In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 132, Section 131: A Detailed Explanation of the "Golden Finger" Technique: Taking Revenge on Li Weidong and Biting Back

In late August, the summer heat in Shanghai had not yet subsided.

The cicadas' chirping seemed to be stuck to their wings by the scorching air, their persistent calls tearing at the remaining tranquility of the afternoon and adding to the restlessness.

In the outer room of the deputy factory director's office, Yang Guangming sat upright at the secretary's desk.

The afternoon sun shone obliquely through the dusty glass window onto the "Draft Plan for Raw Cotton Supply of Hongxing Cotton Mill in the Third Quarter" in front of him.

His fingertips steadily traced lines of neat, imitation Song characters, his brows slightly furrowed, his expression focused.

Having been Zhao Guodong's full-time secretary for nearly two months, the initial awkwardness has long since faded, and he now has a firm grasp of the rhythm of this office as clear as the lines on his palm.

Zhao Guodong is decisive and efficient. He meticulously organizes the key points of documents in advance and verifies the data in reports flawlessly. When Zhao Guodong needs to coordinate with all parties, he is the invisible yet resilient thread that silently builds a bridge of communication between them.

This composure and competence far beyond his years made Zhao Guodong rely on him more and more, and gradually the initial scrutinizing, curious and even slightly jealous looks from the factory settled into a silent recognition.

After that dinner with Zhang Weiqiang's group, his relationship with those middle-level cadres became increasingly familiar.

In particular, Lang Tianrui, the head of the Labor and Wages Section.

Those two pounds of life-saving dried sea cucumbers acted like an invisible adhesive, bringing the two closer together to a level of trust and intimacy that transcended ordinary colleagues.

This affection silently seeped into the gaps in our work.

After Zhang Xiuying was transferred to the position of labor and personnel officer in the workshop, due to the special nature of her position, she was subject to the dual leadership of the workshop director and the head of the labor and personnel department.

Lang Tianrui, his immediate superior, showed exceptional care that was meticulous to the extreme.

From the complex rules for calculating wage grades to the mediation of those complicated employee disputes in the workshop, Lang Tianrui always patiently provided guidance, even personally guiding Zhang Xiuying through the procedures.

The whispers and complaints that might have arisen in the workshop because of her lack of seniority vanished quietly like dew in the sunlight, thanks to Section Chief Lang's clear and strong support.

Zhang Xiuying was already diligent and hardworking, and with this "special care," she quickly established herself in her new position. Her demeanor even gradually revealed a sense of composure and authority befitting a "veteran worker in the labor and personnel department."

Tuesday afternoon, with half an hour left before the end of the workday.

Just as Yang Guangming locked a document with the three bold characters "Zhao Guodong" signed inside the filing cabinet, a gentle knock sounded on the half-closed green-painted wooden door to his office.

Lang Tianrui, the head of the Labor and Wages Section, peered in with his lean face and slightly protruding cheekbones, wearing his usual friendly smile that seemed to melt away all barriers.

"Is Director Zhao busy?" he asked in a low voice, with a familiar tone typical of men from Shanghai.

Yang Guangming immediately stood up, a perfectly timed smile appearing on his face, and said swiftly, "We just saw off Old Zhou from the technical department, so there's no one inside right now. Section Chief Lang, would you like to come in and have a seat?"

"I won't sit anymore, it's just a matter of two sentences."

Lang Tianrui waved his hand, slipped in like a nimble eel, and closed the door behind him.

The smile on his face vanished as quickly as the tide, replaced by a solemn expression.

He walked a few steps to the sunlit table, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice to almost a whisper, conveying a sense of urgency to share a secret:
"Xiaoyang, I need to let you know. This morning, the factory's propaganda team received a 'report from the public'."

Yang Guangming's eyes suddenly sharpened, and the "Hero" brand fountain pen he had just picked up hovered in mid-air: "Oh? Report what?"

"They said it was...your factory affairs department and our labor and personnel department..."

Lang Tianrui spoke quickly, but enunciated each word clearly: "Some people are taking public office supplies home for their own use. They are specifically referring to miscellaneous items such as manuscript paper, ink, and carbon paper."

