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

Chapter 153, Section 152: The Leader's Decisiveness, Throwing a Tantrum, and Obvious Evidence

The heavy, dark brown wooden door to Secretary Tian's office was tightly closed.

Wisps of grayish-white smoke seeped out from the crack in the door above, mixed with a strong, pungent smell of tobacco, meandering and spreading in the cool air of the corridor.

Yang Guangming and Wang Weidong exchanged a glance, both seeing the same urgency in each other's eyes. Time was like a taut string, making it hard to breathe. Without further hesitation, Wang Weidong raised his hand and tapped the door panel with three short, forceful knocks.

"Come in!" Secretary Tian's voice came through the door, hoarse from staying up all night and heavy with the somberness of smoke.

The two pushed the door open and entered.

A thick cloud of smoke rushed in, almost suffocating people.

The office resembled a giant chimney, its light dimmed by the smoke.

Secretary Tian sat upright behind his large desk, leaning slightly forward, his brows furrowed into a deep frown. In his hand, he held a half-smoked "Chunghwa" cigarette, the butt covered with long ash and teetering on the verge of falling.

Across from him, Zhao Guodong stood by the window, a cigarette between his fingers, his back to the door, gazing at the gray sky outside.

His broad back was ramrod straight, exuding a heavy, oppressive weariness, as if bearing an immense burden.

Hearing the door open, Zhao Guodong whirled around. His bloodshot eyes swept sharply across the doorway, like two blasted knives. Seeing that it was Wang Weidong and Yang Guangming, a flash of urgent light instantly appeared in his eyes, a light that flickered brightly amidst his tired, bloodshot eyes.

"Secretary! Deputy Factory Director Zhao!"

Wang Weidong skipped the pleasantries, strode to his desk, and began speaking at a rapid pace, his voice hoarse with urgency.
"We've been interrogating Kuang Juncai for two whole hours! This kid is relying on his brother-in-law Dou Honglang, insisting it was an accident and that all the cloth was burned! He's completely unyielding! We're running out of time!"

His chest heaved violently as he stared intently at Secretary Tian's wrinkled face. "Director Dou has already received word and wants me to go over and report. He also sent word that he reprimanded me, pointing the finger at our security department for their poor performance and for framing an innocent person!"

Wang Weidong took a deep, rapid breath, as if he wanted to inhale all the stale air in the office into his lungs and then exhale it with decisive force:
"Director Dou asked me to go over and report on my work; I can't delay for too long."

There's only one option left: we must search Kuang Juncai's house immediately!

Based on our speculation, Kuang Juncai must have stolen a lot of fabric from the factory over the years, and the most likely way to get the money from it is to hide it in his home.

If we search now, we might be able to find something before they even realize it!

If it gets any later, and he has time to move the items, or if Director Dou directly orders an intervention, we'll have no chance at all!

"Secretary, this is the only breakthrough! Success or failure... hinges on this!"

The air in the office seemed to freeze. Only grayish-white smoke silently swirled and hovered above the three men's heads. The mountain of cigarette butts in the enamel ashtray on the table silently testified to the inner turmoil of the two leaders.

Secretary Tian's wrinkled face was as deep and still as a still pool.

He stared intently at Wang Weidong, his fingers unconsciously tightening, and the half-burnt "Chunghwa" cigarette butt was stubbed out hard in the ashtray with a soft but piercing "hiss".

He looked up, his gaze passing over Wang Weidong's shoulder, and met Zhao Guodong's eyes by the window.

Zhao Guodong said nothing, only nodded heavily. In his eyes was a desperate trust, a resolute determination, needing no words, everything was conveyed.

Secretary Tian slammed his hand on the table! The loud bang made the documents and teacup lids on the table jump.

He stood up abruptly, his movements displaying the decisiveness and ruthlessness characteristic of a seasoned soldier, the chair legs scraping harshly against the floor.

"Search! Go now!" His voice wasn't loud, but it was resolute and carried an unquestionable authority; every word was like an iron nail driven into wood. "Wang Weidong, you lead the team yourself! Pick the most capable men! Be quick! Be ruthless! Dig up the evidence, even if you have to search three feet into the ground!"

His gaze sharpened as he swept over Wang Weidong. "If anything goes wrong, I'll take responsibility!"

"Yes, Secretary!" Wang Weidong straightened his chest and spoke in a loud voice, as if he had been injected with boundless power. The anxious flame in his eyes instantly turned into a fierce fighting spirit.

"Xiao Yang!" Secretary Tian's gaze turned to Yang Guangming.

“Secretary!” Yang Guangming responded immediately.

