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

Chapter 152, Section 151: Suspend work, support and obstruction, refuse to explain, success or failure hinges on this!
The area outside the office building was completely silent.

The gray sky pressed heavily overhead, blending seamlessly with the black smoke billowing from the towering chimneys in the distance.

Standing in front of the building, Yang Guangming felt that the familiar four-story red brick building in front of him now resembled a silent behemoth.

Inside, the factory leaders' meeting was clearly still ongoing.

He took a deep breath of the cold air; a pungent, burnt smell mixed with dampness rushed into his lungs, making his throat itch.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and he touched the heavy brown paper ledger in his arms once more.

The key to breaking the deadlock is in my hand, but I can't find the keyhole; all my fingertips touch is the rough, cold paper.

We cannot barge in.

He forced himself to calm down, digging his nails into his palm to suppress his turbulent emotions with the slight sting. He turned and strode quickly toward his office.

He pushed open the door, and a familiar scent wafted towards him. He gently closed the door behind him, the wooden door creaking softly, breaking the suffocating silence in the corridor.

He didn't turn on the light; instead, he walked to his desk by the window and sat down, relying on the dim light streaming in from outside.

He carefully placed the thick ledger on the table, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rough kraft paper cover, feeling its coarse texture. The cold touch traveled along his fingertips, calming his chaotic thoughts slightly.

We need to go through this again.

He closed his eyes, and the fragments in his mind began to spin and piece together rapidly.

All his guesses seem logically sound, but where is the evidence?

Besides this ledger that records the actual inventory—which precisely proves that the accounts themselves are not problematic.

He had no direct evidence to prove that Kuang Juncai stole the cloth, nor any physical evidence to suggest that the fire was started by someone.

What if Director Dou's people had cleared away the crucial ashes at the fire scene first?

What if, during the interrogation by the security department, Kuang Juncai, relying on his brother-in-law's influence, stubbornly denies everything?
With the existing detection methods, without further conclusive evidence, the conclusion of "aging wires and short circuit" will remain like a heavy, cold millstone, pressing down on Zhao Guodong's head and crushing his promising future, which has just begun and is fraught with uncertainty.

Time, every minute and every second, is fleeting, and each moment could be an opportunity for the other party to erase traces and weave lies. He could almost hear the rustling sound of sand rapidly slipping through the invisible hourglass.

He leaned back in his chair, the old wooden chair groaning under its weight.

I closed my eyes, trying to painstakingly recreate in my mind the possible layout of Warehouse No. 6, the way the fabrics were stacked, and the scale of the fire that was quickly extinguished...

253 bolts of fine cloth—how tall and huge would that be if piled up? What kind of towering flames would it burn? Half an hour? Could it really be extinguished so cleanly and efficiently, without the fire spreading even a little? This is illogical, utterly illogical!
Dude, dunk, dunk.

The distinct sound of footsteps approached from afar, sounding particularly abrupt and heavy in the empty and quiet corridor.

Yang Guangming suddenly opened his eyes.

There were still nearly twenty minutes before work started, and all the offices were empty. Those footsteps… were steady and powerful, with a familiar rhythm. His heart tightened, and he abruptly stood up.

The door was pushed open.

Zhao Guodong's tall figure appeared at the door, bringing with him a chill from the outside air.

His brows were furrowed, forming a deep "川" (river) character, as if etched on his forehead.

His face betrayed his exhaustion; his eyes were sunken and bloodshot.

The soldier's usually strong back showed a hint of collapse, as if it had been bent over overnight by an invisible burden.

He closed the door behind him, the dull thud echoing in the small space. Seeing Yang Guangming standing behind the table, he visibly paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his bloodshot eyes.

"Xiao Yang." His voice, thick with a northern accent, was hoarse and dry, revealing a deep weariness and surprise. "Why are you here so early today?" He took off his faded gray polyester jacket, worn smooth at the shoulders, and casually draped it over the back of the chair, the movement conveying a heavy sense of powerlessness.

Yang Guangming didn't beat around the bush and asked directly, his voice tense without him even realizing it: "Factory Manager, how did the meeting go?"

Zhao Guodong sat heavily back in his rattan chair, which immediately creaked and groaned under the weight.

