Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

Zhang Qiliang stood quietly to the side, patiently waiting for Gao Dachang to finish speaking, which took nearly five minutes, before he finally explained the necessary information.

Then, Zhang Qiliang raised his hand again and gently stroked Gao Dachang's forehead from a distance.

Gao Dachang fell asleep in a second.

After opening the workshop and factory gates, Zhang Qiliang determined the direction and headed towards the next lucky person.

--------

The second lucky winner is Yong'an Labor Service Division.

There's nothing else to it, this company is relatively close to the LQ Industrial Park.

At the unit, Zhang Qiliang spent some time finding the complaint and reporting reception window and the home address of the person in charge.

When Tang Jiaping woke up, her first feeling was that it was cool.

The damp night wind swept through her pajamas without any obstruction, raising goosebumps all over her body.

Next came a sense of security—not the softness of a mattress beneath me, but the solid concrete floor.

The surroundings were eerily empty. There were no familiar walls or furniture in sight, only the hazy, sleeping city lights in the distance, and the deep purple night sky above, seemingly within reach, studded with starlight.

She jolted awake, the lingering sleepiness dispelled by the sudden surge of fear.

There was a figure standing opposite.

"Who are you?" Tang Jiaping instinctively hugged her arms tightly, trying to gain some meager warmth and a sense of security.

She finally realized that she was standing on an open-air cement platform, about twenty or thirty square meters in size.

The platform is edged by waist-high concrete railings, and beyond those railings... there is a dizzying drop.

This is the rooftop terrace.

A night breeze blew by, making her long hair disheveled. Tang Jiaping shivered slightly, partly from the cold and partly from fright.

“Ordinary people,” the figure spoke, a young voice.

"What...what do you want to do?!" Tang Jiaping's voice was shrill and distorted, filled with uncontrollable terror.

She stared wide-eyed, struggling to make out the figure in front of her, its back to the city lights, in the dim light.

Compared to Wang Dachang's slickness, she, a window staff member who took the civil service exam right after graduation, had never experienced being dragged directly from her bed to the rooftop.

She didn't collapse and lose control of her bladder on the spot, which means she didn't drink too much that night!

"Where...where is this?! Let me down! I'm warning you, this is illegal detention! Kidnapping!" Tang Jiaping shouted, trying to intimidate the other party with the rules she was familiar with, even though she herself didn't believe that this approach would work at this moment.

"Your rooftop." The other person seemed too lazy for pleasantries and cut straight to the point. "Last Wednesday afternoon, you received a young man named Wang Hai who complained about Yongfa Precision Parts Factory in the LQ Industrial Park of Ya City for withholding wages and illegally dismissing employees. Do you remember?"

Wang Hai?

With so many people she receives every day, how could Tang Jiaping possibly remember them all?

The other person considerately turned on their phone and unfolded a screen.

Tang Jiaping suddenly remembered: this vagrant had come here several times.

"I...I remember, what is your relationship with Wang Hai? I'm warning you, what you're doing is illegal...and moreover! What you're doing does absolutely nothing to protect your rights!"

"How can we ensure that it has a positive effect?"

"Of course, we should protect our rights according to the law!"

"So, he came to find you... Um, may I ask, what did you do after Wang Hai contacted you?"

"I...I..." Tang Jiaping was speechless.

Do you remember Zhao Dezhu from the Labor Service Bureau of Y City, the provincial capital? When Zhang Qiliang tracked him down online, Zhao Dezhu was busy writing his work summary for the first half of the year—all government offices are one family, and the Labor Service Bureau of Y City is no exception. Tang Jiaping had also been busy with paperwork for the past two weeks, so she had no time to worry about the cats and dogs that came to her door.

"Okay, let's lower the difficulty a bit... What specific issue did Wang Hai bring up when he contacted you?"

"...I..." Tang Jiaping was even more speechless. Who has the mind to remember so many trivial matters about cats and dogs!

Of course, Tang Jiaping did have a bit of quick wit to get into the government-affiliated institution: "...I will find out the specifics as soon as possible, and I will let you know in a few days, no, tomorrow."

According to Wang Hai, Tang Jiaping spoke very quickly—how could she not? These were all clichés she had used for several years, and every colleague in the Labor Service Department knew them by heart.