He paused, his shrewd eyes quickly scanning the items on the sunny table, and only continued after seeing that the other person was listening attentively:

"Although it's not a major event that would cause the sky to fall, since someone has reported it, the Workers' Propaganda Team has to investigate according to the rules."

Old Wang—I mean Wang Weidong, the head of the security section, who also serves as the deputy captain of the workers' propaganda team—and who has always had a good relationship with me, knew that this was not a proper thing to do and understood the implications, so he gave me a heads-up beforehand.

The exact time for the investigation hasn't been decided yet, but it'll probably be in the next day or two. He asked me to remind you as well.

Lang Tianrui's gaze fell meaningfully on the thick stack of manuscript paper and ink bottle on the corner of the sunlit table:
"Working overtime to write materials is commonplace for you here. What if... I mean, what if you casually take some paper and ink back to continue working on it? If it gets found out later, even if you're working for the public, you won't be able to explain yourself!"

Being labeled as "blending public and private interests" is never a respectable thing. Making clear distinctions brings peace of mind.

A warm current, mixed with a chilling wariness, surged within Yang Guangming's heart.

Lang Tianrui's risky act of tipping him off was driven by genuine affection and had a very clear purpose—he was afraid that Lang Tianrui, the newly appointed deputy factory director's secretary, might inadvertently run into trouble.

This protection stemmed from the heavy bag of sea cucumbers, but even more so from the increasingly close and tacit alliance between the two.

"Thank you, Section Chief Lang!"

Yang Guangming's tone was sincere, even carrying a hint of the belated realization typical of young people:
"If you hadn't mentioned it, I really wouldn't have thought of that. I do work overtime sometimes, but I've never brought anything home with me."

"But your reminder was just in time! I'll immediately clean out all the drawers and cabinets, tidy everything up, and make sure it's spotless. I won't cause any trouble for the boss, nor will I cause you or Lao Wang any problems!"

He slammed his hand on the table, displaying a decisive and efficient demeanor.

"Ah, that's good! That's good!"

Lang Tianrui visibly breathed a sigh of relief, and a smile returned to his face, like a crumpled piece of paper being smoothed out. "Then I'll be going now. There are still some things to finish up at Corey."

He reached out and patted Yang Guangming's strong forearm twice affectionately, the movement natural and smooth. He turned around, opened the door, and disappeared into the end of the corridor with light steps.

The wooden door closed gently, and the office fell silent once more.

The monotonous chirping of cicadas outside the window suddenly became clear and piercing.

The smile on Yang Guangming's face vanished as quickly as the tide receded. He slowly sat back in the polished wooden chair, leaning back slightly, his index and middle fingers together, the knuckles tapping lightly on the smooth, dark brown tabletop in a rhythmic fashion.

“Report… misuse of office supplies… search…” These cold words swirled in his mind.

Lang Tianrui's well-intentioned reminder was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.

However, the pebble unexpectedly stirred up the humus-scented silt that had accumulated at the bottom of the lake for a long time—

Li Weidong's face, twisted with jealousy, and the "82" decapitation rate report, which had been tampered with beyond recognition and nearly plunged him into an abyss of no return, were clearly visible before my eyes.

That deliberately forgotten anger, like a venomous snake that had been lying dormant for a long time, was awakened by this unexpected "opportunity," and quietly raised its scaly head, its cold tongue silently flicking in and out.

The thought of revenge had never been so clear and intense.

The opportunity seemed to have been presented to him unexpectedly.

Yang Guangming closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

His consciousness seemed to sink into the dark depths of the water, instantly arriving at that strange space that no one else could possibly see—his "refrigerator space".

This golden finger that accompanied his rebirth is his greatest reliance and deepest secret for securing his livelihood and advancing step by step.

He had already thoroughly understood its operating rules, as if studying a precision instrument:

1. Updated daily.

The "native" items stored in fixed locations within the space will refresh precisely at midnight every day.

As long as the location is not occupied by other items, the original item will disappear into thin air at midnight, and then a new, identical item will instantly appear, just like an inexhaustible supply point in the game.

This is the foundation upon which he can reliably acquire certain scarce resources.

2. Moving it solidifies it.

Once he moves a "native" item from its fixed spawn location to another location, the item immediately becomes detached from the spawn rules.