"You're coming too! You're always so meticulous, you might be able to help. Keep your eyes peeled!" Secretary Tian's order was concise, forceful, and left no room for argument.

"Understood!" Yang Guangming replied firmly, his voice loud and clear.

"Go quickly!" Secretary Tian waved his hand, sat back down in his chair, grabbed another "Chunghwa" cigarette from the table, and struck a match. The orange-yellow flame leaped, reflecting his slightly trembling hand—not fear, but suppressed excitement and the tension of a decisive battle.

Without pausing, Wang Weidong and Yang Guangming turned and rushed out of the office like arrows released from a bow. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, shutting out the suffocating smoke and the overwhelming pressure that filled the room.

Inside the security office building, the atmosphere was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.

Wang Weidong strode into his office with lightning speed.

Inside, three burly men in faded, old-fashioned military-style security uniforms were already waiting, their expressions solemn and their eyes sharp, like eagles ready to strike.

They are Chen Weiguo, Liu Dagang, and Zhang Qiang, the most capable and experienced backbone members of the security department.

"Xiao Chen! Lao Liu! Zhang Qiang! Come with me!" Wang Weidong's voice was deep and urgent. "Take the search tools! Crowbars, flashlights, bags! Move out immediately!"

The three men who were called out made no unnecessary movements. Without hesitation, they grabbed their belts, fastened them quickly, picked up the crowbar and high-powered flashlight leaning against the wall, and nimbly followed Wang Weidong.

"Everyone ride bicycles!" Wang Weidong roared.

The five men rushed out of the security office.

The chill of early winter morning was biting, carrying a strong, burnt smell—the lingering scent of last night's fire.

Several nearly new "Forever" brand bicycles were parked in the yard. Everyone jumped on, with Wang Weidong taking the lead. The wheels rolled over the cold cement, making a rapid "shush-shush" sound, and like an arrow released from a bow, they rushed out of the factory's rusty iron gate.

The biting wind lashed my face like a knife, still carrying the smell of ashes.

The family quarters are just outside the factory wall, a few rows of gray, three-story red brick buildings, standing like silent giants in the thin mist. It's only a two-minute bike ride away.

"Building 6! Unit 3! 3rd floor, 306!" Wang Weidong shouted the target address while leaning forward and pedaling hard, his voice breaking in the wind.

The wheels bounced and tumbled on the uneven cinder and gravel road. Yang Guangming followed closely behind Wang Weidong. The cold wind blew into his throat, but he didn't feel the cold. Instead, he felt a burning flame in his chest, making his mouth dry. His eyes were fixed on the building ahead, which was getting closer and closer and had a blurry "6" marked on it.

squeak - squeak -

Several bicycles stopped almost simultaneously at the entrance of Unit 3, their wheels leaving short tracks on the ground and kicking up fine dust.

Led by Wang Weidong, the five of them swiftly threw off the support frame and rushed up the narrow cement stairs, which were piled with miscellaneous items, taking three steps at a time.

The stairwell was filled with the mixed smells of breakfasts from various households—porridge, pickled vegetables, the smell of leftover coal smoke, and a faint ammonia smell wafting from the public toilet.

Third floor, room 306.

A dark green, thin wooden door was tightly closed, with a faded "福" (good fortune) character pasted on it.

Without the slightest hesitation, Wang Weidong raised his hand and knocked three times forcefully, the sound standing out loudly in the quiet corridor.

At first, there was a deathly silence inside. Then came a rustling sound, like someone hurriedly getting out of bed, followed by the sound of slippers shuffling on the floor.

A shrill female voice, heavy with sleepiness and impatience, rang out: "Who is it? So early in the morning! You're making so much noise! ​​Can't a person get any sleep?!"

"Open the door! It's the security department!" Wang Weidong's voice was steady, carrying an unquestionable, official authority that penetrated the door panel.

A brief silence fell again inside the door, as if one could hear the sudden, rapid heartbeat of the person inside.

After waiting for a minute, just as everyone was getting a little impatient, the clanging sound of chains being unlocked finally rang out.

The door was opened a crack, revealing the face of a middle-aged woman with cheap face powder and puffy eyes. It was Mu Qiuxiang, Kuang Juncai's wife.

She was wearing a brand-new gray sweater, her hair disheveled. When she saw the several uniformed, stern-faced security officers standing outside the door, especially Wang Weidong, who was leading them, a hint of undisguised panic flashed in her triangular eyes, like a frightened mouse.

But the momentary panic was quickly masked by a blustering and aggressive demeanor.