He wiped his face, his rough hands rubbing the stiff stubble on his chin, making a rustling sound.

His fingers tapped unconsciously on the smooth tabletop, producing a dull, monotonous tapping sound that made one's heart race.

"What else can we do?" His voice was low, as if a thousand-pound boulder was pressing down on him, carrying a deep sense of powerlessness and the weariness of being hunted. "Before the meeting, Dou Honglang had basically set the tone. The cause of the fire was aging wires and a short circuit. It's a done deal."

He paused, looked up at Yang Guangming, and saw a flicker of resentment in his eyes, but more than that, a deep sense of frustration and defeat.

"I am the direct supervisor in charge of equipment modification and safe production. I cannot shirk the responsibility that is mine." He said the last few words almost through gritted teeth.

"Then..." Yang Guangming's heart sank, as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

"Old Tian."

When Zhao Guodong mentioned Secretary Tian, ​​his tone became more complicated, carrying a hint of gratitude and more helplessness, "He stood his ground at the meeting and even slammed his fist on the table."

They said the matter hadn't been fully investigated and conclusions couldn't be drawn easily. Their attitude was very firm.

This has temporarily thwarted Dou Honglang and his group's attempt to take the opportunity to label me with even more accusations and completely destroy my reputation.

He gave a bitter smile, a smile more painful than a grimace, the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth as deep as if etched by a knife. "However, the fire is a real accident, and the losses are there for all to see. As the deputy factory director, I've been suspended from work. I'm waiting... for the so-called final investigation results."

He spoke the words "suspend work" with unusual slowness and heaviness, each word sounding as if it were icy.

A surge of intense relief welled up in Yang Guangming's heart, like seeing a glimmer of light in a desperate situation, but the chill that followed was even more intense, instantly permeating his entire body.

Fortunately, Secretary Tian did indeed take action. Zhao Guodong was not alone; there was still a force in the factory that was resisting Dou Honglang.

The chill lies in the fact that "work has been suspended"!
This means that Zhao Guodong has now lost the power to directly command the investigation and mobilize resources! He has become someone who has been temporarily "suspended"!
Without Secretary Tian as a secret ally, even if he had obtained the ledgers and guessed the heinous truth, how could a suspended deputy factory director push forward the interrogation and search of the factory director's brother-in-law?

Dou Honglang had been operating in the Hongxing Factory for nearly ten years, deeply entrenched in the business, and had support from above. With just a wave of his hand, he could deflect all doubts and even silently erase any possible evidence.

The opportunity is fleeting! There's hardly any sand left in the hourglass!
"Factory Manager!" Yang Guangming lowered his voice, but it carried an undeniable urgency and a do-or-die determination. "I've made a discovery! It's very important!"

Zhao Guodong's tired eyes sharpened instantly, like a cheetah suddenly awakened from a slumber. His sharp gaze, like two tangible searchlights, locked onto Yang Guangming, taking in every subtle expression on Zhao's face: "What did you find? Tell me quickly!" His body unconsciously leaned forward slightly.

Yang Guangming spoke quickly and clearly, recounting in a concise and powerful manner the fire information he had obtained from Zhou Dayong, the suspicious time difference, the contradiction between the accounts and the speed of the firefighting, Kuang Juncai's background and the rumors of "profits," and his own speculation based on this that he had embezzled and committed arson to cover up the crime.

Every key point was like a nail hammered into Zhao Guodong's ear.

Finally, he picked up the ledger with the kraft paper cover on the table and solemnly handed it over with both hands.

"Factory manager, this is the inventory log for warehouse number six. The outbound records from the evening of the 25th and the final inventory balance are all on it."

The record in black and white states that the remaining quantity is 253 bolts of first-class fine cloth!
This is irrefutable evidence!
This proves that there is still a lot of stock; the warehouse cannot be empty without a lot of fabric!
Based on the actual situation at the scene, the amount burned should not have been 'many', so this number simply doesn't match up! That's the crux of the matter!

As if struck by lightning, Zhao Guodong suddenly stood up and grabbed the ledger!
His movements were so large that the wicker chair slid backward, making a harsh, teeth-grinding scraping sound.

