Gangster heir? Please call me a legitimate entrepreneur.

Sihai Building. 36th Floor, Premium Conference Room.

The central air conditioning vents overhead emitted a muffled "whooshing" sound.

The air was filled with the bitterness of freshly ground black coffee and the strong smell of ink from freshly opened newspapers.

Wang Hai, the deputy general manager of the public relations department, sat at the end of the long conference table.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt today. The collar was slicked back with hair gel, and the stiff edges of the fabric were rubbing against his neck.

It left a red mark.

"Click, click, click."

Wang Hai hid his right hand under the table, his thumb pressing hard on the switch of a metal ballpoint pen.

The spring emitted a rapid mechanical friction sound.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently as he swallowed hard. His throat felt as dry as if he had a handful of sand in it.

On the table in front of me was a copy of this morning's "Central Economic Herald".

It was the headline on the front page, taking up half the entire page.

The bold, black title pierced his pupils like a needle.

"The Tough Challenges of National Enterprises: A True Account of Sihai Group's Legal Counterattack Against Wall Street's Malicious Short Selling"

At the end of this magnificent three-thousand-word article.

The signature section bears two small characters: Wang Hai.

Wang Hai stared at those two words, and the muscles in his calves twitched uncontrollably.

A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple and into his eye.

The blows made his eyes ache, and he blinked several times.

He's an undercover agent. A top-notch member of the Municipal Public Security Bureau's propaganda department.

Director Li Jianguo placed him in the public relations department of Sihai Group, hoping that he could find some loopholes in the internal press releases regarding false advertising and suspected commercial fraud.

Just last night.

While Steven was dumping stocks with the Quantum Fund, Wang Hai stayed up half the night in the public relations office.

He used all his skills to write this press release.

His words were extremely arrogant.

The text is full of boasting about the Sihai Group's "massive 1.5 billion yuan fund pool" and how they "disregarded international rules" and "stood up to 300 million US dollars".

Wang Hai was making his plans meticulously.

This is called "praise to death".

Once this article is published, the bigwigs at the China Securities Regulatory Commission and the China Banking and Insurance Regulatory Commission will think, "This is unacceptable!"

How can a private enterprise that started with organized crime, holding over a billion yuan in unregulated cash flow, dare to challenge Wall Street in the secondary market?

A joint investigation team will definitely be stationed at Sihai Group to audit its accounts the next day.

The results of it.

Wang Hai reached out and tugged at his tightly tied tie, his breathing becoming erratic.

The accounts have been checked.

But when the tax bureau and customs investigated, they found that the 1.5 billion yuan was all the legitimate savings of the working class.

Not only did they not violate any regulations by increasing leverage, but they also voluntarily paid a heavy tax of 20% on the one billion US dollars they earned from foreign investment this morning.

This article was originally intended to "praise someone to death" and create a negative narrative.

Because of the Sihai Group's solidly legitimate accounts, it was transformed into a masterpiece praising the backbone of the nation and demonstrating the responsibility of a major enterprise.

It was reprinted by central media overnight.

A hand as big as a palm fan slammed heavily on Wang Hai's back.

"Holy crap!" Wang Hai was so startled that he dropped his pen on the carpet and it rolled under the table.

He almost choked to death on his own saliva.

Lei Hu pulled out the chair next to him and sat down with an air of authority.

His bald head was covered with a layer of oily sweat.

His custom-made Armani suit was about to burst from his chest muscles.

"Vice President Wang! I, Lao Lei, am completely convinced!"

Lei Hu, with his hoarse voice, grabbed the newspaper with his large, fan-like hand and shook it.

The centipede scar on his face narrowed into a slit as he smiled.

"Your pen is more powerful than the high-voltage riot control fork in our security department! You've humiliated those foreign devils so badly they're left with nothing but their underwear!"

"Director Lei... you flatter me."

Wang Haiqian smiled, but the corners of his mouth formed a curve that looked even uglier than crying.

He bent down, pretending to pick up a pen, trying to hide his hands that were trembling like a leaf.

The double doors to the conference room were pushed open.

Su Ye stepped in.

The hem of his dark blue suit swayed slightly with each step.

He walked straight to the head of the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

He held the chipped silver stainless steel thermos steadily in his left hand.

Unscrew the lid.

The metal threads meshed, producing a crisp "click".

White steam rose up, blurring the lenses of the gold-rimmed glasses.

Su Ye lowered his head and blew on the water. Two plump goji berries spun around.

He took a sip of warm water.

"Vice President Wang."

Su Ye put down his cup, his tone calm and even, without a trace of emotion.