It no longer disappears, nor will it be replaced by new items; it has become something he truly "owns" and can preserve for a long time.

3. Replacement terminates the process.

If he uses items brought in from outside, or items from other places in the refrigerator, to occupy a fixed position that was originally meant to refresh "native" items, then the refresh function for that position will be temporarily suspended.

This location can only be used as a storage slot, and nothing will be refreshed until it is restored to its original state or left empty.

4. Space organization.

In reality, any item, as long as its size does not exceed the refrigerator's capacity and it is touched by any part of his body, can be instantly stored in the refrigerator's space with a thought.

To retrieve an item, simply focus your mind on the target item within the space, and you can place it anywhere within a one-meter radius around yourself.

5. Remote delivery.

He can not only store and retrieve items, but also precisely control the "appearance" position of items in the space with his mind!
As long as the target location is within one meter of his body, regardless of whether the location is enclosed—a locked drawer, a closed bag, or even a sealed tin box—he can make the items in that space appear out of thin air!

It penetrated physical barriers as if by magic.

This gave him the ability to frame others almost without anyone noticing.

This ability is not world-destroying, but the hidden convenience it brings is nothing short of miraculous.

At this moment, with the help of this cheat code, taking revenge on Li Weidong through this "search" would be technically a piece of cake.

All he needs to prepare is a sufficiently "sensitive" and sufficiently lethal "stolen goods"—such as a piece of "negative material" that has been severely criticized and is explicitly prohibited from being circulated or collected.

He carefully stored it in the refrigerator beforehand. Before the search began, or just before the search started, when Li Weidong was caught off guard and under the watchful eyes of everyone, he only needed to get within one meter of Li Weidong and with a slight thought, he could make that potentially fatal "evidence" appear out of thin air in the deepest part of Li Weidong's faded canvas satchel!

The entire process was silent, invisible, and traceless.

The moment that document is found in Li Weidong's bag, the nature of the situation changes completely.

In this era of heightened fear and insecurity, the charge of "possessing negative information" is far more serious than "stealing a few sheets of paper or a few bottles of ink."

It directly targets ideology and stance, and is a serious crime capable of destroying a person's political life and even personal freedom.

At best, they will be dismissed from their public office and have their labor taken away; at worst... the consequences are unimaginable.

Even if Li Weidong had a hundred mouths to defend himself, he couldn't clear his name even if he jumped into the Huangpu River.

This method is indeed extremely ruthless!

Yang Guangming was not unaware of this, and thinking of the serious consequences, the rhythm of his fingertips tapping the table unconsciously became a little heavier.

But he knew Li Weidong's character even better!
Their tampering with the yarn breakage rate data last time was utterly despicable!

That was essentially an attempt to permanently nail him to the pillar of shame for "sabotaging production," ensuring he could never rise again.

If it weren't for Han Mingqian's keen insight, impartial handling of the situation, and consideration for the overall picture, his bright future would probably have been ruined by that glaring "82".

That wasn't a mistake, but a premeditated conspiracy to frame someone!
If this is just a minor incident, such as putting some paper and ink in Li Weidong's bag, at most he will receive a mild criticism and have to write a bland self-criticism. It won't cause any serious harm, but it might alert the enemy.

Given Li Weidong's stubborn, narrow-minded, and vindictive nature, once he suspects someone in the open, even without any evidence, he will inevitably be like a venomous snake lurking in the gutter, watching him intently and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Reports, framing, spreading rumors... all sorts of underhanded tactics are hard to guard against.

Yang Guangming is now in the more sensitive and trouble-prone position of deputy factory director's secretary, and he cannot withstand this kind of continuous sabotage and attrition.

He didn't want to live in constant fear, and he didn't want to burden his mother who had just settled down.

To prevent future troubles, we must strike decisively and fatally!
The goal is to completely deprive Li Weidong of his ability to cause trouble at the Hongxing Factory, and even... make him leave this environment altogether.

He is no longer a real seventeen-year-old boy.

In her previous life, she served as a personal secretary to a wealthy man, witnessing firsthand the cutthroat world of business and the fickle nature of human relationships. She also personally dealt with many troublesome people and matters.