He didn't care about any of that, and eagerly flipped through the pages, the yellowed paper rustling under his rough fingers.

His gaze was sharp and intense, with an almost fierce focus, fixed directly on the page for November 25th.

Inventory as of the 25th: 200 bolts (item number A103). Total inventory of other fabrics: 53 bolts.

In black and white, in the bottom right corner of the accounting column, it clearly states: Total inventory: 253 horses!
Zhao Guodong's finger pressed heavily on the line "Summary of stored quantity: 253 horses", his fingertip almost piercing the paper.

He looked up abruptly, the gloom in his eyes burned away by the sudden flames! A mixture of shock at realizing the truth and anger at being fooled appeared on his face!
"It matches!" His voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement, even trembling slightly. "Guangming! Your brain works fast and is incredibly sharp!"

He slammed the ledger shut and slammed it on the table with a loud "smack," making the enamel cup lid on the table jump.

"I was there! The fire was terrifying, there was so much smoke, thick smoke billowing out, the top of the warehouse was blackened, and a section of shelves near the back collapsed. But..."

His eyes flashed with a sharp light, like two burning embers, as he paced back and forth in the cramped space, his speech becoming increasingly rapid, carrying a long-suppressed explosive force.

"But if all 253 bolts of fine cloth were burned, the fire would have been much bigger than that!"

Fine cloth is made of cotton, which is highly flammable! If piled up and burned, the flames would leap higher than the rooftops! The fire would spread over a wider area! The ashes would also be piled higher and thicker! If water were poured on it to extinguish the fire, the steam would be scalding hot!

Half an hour? Forget about putting it out, it would be difficult to even get close! I felt something was... off.

But I was misled by the preconceived notion that 'most of the goods have just been shipped out'! I was blinded! Add...

I didn't think twice about those damn so-called 'authoritative' conclusions about circuit aging! I almost got fooled by them!

He slammed his fist into his palm, making a dull thud.

He suddenly stopped in front of the bright sunlight, all the fatigue and frustration on his face vanished, replaced by a completely ignited fighting spirit and the ruthless determination of a soldier to draw his sword when facing the enemy.

He stretched out his large, fan-like hand, and with a gust of wind, slapped Yang Guangming's slightly thin shoulder hard. The force was immense, carrying heartfelt approval and a heavy entrustment, making Yang Guangming stagger and feel a dull pain in his shoulder blade.

"Good lad! Well done! You've grasped the key to breaking this deadlock! You've caught the fox by the tail!"

His eyes burned with a thirst for battle, and his voice was resolute: "Now is not the time to praise you! You stay in the office and don't go anywhere! Wait for my news!"

Zhao Guodong grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, his movements as swift and decisive as ever, and strode towards the door with a gust of wind.

His hand touched the cold brass doorknob, then he abruptly stopped, turned around, and said, "Keep this a secret! Don't tell anyone! Not a single word is allowed!"

"Understood, Factory Director!" Yang Guangming straightened his back, his voice resolute.

The door slammed shut, and heavy footsteps quickly faded into the empty corridor, carrying a resolute and unwavering determination—the direction of Secretary Tian's office.

Yang Guangming let out a long sigh of relief, his nerves, which had been stretched to their limit, relaxed slightly, but his heart was still hanging in mid-air, as if suspended by a thin thread.

Sweat had soaked his back without him even realizing it, clinging tightly to his youthful clothes and bringing a cool, sticky feeling.

Now, all hope, like fragile spider silk, rests on Secretary Tian.

With Zhao Guodong suspended from his post and rendered powerless, only Secretary Tian, ​​the top leader of the factory's Party Committee, had enough authority to bypass Dou Honglang and directly order the security department to take swift action.

Wang Weidong, the head of the security section, was someone trusted by Secretary Tian and was known for being a tough nut to crack.

Time ticked by, and the air in the office seemed to freeze, so heavy it was hard to breathe.

Outside the window, the roar of the factory machines seemed to have faded away, isolated by an invisible barrier.

The old round clock on the wall ticked monotonously and stubbornly: tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock... Every second was like a heavy drumbeat, striking Yang Guangming's taut heartstrings, making his temples throb.