"Okay," the opportunity has been given, or rather, the process has been completed.

Zhang Qiliang smiled and said, "Tell me, over the years in this position of 'complaint and report reception,' what illegal, corrupt, bribery, dereliction of duty, and illegal acts have you committed?"

At the same moment, a mobile phone was placed on the edge of the railing, and the red dot of the camera was pointed at Tang Jiaping.

……

Fifteen minutes later.

Tang Jiaping's entire body looked as if it had just been pulled out of the water. The concrete floor beneath her body had saturated into the shape of a human figure, and the tip of her right little finger had become flattened.

“Tsk tsk tsk… tipping off the companies involved, deliberately creating obstacles and delaying time for complainants, arranging for relatives to open tobacco and liquor stores, and implying that clients should sign long-term contracts…” Zhang Qiliang put away his phone and sighed, “Not a high-ranking position, but quite audacious.”

Tang Jiaping had clearly lost the strength to answer.

"Judging from your expression, you probably aren't in the mood to find out how many years you should have been in jail..."

“One year, one year, one year and five months…” Zhang Qiliang, being a good person to the end, directly helped with the estimate: “Considering the combined crimes… well, and your positive attitude just now, it should be about two years and eight months.”

“A sentence of less than three years is considered a minor offense,” Zhang Qiliang’s voice gradually became more magnanimous: “Consider yourself lucky.”

After saying that, Zhang Qiliang raised his right hand and gently stroked Tang Jiaping's forehead.

……

...Two minutes later.

Like mist merging into the night, Zhang Qiliang's figure disappeared silently at the stairwell.

All that remained on the rooftop was the slightly salty smell of blood and sweat carried by the night wind, and Tang Jiaping, slumped on the ground, her consciousness blurred.

About fifteen minutes later, the cool night breeze continued to blow, finally allowing Tang Jiaping to barely regain control of her body from the excruciating pain and shock she was in while in a semi-conscious state.

She struggled, using her still-functioning left hand and knee to slowly lift herself off the concrete floor.

A piercing pain shot through her right little finger, and a strong dizziness made her feel nauseous.

Her thin pajamas were completely soaked with cold sweat and clung tightly to her skin. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and she staggered toward the emergency exit leading downstairs.

Every step he took was weak and feeble, as if he would collapse at any moment.

In the dimly lit stairwell, only her heavy breathing and dragging footsteps echoed.

The floors that could normally be walked in just a few steps now seemed endless.

Finally, she recognized her own familiar security door.

Where are the keys? She fumbled in her pajama pockets in confusion—empty.

The door was locked, and she almost burst into tears.

Finally, she could only extend her trembling left hand and, with all her might, pound on the heavy door panel again and again.

"Open the door... Mom... Open the door..." The voice was choked with sobs.

A few minutes later, there was a rustling sound from inside the door, followed by a wary question, and then the sound of the door lock turning.

The door opened a crack, revealing the mother's sleepy eyes, which instantly turned to horror.

"Jiaping?! You... what happened to you?! Who did this to you?!"

Tang Jiaping was too weak to explain. She practically crashed into the door and collapsed onto the entryway mat.

She struggled to point inside: "Telephone... Report to the authorities... Report to the authorities quickly!"

The mother hurriedly reached for her phone.

Tang Jiaping braced herself against the wall with her left hand and staggered toward the bathroom.

She needed to treat her wounds and wanted to know why her head hurt so much and why she felt so nauseous.

She was driven by intense pain and a sense of foreboding.

"Snapped!"

She struggled to turn on the bathroom ceiling light by bumping it with her left elbow.

In an instant, LED lights filled the small space.

Tang Jiaping subconsciously raised her head and looked at the clean mirror above the washbasin.

Then, she froze completely.

Is that person in the mirror... her?

The face still vaguely resembled the outline of "Tang Jiaping," but it seemed as if an invisible hand had drained too much moisture and vitality from it during that hellish half hour.

Her once smooth and full cheeks were now sunken, her cheekbones were prominent, and her skin had a dull grayish-yellow color.

Fine, deep lines spread across the corners of his eyes and mouth, outlining cracked marks.

The most terrifying thing is the eyes.

