowl away.

He leaned forward abruptly, his gaze meeting Yan Qingfeng's unfathomable eyes.

"Mr. Yan, I've finished my noodles. I'm shamelessly asking you for a favor."

Yi Xuexi took a deep breath, his voice filled with a resolute determination.

"I don't care about the fate of those foreign investors in the science park; they're just greedy and can't keep their mouths shut."

He clenched his calloused fists, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

"Whether Li Dakang's political achievements can be preserved or not, I care even less!"

Yi Xuexi pointed out the window towards the city of Jingzhou, his eyes filled with alarming bloodshot veins.

"But the more than three thousand fellow villagers from Handong that George recruited are innocent!"

"I have elderly parents and young children at home, and I rely on this assembly line wage from contract manufacturing to buy rice and cook."

His eyes were red, and his voice was hoarse like sandpaper.

"Now we can't buy materials, the machines can't run, and ordinary people can't even afford a single leaf of vegetable!"

Yi Xuexi gritted his teeth, his old face contorted with rage, his voice trembling violently.

"President Yan, you punished the foreigners and cut off the supply chain. It's time to vent your anger."

He stood up from his chair and bowed deeply to Yan Qingfeng.

"But the mortals below are also about to suffer and starve to death."

"I beg you, in your great mercy, to spare the lives of the people of Jingzhou!"

The tea room fell silent.

The silver charcoal occasionally crackled with a soft pop.

Yan Qingfeng quietly watched the acting mayor who was bowing and unable to stand, and tapped his fingers twice on the table.

He took out a clean white napkin and, across the tea table, steadily handed it to Yi Xuexi.

"Mayor Yi, wipe your sweat and sit down to talk."

Yan Qingfeng's eyes were unfathomable, revealing no trace of joy or anger.

Yi Xuexi took the tissue blankly, slumped back into his chair, his palms sweating profusely.

Yan Qingfeng leaned back in his chair, a cold, sharp smile curving his lips.

"When I, Yan Qingfeng, built bridges and paved roads in Handong, I never shortchanged the workers at the bottom by a single penny."

He exuded an aura of authority, and the oppressive presence of a superior instantly filled the entire tea room.

"I don't hate poor people, and I have no interest in taking away their livelihoods."

Yan Qingfeng leaned forward slightly, like a lion about to open its eyes, staring intently at Yi Xuexi.

"I only hate those foreign capitalists who come to my house and want to take my peaches for free."

He narrowed his eyes, looked past the teacup, and revealed his final trump card.

"We can all eat together. I can also leave a way out for my fellow villagers from Handong."

Yan Qingfeng paused, a hint of absolute dominance flashing in his deep eyes.

"But if foreign investors want to continue to thrive in this land, then I have to set the rules for how they pay for things."