He forced himself to sit down, picked up a copy of the People's Daily from the table, but his eyes couldn't focus on the familiar printed words.

My mind raced through all the possibilities, like a movie playing in my head: Would Secretary Tian believe it? Would he support this almost insane deduction? Could Wang Weidong withstand the immense pressure that Dou Honglang might exert at any moment? Would Kuang Juncai speak up? What if he stubbornly resisted to the end? And where were the stolen cloth, the stolen money and goods hidden?
Half an hour? An hour? Yang Ming couldn't tell for sure. Every minute of waiting felt like an eternity.

He got up and walked to the window. The cool glass pressed against his forehead, bringing a brief moment of clarity.

He looked down at the factory area and saw figures in blue-gray overalls beginning to appear, riding bicycles or walking, merging into the various workshops like tiny worker ants.

In the distance, towards Warehouse No. 6, the charred ruins stood out starkly against the gray sky, like an ugly scar.

Finally, footsteps echoed down the corridor again. This time, the rhythm was faster and heavier; it was Zhao Guodong's.

The door was pushed open, bringing in a blast of cold air.

Zhao Guodong's face showed a hint of excitement, as if he had seen a ray of light in the darkness, but more than that, it was solemn and urgent, with deep worry etched between his brows.

He quickly closed the door behind him, strode to the bright table in the sunlight, placed his hands on the edge of the table, and leaned forward slightly.

"It's done!" His voice was extremely low, yet it carried a powerful force, a force that had turned the tide. "Old Tian believed it! He looked at the ledger, listened to my analysis of the suspicious points and the contradictions in the fire situation, and immediately slammed his fist on the table!"

Zhao Guodong imitated Secretary Tian's actions, slamming his hand heavily on the table. "He said this matter is sinister, there's definitely something fishy going on! We must get to the bottom of this! We can't wrong a single comrade, and we absolutely can't let a single corrupt official get away with it!" His tone was filled with admiration for Secretary Tian's decisiveness.

Yang Guangming's heart skipped a beat, a surge of heat rushed to his head, and he almost shouted it out.

“Wang Weidong is in Lao Tian’s office,” Zhao Guodong continued, speaking at breakneck speed. “Lao Tian gave a direct, death order: Immediately! Secretly arrest Kuang Juncai! Interrogate him immediately! Be quick! Before Dou Honglang can react and set up any obstacles, pry open his mouth!”

He emphasized the words "secret arrest" and "immediate interrogation."

"That's great!" Yang Guangming couldn't help but exclaim softly, his heart sinking halfway down, but the other half soaring even higher.

The operation has begun, which also means the real contest has begun.

"but."

Zhao Guodong changed the subject, his brows furrowing again, as if in a knot that couldn't be untied, "Old Tian also told me the truth and poured cold water on my hopes."

Kuang Juncai's identity is special; he is Dou Honglang's brother-in-law. Without direct evidence—such as stolen goods or ignition sources—the interrogation must be conducted methodically, not recklessly, to avoid giving the other side a handle against him.

Moreover, this matter cannot be kept secret for long; Dou Honglang's informants in the factory are not to be underestimated, and they may already know.

We must race against time! We need to get a confession or find physical evidence before he makes his move!

He slumped back into his chair, which groaned in pain once more.

He clasped his hands together and placed them on the table, the veins on the back of his hands slightly bulging.

"I'm currently suspended from my duties, so I'm practically deaf and blind, just stuck here waiting for news, getting anxious and helpless! I need light..."

He looked at Yang Guangming, his eyes filled with a heavy entrustment and a desperate trust, "Go and keep an eye on things at the security department! Wang Weidong is a man of principle, reliable, but the situation could change at any time, and Dou Honglang could pounce on him at any moment!"
If you're on-site and have any thoughts, or if you notice anything amiss during the interrogation, you can communicate with him directly!
Remember, be flexible and adaptable! The goal is to obtain evidence and break the deadlock!

"Yes, Factory Director!" Yang Guangming stood up immediately without the slightest hesitation.

This is exactly what he wanted. Staying in the office and passively waiting is far less desirable than being close to the eye of the storm, even if it's just watching.