"The manuscript is well written."

Wang Hai just crawled out from under the table, his head almost hitting the glass tabletop.

"Chairman Su, I just... wrote something casually. The main thing is that our company's legal achievements are too touching."

He stammered, his fingernails digging into the seams of his trousers.

"We are a legitimate company. We do legal things and deserve social recognition."

Su Ye adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze falling on Wang Hai's deathly pale face.

"You have captured the spirit of our Sihai Group in paying taxes in accordance with the law and adhering to the bottom line very accurately."

Su Ye opened the drawer next to him.

He took out a thick, yellow kraft paper envelope and slid it down the long conference table directly in front of Wang Hai.

"The company has clear rules and regulations, with fair rewards and punishments. These rules are legal and compliant."

Su Ye's voice wasn't loud, but it struck everyone's eardrums.

"Here is a cash check for 500,000. I've already had Director Chen from the finance department withhold your personal income tax. This is your well-deserved public relations bonus."

Wang Hai stared at the brown paper envelope.

His eye twitched violently.

Five hundred thousand. A legal check after taxes.

He was a clerk in the propaganda department of the municipal bureau, receiving a fixed salary, and went undercover for two and a half years.

Not a single criminal lead was found. Instead, they obtained a legitimate sum of 500,000 yuan by publishing a press release praising the underworld.

His hands trembled as he clutched the envelope.

The paper felt rough to the touch, yet it was so hot that his palms sweated.

"Thank you... thank you, Chairman Su."

Wang Hai made an unpleasant sawing sound in his throat.

A very light footstep came from outside the door.

With a creak.

The side door of the conference room was pushed open.

Shen Qinghan walked in carrying a large bouquet of fragrant lilies covered in water droplets.

The flat canvas shoes made no sound when they stepped on the carpet.

A black bodycon skirt hugged her taut legs.

She walked up to Wang Hai.

The strong scent of lilies instantly masked the smell of coffee in the room.

"Vice President Wang, congratulations."

Shen Qinghan's voice was hoarse. She bit her lower lip hard.

The lingering, rusty taste of blood on my tongue hadn't yet dissipated.

Wang Hai looked up and met Shen Qinghan's gaze.

The two undercover agents exchanged a glance in mid-air.

It was all bottomless despair.

"Secretary Shen, are the flowers ready?"

Su Ye picked up the thermos, his fingers long and slender.

"Arrange a car. Vice President Wang needs to go to the city auditorium to receive an award this afternoon. Don't be late."

"It's all arranged. Deputy General Manager Gao Qiang from the security department will drive him there."

Shen Qinghan lowered her eyes, staring at the red mark on Wang Hai's collar.

"The city called and said that this year's 'Provincial Outstanding Youth' medal would be personally awarded by Director Li Jianguo of the Municipal Bureau."

Upon hearing the name "Li Jianguo".

The kraft paper envelope in Wang Hai's hand fell onto the table with a "thud".

He gasped for breath, like a dying fish.

A sudden, sharp pain shot through my stomach, as if I had caught Chen Suan's ailment.

"Go ahead. Take lots of photos. This is also a way to showcase the company's corporate image."

Su Ye didn't look at him again.

I lowered my head and took a sip of goji berry water.

……

Twenty minutes later.

The underground parking garage of Sihai Building.

A brand-new black BMW 7 Series was parked at the entrance of the passageway.

The engine was still running. White mist was spraying out of the exhaust pipe.

Gao Qiang was wearing a yellow safety helmet and work clothes.

Sitting in the driver's seat, gripping the leather steering wheel, his palms were sweaty.

He looked through the rearview mirror at Wang Hai, who had just climbed into the back seat.

Wang Hai was holding a huge bouquet of fragrant lilies in his arms.

I curled up in the large leather seat.

He clutched the 500,000 yuan check tightly in his hand. His hand was shaking so badly that he couldn't even see the security thread on the check.

Shen Qinghan stood outside the car door.

A cold wind blew up the hem of her trench coat.

She held onto the car door frame with one hand, her knuckles turning bluish-white.

"Secretary Shen... Secretary Shen."

Wang Hai peeked out from behind the bouquet, his voice trembling with sobs.

He sniffed a mouthful of clear snot.

"You said... on the awards stage in the city auditorium in a little while."

Wang Hai swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "When Director Li pinned that medal to my chest..."

Shen Qinghan didn't speak, but gritted her teeth.

"What if...what if he just pulls out his sidearm?"

Wang Hai was so anxious that he kept banging his head against the car window, making muffled "bang" sounds.

"In front of the entire city's media, they just blew my head off?"