His heart, when necessary, can be tempered to be harder than steel and colder than ice.

Kindness is his fundamental trait, but it is by no means an excuse for being indecisive or letting others take advantage of him.

He felt no guilt whatsoever when it came to retaliating against someone like Li Weidong, who had taken the initiative to harm him, used insidious methods, and sought to kill him.

This is the law of survival!
The only thing that made his fingertips pause slightly and hesitate was the timing.

Less than two months had passed since Li Weidong framed him. Although the storm had subsided, its aftershocks remained, and the memory was still fresh.

If Li Weidong were to suddenly suffer such a major setback at this critical juncture, especially one involving a serious crime related to "ideological issues," it would be inevitable that some astute and perceptive individuals would subtly connect the two events.

Even if no direct evidence is found pointing to Yang Guangming, that vague, lingering "suspicion" will ultimately be a hidden danger in the eyes of Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong or other leaders with ulterior motives, and may affect the trust and diligent and down-to-earth image that he has worked so hard to build.

Sunlight streamed as he leaned back in his chair, the wooden chair creaking softly.

He raised his hand and gently pressed his fingertips against his temples. His eyes were slightly closed, his thick eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath his eyelids. He needed to calmly assess the risks and weigh the pros and cons.

He quickly went through the entire day's schedule in his mind, like watching a movie:
Morning: Arrive at the office 15 minutes early to clean and make tea.

After Zhao Guodong arrived, he organized the documents that needed to be reviewed and gave a concise report on the key points.

At 9:00 AM, I accompanied Factory Director Zhao to inspect the production situation in the fine spinning workshop, focusing on improvement measures for the breakage rate. I talked with the foreman and technicians in the workshop for about half an hour.

Morning: Returned to the office around 10:00 AM to handle routine document processing. No visitors came during this time.

Lunch: 11:30 AM, lunch was served in the small canteen reserved for cadres. At the same table were Zhao Guodong, a deputy director from the factory office, and the chairman of the labor union. The conversation revolved around the upcoming National Day welfare arrangements; the atmosphere was casual.

Afternoon: Work started at 1 p.m. First, an engineer surnamed Liu from the technical department brought over an equipment update report, and we talked for about fifteen minutes.

Next, the deputy head of the purchasing department came to discuss the details of the next quarter's raw cotton purchases, and the discussion lasted about twenty minutes.

After 2:30, I worked on documents in the office until Lang Tianrui came to visit.

His connection with Li Weidong: Zero!

He didn't set foot in the large office downstairs where the factory affairs office secretariat was located all day!

He and Li Weidong didn't even meet today, let alone have any verbal or physical contact!

This detail is crucial!

It was like a divinely bestowed "talisman," and Yang Guangming's tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxed.

If anyone later suspects that Li Weidong's incident was related to him, they will instinctively wonder: Did Yang Guangming have the opportunity and time to "commit the crime"?
The fact that "there was no contact throughout the day" is the most irrefutable "alibi".

It acts like an invisible wall, keeping out any possible suspicion.

Who would have thought that he possessed such a physics-defying ability to throw objects from a distance? This is beyond the realm of ordinary people's imagination.

Risks are manageable, opportunities are rare, and goals are clear.

Yang Guangming slowly opened his eyes, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes completely gone, leaving only a deep sea-like calm and an almost ruthless decisiveness.

The familiar, focused, machine-like state he had when dealing with similar thorny problems in his past life returned to him.

Every step is clearly laid out in my mind, and there are contingency plans for every possible unexpected event.

He decided.

Shot!

Since we've taken action, we must leave no room for future trouble. That "negative information," which could ruin Li Weidong forever, is the best "gift."

Preparing such a "stolen item" is no easy task in a hurry.

It needs to be "sensitive" enough to attract the attention and severe punishment of the Workers' Propaganda Team, but it cannot be too outrageous and appear to be a deliberate frame-up.

Fortunately, there is still time. There is still half an hour before the end of the workday. If the search is carried out today, there will be plenty of time to prepare.

Relying on his memories from his past life and his understanding of the taboos of this era, Yang Guangming carefully selected and combined materials, finally preparing a "suitable" document before leaving get off work.