He needs to know the progress as soon as possible.

He strode out of the office, through the corridor where a few people were beginning to move about, and in the faint smell of breakfast from the canteen. His steps were quick but he tried not to make too much noise, heading straight for the solitary two-story red brick building on the edge of the factory area, near the wall—the security department. The atmosphere in the security department was clearly unusual.

The young security officer standing guard at the gate had an unusually serious expression, his back was ramrod straight, and his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. One hand was habitually resting on his belt.

An invisible tension filled the air.

The name appeared in the Ming Pao newspaper; it said that he was instructed by Deputy Factory Director Zhao to come and find Section Chief Wang to inquire about the fire situation.

The officer had obviously been informed by Wang Weidong beforehand. He didn't ask any questions, but just stared at the officer's face for a second before nodding slightly and letting him pass. He then whispered, "Section Chief Wang is on the second floor, at the very back, in the interrogation room."

Pushing open the heavy wooden door of the interrogation room, painted a deep green, a heavy, oppressive atmosphere filled with a strong smell of tobacco, sweat, and an indescribable tension hit you, making it hard to breathe.

The room was small and dimly lit, with only a small window with iron bars letting in some natural light.

Behind an old wooden table sat Wang Weidong, the head of the security department.

He was still wearing that slightly worn grass-green military uniform, with the top button meticulously fastened to the very top. His back was as straight as a pine tree, and his face was calm as still water. However, his tightly pursed lips and the deep vertical line between his brows revealed a sense of suppressed anxiety and solemnity.

Several on-site investigation records and fire reports were spread out in front of him, and his fingers unconsciously tapped the table lightly and rhythmically.

Across the table, Kuang Juncai sat with his head down.

He was in his early forties, wearing a dark blue security uniform—the one he was clearly wearing when he was arrested in the duty room, with a few clear black marks from being scorched by sparks still visible on the cuffs.

His hair was somewhat disheveled, with a few greasy strands hanging over his forehead. His face showed signs of exhaustion from staying up all night and the fear and anxiety of being arrested, with puffy eye bags.

But deep within those triangular eyes, there was a stubborn confidence and a hint of defiance.

There were also two wiry, stern-faced security officers in the room, standing on either side of Kuang Juncai behind him, like two silent and imposing gatekeepers.

When Yang Guangming came in, Wang Weidong merely raised his eyelids slightly and gestured for him to sit down on the long wooden bench against the wall, without making any further movements or saying anything.

Yang Guangming understood, so he tried to walk quietly, sit down, lean forward slightly, and focus his gaze on the interrogation scene, trying to blend into the shadows and minimize his presence.

The interrogation had clearly reached a suffocating stalemate.

"Kuang Juncai."

Wang Weidong's voice wasn't loud, but it carried the penetrating power unique to soldiers and an undeniable sense of oppression, echoing in the stuffy air.

"I'll ask you one last time. We've checked the accounts in warehouse number six repeatedly; they're in black and white, and there are no problems."

However, the amount of fabric destroyed at the fire scene does not match the balance in your account!
That's a huge difference! Where did all that cloth go? Did it just fly away?

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp and fixed on Kuang Juncai's lowered face.

Kuang Juncai suddenly raised his head, his face instantly filled with the agitation and grievance of being wronged, and his voice suddenly rose, carrying an exaggerated sobbing tone:

"Section Chief Wang! I swear to God! I, Kuang Juncai, have been in charge of Warehouse No. 6 for so many years, and every single day I've worked diligently and conscientiously."
The accounts have always been crystal clear, item by item, and can withstand any inspection by the organization at any time and in any way!
The cloth... of course it was burned! A huge fire burned it all to ashes, completely clean, you all saw it with your own eyes!
The ashes are still piled up there! How can you say it doesn't match? The fire was so big, the smoke so thick, who knows exactly how much was burned?
Section Chief Wang, please help me, don't wrong an innocent person, okay?

He spoke rapidly, with a fierce yet cowardly air, but his eyes darted around, never daring to meet Wang Weidong's sharp, piercing gaze.

"Burned to ashes?" Wang Weidong's lips curled into a cold, unfunny smile, as if he had heard a bad joke.

