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

The underground cold storage room on the VIP special needs floor of Handong Provincial People's Hospital.

Dean Zhang Dequan stood in front of the heavy Hengwen gate, his white coat soaked through.

On the gate, two seals bearing the red seal of Lingxiao Medical were affixed in a crisscross pattern.

Inside the door, the freezer, which was usually filled with imported special medicines, was now so empty that you couldn't even find a fly.

The vice president held a stack of prescription expediting forms, his hands trembling as if he had Parkinson's disease.

"Dean, Dr. Liu, who's in ward number eight, has completely run out of targeted therapy for lung cancer!"

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice trembling.

"His family members just went crazy and smashed all the computers at the triage desk upstairs!"

Zhang Dequan stared blankly and suddenly grabbed his already sparse hair.

"What's the point of smashing the triage desk! Even if you smash me to death, I won't conjure up an upgraded version of Gleevec!"

He kicked a trash can in the corridor, and the metal can rolled a long way with a clatter.

"The exclusive distribution rights for high-end pharmaceuticals throughout the province are entirely in the hands of Dean Bai Zhi of the Lingxiao Consortium!"

Zhang Dequan was on the verge of tears, his voice hoarse.

"They followed all the legal procedures to seal off the warehouse and conduct an inventory check; even the customs containers were returned. What can I do to save my life?!"

Not only have public hospitals stopped receiving funding, but the black market has also been thrown into chaos.

The cell phones of several major drug dealers in Jingzhou's underground black market have been knocked out of order.

The price of imported life-extending drugs, which normally cost tens of thousands of yuan per box, has skyrocketed.

"Three million! As long as you can produce a box of cardiovascular thrombolytic agents, I'll transfer the money to you immediately!"

A wealthy woman in a mink coat was hysterically yelling into her phone in a hospital corridor.

"My husband is a section chief at the National Development and Reform Commission! If you dare refuse to get me the medicine, I'll have your illegal stall shut down tomorrow!"

The black market boss on the other end of the phone chuckled bitterly, his voice filled with deep helplessness.

"Madam, even if you offer a hundred million, it won't make a difference. The source of this medicine is entirely in the hands of the Lingxiao Consortium."

He stood in the empty warehouse, sighing repeatedly.

"Bai Zhi has cut off the channels, not even a single syringe can slip through the net. The black market is cleaner than your face now!"

The woman's wrist went limp, and her phone fell to the floor tiles with a "thud," shattering the screen.

She collapsed against the wall as if she had lost her mind, covering her face and wailing.

The camera cuts to Beijing.

Inside a luxurious detached villa within the Second Ring Road, things are now in complete chaos, like a pot of boiling water.

"Quick! Get me the nitroglycerin pills! Uncle's about to die!"

Zhong Xiaoai knelt on the Persian carpet with disheveled hair, pressing her hands desperately against the old man's chest on the sofa.

Lying on the sofa was her uncle, a key figure in a powerful department of the Zhong family in Beijing.

At this moment, the old man's face turned purple and blue, and a bellows-like sound came from his throat, his eyes rolling upwards.

"Sister Ai, the nitroglycerin pills aren't working!"

The nanny was so anxious that she cried, and the medicine bottle in her hand rolled all over the floor, scattering pills everywhere.

"The doctor just said that my uncle's life can only be saved by the imported, specially supplied thrombolytic agent from Handong Lingxiao Hospital!"

The nanny pointed at the first-aid kit and cried uncontrollably.

"We finished our spare medication yesterday, and the new medication hasn't arrived yet!"

Zhong Xiaoai suddenly raised her head, and her usually aloof face finally revealed a deep-seated fear.

She grabbed the secure phone next to her and dialed the number for the Handong Provincial People's Hospital with trembling fingers.

"This is Zhong Xiaoai from Beijing! Let your dean answer the phone!"

She screamed into the microphone like a madwoman, completely devoid of the poise of a wealthy heiress.

"Send a helicopter immediately with ten boxes of thrombolytic agents to Beijing! If anything goes wrong, I'll hold you all accountable!"

On the other end of the phone, Zhang Dequan almost burst out laughing in anger upon hearing this arrogant order.