However, things did not happen as quickly as expected.

The following Wednesday and Thursday, everything in the factory area was as usual.

The machines continued to hum, and people moved about incessantly. Rumors about "whistleblowing" and "searches" seemed to circulate secretly only between Lang Tianrui and Yang Guangming, without spreading even a ripple.

Yang Guangming worked as usual, looking calm and composed, even appearing more composed and capable in front of Zhao Guodong.

He used the past two days to re-examine the document, making more detailed adjustments and disguises to ensure that its "timing" and "state" of appearance were more consistent with the characteristics of "unintentional concealment".

This poisoned dagger was carefully moved to an inconspicuous corner of the refrigerator, patiently lying dormant, waiting for the best moment to be drawn.

It was Friday afternoon, fifteen minutes before the workday ended.

The golden rays of the setting sun slanted through the dusty glass windows and onto the terrazzo floor of the office, illuminating every speck of dust in the air and giving the room a warm, twilight-like hue.

Just as Yang Guangming locked a signed document, "Arrangement for Equipment Maintenance in the Fine Spinning Workshop," into the filing cabinet, the old-fashioned black rotary dial telephone on the desk suddenly rang urgently, breaking the silence of the office.

He picked up the receiver and said calmly, "Hello, this is the deputy factory director's office."

"Xiaoyang, this is Zhang Yuqin from the factory office." Zhang Jie's usual warm tone came from the other end of the phone.

"Sister Zhang, it's me."

"Just to let you know, all staff in the Labor and Wages Department, as well as all colleagues in our Factory Affairs Office, including you, will be leaving about 15 minutes later."

The meeting isn't over yet. There might be work to be assigned after it ends, so please cooperate and wait for further notice before leaving. Thank you for your hard work!

"Okay, Sister Zhang. Received." Yang Guangming replied calmly and hung up the phone. The receiver clicked softly as it was put down, but it was exceptionally clear to his ears.

Sure enough, it came.

Moreover, they chose to announce that "we will be leaving get off work 15 minutes late" near the end of the workday, when people were feeling uneasy, citing "there may be work to be arranged."

This had the feel of a surprise inspection, yet it seemed incomplete, leaving room for maneuver.

A perceptive person, or a seasoned veteran who has been working in the factory office for many years, would probably be able to guess seven or eight parts of the situation in the blink of an eye upon receiving the notification—it's more like a signal that allows them to prepare in advance and hide anything that shouldn't be there.

It seems that the Workers' Propaganda Team didn't take the report of "misuse of office supplies" seriously. It was more of a formality to deal with "public supervision" and avoid giving others grounds for criticism.

Yang Guangming tidied up his desk without making a sound.

Carefully insert the "Hero" brand fountain pen back into the enamel pen holder printed with a red star, and neatly arrange the scattered manuscript papers according to page number, aligning the edges.

He got up and walked to the window, pushed it open halfway, and the hot wind, carrying the clearer roar of the machines, rushed in.

Downstairs, on the main road of the factory area, the flow of people leaving get off work was like a flood, noisy and jostling bicycles, surging towards the factory gate like a tide.

Blue-gray work clothes and grass-green military uniforms merged into a flowing ocean.

Soon, the clamor subsided, and the factory area became empty and quiet, with only the monotonous clanging of the workshops in the distance stubbornly echoing, making the waiting time seem exceptionally long.

A quarter of an hour passed in silent waiting.

Yang Guangming sat in a chair, eyes closed, breathing evenly. But his heart was like the sea before a storm, seemingly calm, yet turbulent beneath.

The presence of that document in the refrigerator compartment has never felt so strong.

Finally, the sound of hurried footsteps and deliberately hushed voices came from the corridor, growing louder as they approached.

Zhang Yuqin's highly recognizable voice rang out from outside the door, carrying a perfunctory tone:

"Attention, colleagues in the Factory Affairs Office and Labor and Wages Department! The leadership meeting is over. There are no new work assignments. You may now leave work as usual!"

Yang Guangming opened his eyes and picked up his slightly worn dark blue canvas satchel, which contained only a work notebook and a spare "Eternal Life" fountain pen.

He opened the door, and there were already quite a few people standing in the corridor.