He picked up a few black-and-white photos taken on-site and slammed them heavily onto the table in front of Kuang Juncai, raising a small cloud of dust.

"Open your eyes and look for yourself! A third of the warehouse has collapsed, and the main area destroyed is concentrated in the middle and the three rows of shelves against the inner wall! The fire hasn't spread at all!"

If 253 bolts of cloth had been burned to ashes, the fire should have ripped the entire warehouse roof off! The walls should have crumbled! The ashes should have been head-high! So thick you'd sink under your feet! But what was the scene like?

He poked hard at the charred area in the photo with his finger. "How thick is the ash layer? How large is the burned area? Do you think our security department is just sitting around doing nothing? Can't you even see this basic on-site investigation? Do you think the sweat and firefighting efforts of our workers were all for nothing?"

The photo shows charred ruins, twisted and deformed iron bars of collapsed shelves resembling the skeleton of a monster, and a thin layer of residue mixed with black cotton-like material and grayish-white ash covering the ground.

The area was indeed clearly concentrated in a section deep inside the warehouse. Although the shelves near the door and on both sides showed signs of smoke, they were basically intact.

This scene was far removed from the devastation one would expect from a fire that could consume more than two hundred bolts of cotton cloth.

Kuang Juncai glanced at the photo quickly, his face paled slightly, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

But he immediately stiffened his neck, raised his voice even louder, and began to argue with an almost unreasonable tone:
"Fire...who can say for sure about fire? Maybe...maybe that batch of cloth was piled particularly loosely? So it burned especially fast and thoroughly? Maybe...maybe the wind wasn't blowing that way?"

Section Chief Wang, things at the fire scene are unpredictable; we can't just look at how much ash there is! Anyway, the cloth is gone!

What can I do? Why aren't you checking that damned, outdated circuit? Why are you staring at me, the warehouse manager?
My brother-in-law... Factory Director Dou, he's in charge of production, he knows the equipment best! You should ask him!

He once again tried to invoke Dou Honglang as his "guardian angel".

"Stop bringing up Director Dou!" Wang Weidong slammed his hand on the table, his voice suddenly rising like a thunderclap, making the interrogation room buzz and causing Kuang Juncai to tremble so much that he almost slipped off his chair.

"The organization is now investigating this serious fire accident, focusing on evidence, facts, and responsibility to national and collective property!"

Wang Weidong's voice was strong and clear, each word like a hammer blow: "You have 253 bolts of cloth on your books, this is written evidence!"
The burn marks at the scene indicate that it was impossible for so much material to have burned! If you can't explain this huge hole, you're the prime suspect!
You embezzled state property and then set fire to the property to cover up your crime!

What crime does this constitute? You know the answer in your heart!

He deliberately slowed his speech in the last sentence, carrying a chilling and unsettling implication.

"I didn't! You're making baseless accusations! Wang Weidong! This is retaliation! This is a frame-up!"

Kuang Juncai sprang up from his chair like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. His face turned deathly pale, cold sweat poured down his forehead, and his voice trembled with extreme fear, tinged with a sob and a desperate scream on the verge of collapse:

"I didn't steal any cloth! Not even a single foot! And I certainly didn't set a fire! It was an accident! An accident caused by aging electrical wires!"
"You can't wrong me! I want to see my brother-in-law! I want to see Director Dou! I'm not talking to you anymore! I want to see the leaders!"

He covered his head with his hands, curled up in the chair like a frightened hedgehog, and began to act hysterically, repeatedly muttering "injustice," "accident," and "see my brother-in-law."

Time ticked by in the suffocating stalemate and futile screams. The clock on the wall coldly pointed to ten in the morning. Almost two hours had passed since Kuang Juncai was brought here.

Wang Weidong's face grew increasingly grim, like leaden clouds before a storm.

He stood up, walked to the small window with iron bars, looked at the gray, oppressive sky outside, took a deep breath of the murky air, and slowly exhaled, as if to expel the pent-up emotions in his chest.

He walked back to the table and whispered a few words to the older, composed security officer standing to Kuang Juncai's right.

The officer's eyes sharpened, he nodded, and quickly and silently walked out.