Her eyes, which were once bright, were now sunken, her eyelids drooping loosely, her pupils were unfocused and lifeless, covered with terrible red blood vessels, and her dark circles were so heavy they looked like bruises, extending all the way to her cheekbones.

His lips had lost their color, were dry and cracked, and were slightly parted, trembling uncontrollably.

Her hair—her once proud and well-maintained long hair—was so dry and frizzy under the glaring lights, having lost most of its luster, and even… at the roots and temples, one could vaguely see a few glaring strands of gray that shouldn’t belong to her age!

Just a few hours ago, the woman in the mirror was a tired but still relatively young female office worker.

Now, the woman reflected in the mirror looks like a stranger who has endured years of hardship, is exhausted, and has suddenly aged by at least three to five years.

Tang Jiaping stared blankly at herself in the mirror, her left hand still resting on the cold washbasin for support, while the injured fingers of her right hand twitched unconsciously.

The extreme fear had long surpassed the physical pain, turning into icy water that filled her limbs and bones.

She opened her mouth, and the old, haggard woman in the mirror made the same mouth shape.

42 Sword Intent

The second stop was the neighborhood relief center.

Twenty minutes later, He Yinbiao also stood on his own rooftop.

“Wang Hai… Wang Hai…” He Yinbiao repeated the name blankly, his mind racing with fear, but he couldn’t find the corresponding target.

As usual, Zhang Qiliang took out his phone to show it off.

"This is... um... it seems... there was a young man like this who came here?" After staring for a full half minute, He Yinbiao finally dredged up a vague impression from the corner of his memory: "He said he worked in a factory in an industrial park in the west, I don't remember which one, but he didn't get paid and was kicked out..."

At this point, He Yinbiao looked up, his face full of helplessness: "This...this comrade, you may not be familiar with our grassroots work. We are the 'Neighborhood Labor Relief Office,' and our main function is to mediate disputes between residents in our community, such as leaky roofs, neighborly quarrels, and marital conflicts. Helping migrant workers recover their wages...this...this is definitely not under our direct jurisdiction; it should fall under the 'Labor Dispatch and Dispatch Office' or..."

"Snapped!"

A dark shadow struck He Yinbiao precisely in the face, then slid down to his feet.

He Yinbiao lowered his head and saw a simply bound booklet.

Zhang Qiliang raised his chin, and He Yinbiao quickly picked up the booklet.

Oh, this is a "Work Practice Manual for Neighborhood Labor Relief Offices".

Strictly speaking, it's only half a book.

The manual was roughly torn in the middle, and the last page on the back was exactly the last section of "Chapter Four: Guide to Mediation of Common Disputes".

Under the item "Other possible mediation situations," a line of bold, printed text remained clearly legible even in the dim rooftop light:

"...This also includes, but is not limited to: initial contact, emotional support, preliminary inquiry, and guidance to relevant authorities for handling non-major disputes between workers (including those without local household registration) and their employers regarding wage payments, working conditions, etc. Core principle: Prevent escalation of conflicts and strengthen the first line of defense at the grassroots level."

He Yinbiao stared at the line of words, his lips trembling, his face turning from white to red and then to green.

"This...this..." As if his throat was being choked, He Yinbiao couldn't utter a coherent sentence for a long time.

I'll fucking kill you! What kind of bastard is this, making up all sorts of nonsense just to boost his political achievements?!

He certainly had the manual, but it had long been gathering dust in a corner of his office. How could he possibly remember all the clauses and rules inside so clearly? Let alone actually implement them?

His mind raced, and after a while, He Yinbiao finally found another angle: "Comrade, you...you don't know the difficulties we grassroots workers face! How many people are there in our station? We have to manage several neighborhoods. If Zhang's cat catches Li's bird, they'll come knocking! Just dealing with these trivial matters is already exhausting!"

"For complex matters like this that involve external factories and clearly require cross-departmental coordination, we have neither law enforcement power nor coercive force. Even if we wanted to help, we are powerless to do so! At most... at most we can do some basic work, appease them, and prevent anything from happening on the spot..."

“Okay,” Zhang Qiliang nodded understandingly, “So what ‘most basic work’ did you do?”

What have you done?

He Yinbiao choked.