In the factory affairs office, Li Weidong, wearing a faded blue work uniform, his greasy hair plastered to his forehead, and carrying his signature canvas shoulder bag with worn edges, was whispering something to a young clerk from the labor and personnel department next to him.

On the labor and personnel section side, Lang Tianrui stood at the front, followed by several staff members.

Lang Tianrui's gaze inadvertently met Yang Guangming's, and he nodded slightly, his eyes carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible meaning.

The crowd began to move toward the stairwell, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Yang Guangming naturally blended into the crowd and greeted Zhou Bingsheng and Zhang Yuqin familiarly: "Master Zhou, Sister Zhang, see you tomorrow."

At the same time, he subtly adjusted his pace and position, his gaze like a precise radar, firmly locking onto the figure ahead carrying an old bag—Li Weidong.

Go down from the third floor to the second floor. The stairs aren't wide, and it was a bit crowded.

Yang Guangming deliberately lagged behind by half a step, letting Zhang Yuqin pass, and then cleverly used a woman from the labor and personnel department as cover to quickly slip to the side and forward, instantly getting close to Li Weidong's back, with the distance between the two less than half a meter.

He could even smell the faint smell of engine oil emanating from Li Weidong's work clothes.

It's now!

Yang Guangming's heartbeat seemed to stop at that moment.

His face remained calm, even showing a hint of ease as he left work, casually exchanging pleasantries with the person next to him.

But the mind, like the most precise probe, instantly sank into the refrigerator space and locked onto the "document" that was folded into a small square with its edges deliberately crumpled to show signs of frequent handling.

Without hesitation or doubt, his mind locked onto the innermost part of Li Weidong's bag in the blink of an eye!

Silent and still, without light or shadow.

Those few thin pages, yet weighing over a thousand pounds, appeared out of thin air at the very bottom of Li Weidong's old canvas satchel, as if gently placed by an invisible hand.

The entire process was so smooth that not even a ripple could be heard in the air.

Li Weidong was completely unaware.

He was tilting his head, spitting as he complained to someone next to him that a certain group leader in the workshop "didn't understand the situation," completely unaware that his fate was about to be completely rewritten behind him.

Yang Guangming kept his pace unchanged, naturally shifting half a body length away from Li Weidong, as if he had only casually adjusted his walking route.

He even nodded and smiled at another acquaintance next to him, appearing completely at ease.

No one noticed the instantaneous closeness, and no one knew that a fatal blow had been delivered beneath the calm surface.

Only he felt a chilling pleasure rising quietly from his spine, instantly spreading throughout his body, only to be suppressed by an even deeper calm.

The crowd reached the first-floor stairwell and was about to disperse.

Just then, a series of hurried and forceful footsteps came from outside the office building.

Wang Weidong, the head of the security section and deputy captain of the workers' propaganda team, appeared at the corner of the stairs with two workers' propaganda team members wearing faded old military uniforms and red armbands. They looked serious.

Wang Weidong was tall and burly, with a square face and sharp, eagle-like eyes. The moment he appeared, the noisy chatter of people leaving get off work instantly subsided.

"Comrades from the Factory Affairs Office and the Labor and Wages Department, please wait a moment!" Wang Weidong's loud voice, carrying an unquestionable authority, echoed in the stairwell.

Everyone stopped in their tracks, a sense of doubt, confusion, and a fleeting tension in the eyes of a few people spreading through the crowd.

The complaint on Li Weidong's face froze instantly, replaced by a look of bewilderment and instinctive timidity.

Wang Weidong scanned the entire room and announced loudly: "We have received reports from the public that some staff members in the Factory Affairs Department and the Labor and Wages Department have misappropriated public office supplies without authorization."

In order to protect collective property and maintain a positive work environment, the factory's propaganda team has decided to conduct a routine inspection of the personal belongings of all personnel in these two departments. Your cooperation is appreciated!

As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd erupted in an uproar!
The workers' propaganda team was very powerful. At this moment, they really went all out and blocked the stairwell for a surprise inspection, catching many people off guard.

Complaints and whispers arose in a buzz:
"What's going on? It's almost time to leave work!"

"Exactly, is it worth it for just a few sheets of paper and a few bottles of ink?"