The only sounds in the interrogation room were Kuang Juncai's heavy breathing, Wang Weidong's tapping of his fingers on the table, and Yang Guangming's suppressed breathing in the corner.

After a while, the officer returned, walking hurriedly.

He walked over to Wang Weidong, leaned down and whispered a few words in his ear.

Wang Weidong's face instantly turned even uglier, his ashen complexion tinged with a dark aura.

He waved his hand, signaling the two officers to continue watching Kuang Juncai, who was slumped in his chair like a lump of mud, muttering to himself. Then, without saying a word, he strode out of the interrogation room, the door closing heavily behind him.

Yang Guangming's heart sank; the worst had happened! He immediately got up and followed them out.

The light in the corridor was slightly bright.

Frustrated, Wang Weidong pulled a pack of "Pegasus" cigarettes from the pocket of his military uniform jacket. He took one out, put it in his mouth, and lit it after striking several matches. He took a deep drag, and the pale blue smoke quickly spread, enveloping his furrowed brows.

"Section Chief Wang?" Yang Guangming walked to his side and asked in a low voice, his voice a little dry from nervousness.

Wang Weidong exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, his brows furrowed deeply, his voice low and filled with anxiety:
"Secretary Tian just sent me this message through someone. Dou Honglang... already knows that Kuang Juncai has been arrested."

He flew into a rage in the factory committee office, slamming his fist on the table and cursing. He questioned Secretary Tian about why he had arrested his people without his permission as the factory director, and said that this was disrupting production and undermining unity. He said he would report this to higher authorities immediately!
Despite the pressure, Secretary Tian stubbornly insisted that this was a necessary investigation conducted by the Party Committee based on clues, but…

He paused, then took another deep drag on his cigarette. "Dou Honglang isn't alone; he brought several of his cronies to put pressure on us. Secretary Tian is about to break down!"

Yang Guangming's heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly by an icy hand, and he instantly sank to the bottom.

The worst-case scenario has happened! And it happened so quickly!

Once Dou Honglang intervenes, given his position as factory director and his influence within the factory, he has every legitimate reason to demand the immediate release of Kuang Juncai, and may even forcibly take over the investigation on grounds of "improper procedures" and "interference with production."

By then, any attempt to search Kuang Juncai's house to find stolen money, goods, or evidence of arson will be nothing short of a pipe dream! The other party will have ample time to destroy everything!
"What about the interrogation?" Yang Guangming asked, even though he already knew the outcome, he still needed to confirm it.

"Unyielding! A piece of meat to be cut!"

Frustrated, Wang Weidong forcefully stubbed out his cigarette on the mottled cement windowsill, sparks flying everywhere.

"This kid is fearless because he has his brother-in-law backing him up! He knows exactly what's going on. As long as he keeps denying it and drags it out until his brother-in-law comes, there'll be a chance to turn things around!"

Without using any methods, we can't get him to talk! But his identity..."

He sighed heavily, his face full of frustration and helplessness. "Secretary Tian has given a strict order that no extraordinary measures can be used. This is a red line."

Yang Guangming fell silent, his mind racing at an unprecedented speed.

All the roads seemed to be blocked.

Framing someone... that thought that easily pops up in a desperate situation seems to be the only possible "backup plan" to break the deadlock.

But he still clung to the last sliver of hope; if all else failed, framing someone would be his final way out.

This tactic had already been used on Li Weidong once, so he was quite adept at it.

His so-called framing was not about money; he had simply prepared several pieces of counter-evidence, just as he had done with Li Weidong before, and the same methods could be used on Kuang Juncai.

With Dou Honglang, the factory director, protecting him, such methods might not be very effective, but Yang Guangming's goal was simply to detain Kuang Juncai for a longer period of time.

With this charge, the security department had a reason to continue detaining Kuang Juncai.

Of course, Yang Guangming hoped things would go smoothly and that they could find evidence of Kuang Juncai's embezzlement. That way, he wouldn't have to frame him secretly, even though he felt no guilt.

"Section Chief Wang."

Yang Guangming's voice was unusually calm, carrying a resolute determination: "Interrogation alone is probably not enough. This huge deficit in the accounts is real; the cloth couldn't have disappeared into thin air."

