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Deep inside the warehouse, several lanterns hanging from the beams illuminated the center of the area.

Two Jiefang trucks were parked side by side there.

The area in front of the car where the license plate should be is empty, with only a few dark screw holes remaining.

The side panels of the carriage were all laid flat, resembling two steel behemoths with their mouths wide open.

Five or six men wearing tattered cotton-padded coats were shouting suppressed work chants.

"One, two, hey!"

"rise!"

They used thick crowbars to prop up the bottoms of logs that required three people to hug.

The hemp rope was stretched taut between the wood and the carriage, creaking under the strain.

The logs were slowly, bit by bit, rolled onto the truck bed.

With each roll, the car body would sway heavily, and the tires would be deformed under the pressure.

Lu Qingshan shifted his gaze from the sweating men to the logs.

By the dim light of the kerosene lamp.

He could see the bark of the logs clearly; it was a unique reddish-brown color, covered with irregular longitudinal cracks.

On the cross-section, the fine annual rings are squeezed together, almost indistinguishable from one another.

It's a red pine.

Moreover, it is a top-grade Korean pine that has grown for at least a hundred years.

Each piece of this timber has a unique number and a logging permit in the official records of the forest farm.

Cutting down even a single tree requires approval from the provincial forestry department.

Unauthorized logging and resale are crimes that could land someone in jail for life.

In his past life, he had heard from an old man who ran a mountain trail that a century-old red pine tree like this could be exchanged for a building on the black market in the south.

Now, two whole truckloads of red pine trees are right in front of him, ready to be transported to an unknown place.

He finally understood what the three hundred cubic meters of timber that had mysteriously disappeared from Gao Jianjun's fake accounts really were.

Gao Jianmin was bolder than he had imagined.

Lu Qingshan's gaze swept quickly across the scene, and he soon locked onto one person.

Skinny monkey.

He was standing next to the first truck, but he wasn't actually working.

He held a small booklet, about the size of his palm, in his hand, occasionally glancing down and making marks on it with a pencil stub.

"Hurry up, all of you!"

The skinny monkey lowered his voice, making it high-pitched and thin, revealing a sense of anxiety.

"Are you dawdling around, planning to stay here for the New Year?"

"Put this one up, then hurry up and move on to the next one!"

His shifty eyes were fixed on the loading progress, and he kept cursing under his breath.

Just then, a man who was responsible for meeting people on the train slipped on a piece of ice.

The crowbar slipped from his hand.

The huge red pine tree, which had just rolled halfway onto the carriage, lost its support and lurched backward, about to roll off the carriage.

"Holy shit!"

The people responsible for pushing below screamed in fright and jumped back.

The skinny monkey's face turned pale instantly.

He rushed over in three strides, ignoring the rickety log, and kicked the slipping man hard in the stomach.

"waste!"

The man was kicked so hard that he arched his back like a boiled shrimp, clutching his stomach and writhing in pain on the train carriage.

"Damn it, if you even scratch the bark of that wood, I'll break your legs!"

The skinny monkey pointed at his nose, his voice distorted with anger and fear.

He turned his head and roared at the several stunned workers below.

"What are you all standing there for?!"

"Hold on tight!"

"I'm telling you, these two truckloads of goods must be out of the mountains before 2:00 AM tonight!"

"If you delay the appointed time, you won't get a single penny!"

Startled by his shout, the men scrambled to their feet and used their bodies to brace against the sliding log.

Lu Qingshan's gaze swept past the chaotic scene and returned to the skinny monkey.

His attention was not on the skinny monkey's ferocious face.

And in his other hand.

That hand had been tightly gripping a thick paper package wrapped in kraft paper since the beginning.

The paper package had sharp edges, making it look like a stack of documents or receipts.

Even during the most chaotic moment, when the skinny monkey's kicking foot flew out, this hand never loosened its grip even for a moment.

Lu Qingshan's heart skipped a beat.

Gao Jianjun sent Skinny Monkey here for much more than just to supervise the construction.

These red pine trees of unknown origin do not have any official warehouse serial numbers.

Their circulation must rely on another set of independent, clandestine ledgers.

And that brown paper package is very likely it.

Loading is still ongoing.

The red pine tree that nearly rolled off the train was eventually secured safely inside the carriage.

Skinny Monkey cursed a few more times, and only breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the progress had returned to normal.

He turned and walked toward a corner of the warehouse.

There, there was an open, old gasoline drum, its walls covered in black oil stains and rust.

Skinny Monkey walked up to the gasoline can and, without hesitation, threw the brown paper package he was holding into it.

The paper package landed at the bottom of the bucket with a muffled "plop".

After completing this action, the skinny monkey looked as if he had accomplished some important task.

He exhaled a long breath of white air and rummaged around on his body.

He took out a small red square box.

It's a match.

The box also bears the familiar logo of the Red Star Match Factory.

Lu Qingshan's heart jumped into his throat.

He instantly understood Gao Jianjun's entire plan.

Tonight is the last vote.

The goods were delivered, and the money was received.

Then, a fire destroyed all the original, handwritten evidence, for which there was no second copy.

At that time, even if someone has doubts, even if they find that the fuel consumption is incorrect,

Without these original outbound documents, everything is just empty talk, and there's no way to verify it.

What a clever trick! A rabbit has three burrows, and a cicada escapes its shell.

The skinny monkey had already pulled out a match.

He closed the matchbox and pressed down on the tiny match head with his rough thumb.

Lu Qingshan unconsciously increased the pressure on Qingwei's back.

The blue tail sensed its master's tension, and emitted an extremely faint whimper from deep in its throat, while the muscles in its front paws bulged.

The only sounds in the warehouse were the workers' heavy breathing and the rustling of wood.

Skinny Monkey held the match in his hand and glanced at the loading progress again.

The first truck is almost full.

Time is passing by, second by second.

The skinny monkey seemed to feel that he couldn't wait any longer.

He looked away, and with his hand holding the match, he slashed the side of the matchbox.

"Sizzle—"

A slight yet grating scraping sound rang out in the noisy warehouse.

A small cluster of faint, orange-yellow flames suddenly lit up.

The flickering firelight illuminated the skinny monkey's sinister face and revealed a hint of cruelty deep in his eyes.

He flipped his wrist.

The deadly spark fell directly into the gasoline drum filled with evidence of the crime.