"If you've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear! Let them investigate!"

Lang Tianrui immediately stepped forward to smooth things over: "Section Chief Wang is just carrying out a mission. Let's all cooperate! If you're upright, you have nothing to fear. It's all clear-cut. A simple investigation will reveal the truth! Don't interfere with Section Chief Wang's work!"

As he spoke, he winked at the people in his labor and personnel department.

Wang Weidong, expressionless, directed, "Please split into two teams: one for the Labor and Wages Department and one for the Factory Affairs Office. This way, the inspection will be faster."

The comrades from the Labor and Wages Department will have Xiao Wang in charge of the inspection.

"Factory office staff, I will personally oversee the inspection. Please place all your bags and handbags on the ground and open them for inspection! Hurry up!"

Once an order is given, even if someone is unwilling, they have no choice but to obey.

Zhou Bingsheng sighed helplessly and took off his black faux leather briefcase, which he had used for many years.

Zhang Yuqin pursed her lips and placed her floral handbag at her feet.

Li Weidong's face was a little pale, his eyes darted around, and he hesitated for a moment before slowly and reluctantly taking his old canvas bag off his shoulder and placing it on the cement ground. His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled on the zipper.

Yang Guangming appeared calm and composed, his movements fluid and natural.

He was the first to place his dark blue canvas satchel on the ground, unzipped it, and showed the notebook and pen inside: "Captain Wang, these are all, for work purposes." His voice was calm, and his eyes were clear.

Wang Weidong glanced at him, nodded, and then turned his gaze to the others.

The inspection proceeded quickly.

Zhou Bingsheng's briefcase contained only documents, reading glasses, and medicine bottles.

Zhang Yuqin's cloth bag contained balls of yarn, a lunchbox, and a copy of "Selected Works".

When it was Li Weidong's turn, fine beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead, and he was zipping up the zipper with difficulty.

Wang Weidong personally squatted down, his sharp eyes fixed on his hands.

The canvas bag was opened.

The contents were a jumble: half a scallion pancake wrapped in oil paper, a crumpled cigarette box, matches, a Little Red Book with curled edges, a thick stack of office paper... Wang Weidong took them out one by one, his movements swift and efficient.

Li Weidong nervously swallowed, his eyes fixed on the contents of the bag. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, especially when he took out the thick stack of office paper.

Wang Weidong didn't stop moving. He reached his hand to the bottom of the bag, and then suddenly stopped!
The seriousness on his face was instantly replaced by solemnity.

He carefully used two fingers to pick out a neatly folded but obviously worn square of paper that looked suspicious.

Everyone's eyes immediately focused on that square of paper!
The air seemed to freeze.

The anxiety on Li Weidong's face instantly turned into extreme terror. He opened his mouth wide and made a "hoarse" sound in his throat, like a fish out of water.

Wang Weidong did not open it immediately. Instead, he held the paper square in his hand, his gaze shooting like lightning at the pale-faced Li Weidong. His voice was terrifyingly low: "Comrade Li Weidong, what is this?"

"I...I don't know! It's not mine! It really isn't mine!"

Li Weidong jumped up as if he had been scalded, his voice shrill and distorted, choked with sobs, and incoherent, "Someone's framed me! Someone must have framed me! Captain Wang! You have to believe me! I..."

"Whether it's yours or not, you'll know once you see it!" Wang Weidong interrupted his hysterical defense, his expression cold and stern, carrying the chilling air of someone carrying out an important mission.

He stood up straight and, under the watchful eyes of everyone, slowly and solemnly opened the paper cube.

Several yellowed pages unfolded, covered with densely printed traditional Chinese characters.

The paper was old, and the layout clearly bore the marks of an outdated era. Although the title was deliberately folded to cover most of it, the few glaring words that were exposed, along with the blurry yet still recognizable illustration next to it, ignited the scene like a drop of boiling oil!

"Reverse flyer!"

"It's something from the other side!"

"Oh my god! Li Weidong, he..."