He stole the cloth, so he had to sell it.

Such a large sum of stolen money, or the scarce goods obtained in exchange for it, could not possibly be completely without leaving any trace!
The most likely scenario is that he's hiding in his house! Or some secret hideout! It might not be too late to search now!

If you arrive too late, giving the other party too much time to react, they might have already moved. Finding them again then would be incredibly difficult!

Wang Weidong's eyes suddenly lit up, like seeing a torch in the dark, but the light quickly dimmed again, extinguished by the coldness of reality.

His tone was slightly frustrated: "Search? Easier said than done! It requires procedures, sufficient reasons, and the factory leadership's signature!"

At present, Kuang Juncai is only a suspect, and there is no direct evidence pointing to stolen goods in his home.

Dou Honglang will never agree to search his brother-in-law's house! He'll find a hundred reasons to obstruct it! We won't even be able to get into his house!

The security department's request for a search would be impossible to obtain; even if Director Dou Hong heard the slightest hint, it would be doomed to fail. He would undoubtedly do everything in his power to obstruct it.

Wang Weidong clenched his fists tightly.

Yang Guangming didn't think so. "How do you know you can't succeed if you don't try?"
Secretary Tian is upright and incorruptible, and he is also very efficient in handling affairs. As long as you have his consent and support, you will naturally have a way to deal with Director Dou.

I think we should trust Secretary Tian's abilities and determination.

With a desperate glint in his eyes, Yang Guangming continued:
"Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures!"
As the head of the factory's Party Committee, given that Kuang Juncai is suspected of arson and embezzlement, and at this critical juncture when Dou Honglang is about to intervene forcefully, can Secretary Tian make an exception and directly order a search?

This is the only chance to break the deadlock and find irrefutable evidence! It's also the only chance to give all the factory workers an explanation!

Any stolen money or goods found, even a suspicious large deposit certificate, or a watch or sewing machine of unknown origin, are the most compelling evidence!
No matter how domineering Director Dou was, he had nothing to say.

Even the factory director's position couldn't protect Kuang Juncai from organizational discipline!

Wang Weidong stared at Yang Guangming for a few seconds, as if he were getting to know this young factory office staff member for the first time.

The desperate eagerness and almost tragic determination in the young man's eyes burned within him like a flame.

The hesitation and apprehension on his face faded rapidly, and a soldier's decisiveness regained its advantage.

He stomped his foot hard, the concrete floor thudding. "You're right! Damn it, let's go for it! This is our last chance! We can't just sit here and wait to die! I'm going to ask Secretary Tian for instructions right away!"

He turned around and was about to rush downstairs.

"Section Chief Wang!"

Based on Yang Guangming's understanding of Secretary Tian, ​​and considering the close relationship between Secretary Tian and Zhao Guodong in private, he was 80-90% certain that Secretary Tian would agree to the security department's request for a search.

Kuang Juncai has been secretly arrested. At this point, whether for his personal prestige or for Zhao Guodong's sake, there is no way for him to turn back. Secretary Tian can only continue to be tough.

Yang Guangming called out to Wang Weidong, "Can I go with the search team? I promise I won't interfere with the search, I'll just watch from the side."

After all, I know the accounts and inventory best, and I have a good grasp of the quantity and value of the fabrics. Perhaps I can provide some perspective during the search and help identify suspicious items.

He paused for a moment, then met Wang Weidong's scrutinizing gaze with a calm expression, and added, "Secretary Tian and Deputy Factory Director Zhao shouldn't object. The more eyes there are, the greater the hope of finding evidence."

This matter is too important; I really can't rest easy unless I go and see it for myself.

Wang Weidong paused, turned back, and gave Yang Guangming a deep look. The urgency and determination in the young man's eyes moved and convinced him.

Without further hesitation, he nodded forcefully: "Alright! You're a man of principle! And quick on the way! You're coming with me to Secretary Tian's office! We'll talk on the way!"

Without another word, the two dashed down the stairs like arrows released from a bow, rushed out of the security office building, and braved the biting early winter wind, sprinting towards the solemn factory committee building in the center of the factory area.

Success or failure depends on this!
Time is measured in seconds!
(End of this chapter)