"Director Zhong, please don't use your position to pressure us. We don't have the medicine, not even an empty medicine box."

Zhang Dequan was in a state of utter despair, his tone carrying a desperate, bachelor-like air.

"Lingxiao Medical has entered a period of technology sequestration, and there are no effective drugs left in the entire province."

"If you're really so capable, go ask Master Yan for it yourself!"

The busy beeping sound scraped against my eardrums like a knife.

Zhong Xiaoai stood frozen in place, listening to her uncle's increasingly weak breathing, a chill running from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her head.

She finally understood what it meant when Death stood at her bedside with his scythe.

The power she was so proud of was nothing at all.

The scene cuts back to the No. 1 office of the Hantong Provincial Party Committee.

Sha Ruijin slumped in the large boss's chair like a soulless zombie.

The broken inkstone on the floor hadn't been swept away yet, and a pungent smell of ink wafted through the room.

On the desk, five landline phones of different classes were screaming wildly incessantly.

"Ring ring ring—"

Secretary Bai covered her ears, feeling as if the ringtone was about to explode in her head.

"Secretary Sha, it's the Bureau of Veteran Cadres calling. Should we answer it?"

Sha Ruijin's eyelids drooped, and he waved his hand weakly.

"What are you going to answer? Answer them to listen to them cursing?"

Secretary Bai swallowed hard, his saliva dry, and shakily pressed the speakerphone button.

What came through the loudspeaker was not the usual imperious questioning and pressure.

Instead, they were crying out in anguish and pleading voices!

"Secretary Sha! I beg you, please think of a solution! My old man is about to suffocate!"

A family member of a retired deputy provincial-level leader cried her heart out on the phone.

"I'd kowtow to you if you could get me some special filters for ventilators!"

"Stop fighting with the Lingxiao Consortium, leave a way out for us old guys!"

The crying was like a rusty saw blade, tugging at Sha Ruijin's taut nerves.

Immediately afterwards, the second red-line confidential hotline rang.

This time it was a high-ranking official from a ministry in Beijing, someone from Zhong Xiaoai's circle.

"Old Sha! I don't care what methods you use, get Yan Qingfeng to open the medicine storehouse immediately!"

The official's voice was filled with utter panic and exasperation.

"Money is no problem! Policy is no problem! As long as my father-in-law's life can be saved, he can name his terms!"

Power, in the face of death, meekly bows its proud head.

Those big shots who usually support the Zhong family and clamor to uproot Yan Qingfeng.

Now they're all like ants on a hot pan, rushing to call Sha Ruijin, crying and begging for help.

Sha Ruijin closed his eyes with a bitter smile, squeezing out two drops of despairing tears from the corners of his eyes.

In his entire life, he had never felt so humiliated as the provincial party secretary.

He slowly sat up straight and reached out to unplug all the screaming phone lines.

The office fell into a deathly silence.

Sha Ruijin grabbed the black trench coat draped over the back of the chair and stiffly put it on.

Li Dakang pushed open the door and walked in, his gray hair as messy as a clump of withered grass.

"Secretary Sha, things are in complete chaos outside. The families of patients in the special needs wards have blocked the main gate of the Municipal Party Committee."

Li Dakang's lips were pale, and his voice was weak, like that of a wandering ghost.

Sha Ruijin didn't look at him, but silently buttoned up his trench coat.

His bloodshot eyes revealed a deathly stillness, as if he had been forced to the edge of a cliff.

Sha Ruijin straightened his collar, grabbed the car keys from the table, and strode out the door.

"Dakang, let's go."

Sha Ruijin's voice echoed softly in the corridor.

Li Dakang paused for a moment, then quickly followed, "Where are we going? The people and officials are really angry!"

Sha Ruijin stopped and turned around.

A bitter smile, more bitter than gallnut, tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes filled with a resigned desolation.

"Where to?"

Sha Ruijin gritted his teeth, staring at Li Dakang's deathly pale face.

"Go to Lingxiao Manor and kowtow."

He took a deep breath of the cold air, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

"Go tell the men below. Even if Yan Qingfeng makes me lick the soles of his shoes, I'll lick out this life-saving medicine, box after box!"