Exclamations and gasps of surprise filled the air!
Lang Tianrui's expression changed drastically. He subconsciously looked at Yang Guangming, his eyes filled with shock and lingering fear—this was completely beyond the scope of "office supplies" he had expected!
Yang Guangming stood a little behind the crowd, his face also filled with shock and disbelief. His brows were furrowed, and he looked at Li Weidong, who was slumped on the ground and trembling all over, with a complicated expression. He seemed to be stunned by this sudden "discovery" as well.

Wang Weidong's face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water.

He quickly glanced at the contents and shouted sternly, "Li Weidong! What else do you have to say? Possessing and disseminating negative information! How dare you! Take him away!"

Two fierce-looking propaganda team members immediately stepped forward, one on each side, and lifted up Li Weidong, who was completely limp and in tears.

"It wasn't me! This isn't mine! I've been framed! Someone must have framed me..."

Li Weidong struggled, his desperate and resentful gaze sweeping across the crowd, trying to find the suspect who framed him.

His gaze finally settled on Yang Guangming. "Yang Guangming, did you frame me?"

Yang Guangming remained calm, but his face revealed a mixture of anger at being falsely accused and a perfectly measured hint of heartache. He stepped forward and retorted in a low but clear voice:
"Comrade Li Weidong! Don't make false accusations!"
I spent the entire day upstairs handling the tasks assigned by Factory Director Zhao, and I didn't even step into the Factory Affairs Office! Everyone can testify to that!

You've made a serious mistake and your own thinking is flawed, and you're trying to drag others down with you? Do you think you've lived up to the organization's expectations of you?

He then added, "I didn't go to your office today, and I didn't have any contact with you yesterday or the day before either. Even if you want to frame me, you can't implicate me."

His words were clear, logical, and forceful.

Zhou Bingsheng, Zhang Yuqin, and others standing nearby nodded in agreement, subconsciously testifying for Yang Guangming:
"Yes, Xiao Yang hasn't come down today, and he didn't come to our office yesterday or the day before either."

“I remember Xiao Yang hasn’t been to our office for several days.”

"You can't just talk nonsense about things like this!"

Wang Weidong's sharp gaze lingered for a moment on Yang Guangming's open and honest face, then swept over the crowd who had testified for him, finally returning to the seemingly insane Li Weidong. With a disgusted wave of his hand, he said, "Take him away! Lock him up! Interrogate him thoroughly!"

Li Weidong only felt that Yang Guangming was a suspect, but he was not sure. He remembered that he had just checked his bag shortly before leaving get off work, and immediately ruled out Yang Guangming as a suspect.

His gaze fixed on Zhang Yuqin again, and he questioned her with resentment and venom:

"Zhang Yuqin! It was you! You must have framed me! I never imagined you were so vicious. We only had a small argument, and you tried to kill me! You're so wicked! So vicious! You deserve to die a horrible death!"

Zhang Yuqin was so angry that her face turned pale. "You're making baseless accusations! We only had a small conflict, not even a big one. Why would I be so bored as to frame you?"

Li Weidong's desperate cries and struggles gradually disappeared down the stairs as the two workers' propaganda team members dragged him away, leaving only a deathly silence and the shock, fear, and whispers that filled the air.

Yang Guangming silently bent down, picked up his canvas satchel, and patted off the dust.

His expression was solemn as his gaze swept over the terrified faces around him, finally meeting briefly with Lang Tianrui's complex eyes.

Lang Tianrui's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just sighed heavily, shook his head, and silently left with the people from the Labor and Personnel Department.

The sun sank completely below the horizon, leaving only a last sliver of dark red on the horizon.

Yang Guangming pushed his old "Forever" bicycle and walked slowly out of the gate of the Hongxing Cotton Mill.

The bicycle chain made a regular "click-clack" sound, which was particularly clear on the empty street.

His face showed no joy of victory, only a deep, calm sea.

The evening breeze ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead, bringing a touch of coolness.

Li Weidong's desperate and resentful roar still seemed to echo in my ears, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of wheels rolling over the road.

He didn't look back at the vast factory area shrouded in twilight.

Today's strike was clean and swift, severing the poisonous thorns behind him.

As for how the poisonous stinger would ultimately be dealt with—whether it would be removed or crushed—that was no longer of concern to him.

All he knew was that the Red Star Factory had lost one of the hidden dangers who always wanted to kill him.

(End of this chapter)