"Section Chief Wang? What... what do you mean by this?" Mu Qiuxiang asked in a shrill voice, instinctively trying to close the door crack even tighter, one foot still braced against the door. "What's going on in my room? Wasn't Juncai called away by you? Why are you looking for me? I don't know anything!"

"On official business! Search!" Wang Weidong said succinctly, without further ado, and reached out to push the door open.

"search!"

Mu Qiuxiang's voice suddenly rose eight octaves, as if she had been scalded by boiling oil. She lunged at the door frame, desperately blocking the door with her body.

"What right do you have to search us? Do you have any procedures? Do you have a search warrant?"

My husband is Director Dou's brother-in-law! You've gone completely lawless!

"I want to see Director Dou! I want to get justice from the leaders! You're trespassing! You're bullying a woman like me!"

She screamed and spit almost onto Wang Weidong's face while pushing and shoving him with her hands and feet, her fingernails nearly scratching his sleeve.

That heavily made-up face was contorted with excitement and fear, its eyes flashing wildly, revealing an undisguised, deep-seated terror.

"Make your move!" Wang Weidong's eyes flashed, but he remained unmoved, having long been accustomed to such tantrums.

Chen Weiguo and Liu Dagang, the security officers behind him, immediately stepped forward, one on the left and one on the right, their movements professional and powerful.

Chen Weiguo grabbed Mu Qiuxiang's wildly flailing arm and twisted it behind her back, while Liu Dagang controlled her other arm and struggling body, like two iron clamps instantly restraining her firmly, half-dragging and half-pulling her away from the door frame.

Mu Qiuxiang kicked wildly, her cloth shoes slamming against the doorframe with a dull thud. She let out even more piercing and desperate cries and curses: "Robbers! Bandits! You'll die a horrible death! Director Dou won't let you get away with this! You'll suffer retribution!..."

Wang Weidong didn't even glance at her before stepping into the room with another security officer, Zhang Qiang.

Yang Guangming followed closely behind, closing the door behind him with a soft "click," shutting out Mu Qiuxiang's hysterical cries and curses from the hallway outside, leaving only muffled sobs.

As soon as the door closed, the light inside the room immediately dimmed.

Just as Yang Guangming had predicted, Kuang Juncai's status as the factory director's brother-in-law did not bring him any housing benefits beyond his rank.

What you see before you is a typical housing layout for an ordinary working-class family in Shanghai in the late 1960s, just like Yang Guangming's housing layout—a room with an inner and outer room of about 26 square meters.

The outer room serves as both a living room and a dining room. Against the wall is a square table with peeling paint and two wobbly chairs, while some old cardboard boxes and other odds and ends are piled up in the corner.

The inner room was the bedroom, with a faded white curtain with blurry red flowers partially drawn, revealing the outlines of a double bed and a large wardrobe.

The cement floor was uneven and pitted, the walls were mottled and yellowed, and many places were covered with old newspapers, some of which had curled up and fallen off.

The entire space is small, crowded, and easily visible.

Wang Weidong and Zhang Qiang were both experienced veterans, their sharp eyes scanning every corner.

Without exchanging a word, the two tacitly split up and went their separate ways. Wang Weidong went straight to the bedroom and yanked back the curtain. Zhang Qiang, meanwhile, began a thorough search of the outer room, his movements swift and precise.

Yang Guangming wasn't a member of the security department; he was just an observer, so naturally he couldn't actually conduct a search.

He stood in the center of the outer room, his gaze calmly sweeping over the cramped and shabby space, while listening intently to the sounds coming from the inner room and the increasingly desperate sobs of Mu Qiuxiang outside the door.

Mu Qiuxiang's extreme, almost insane reaction just now acted like a shot of adrenaline, causing a tacit, cold understanding to flash between him and Wang Weidong when they exchanged glances.

There is no three hundred taels of silver here!
The more panicked and resistant they are, the more they try to cover it up, the more it proves there's a problem.

Zhang Qiang quickly searched the outer room. The drawers of the table were pulled open, and the needles and thread, several rolls of grain coupons and cloth coupons tied with rubber bands, and a few cents and coins were poured out onto the table. The contents were obvious at a glance, and the amount was negligible.

The clutter piled up in the corner was moved aside and carefully inspected. Apart from dust and a few cockroaches, there was nothing unusual.

Zhang Qiang even bent his knuckles and carefully tapped the wall and floor; the sounds were solid, muffled, without any hollows.

"Wang Ke, there's no major problem outside." Zhang Qiang reported in a low voice towards the bedroom, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible disappointment. He picked up the small amount of loose change on the table and weighed it in his hand. "Just this little bit of loose change, enough for normal household expenses."

At this moment, Wang Weidong in the bedroom acted even faster and more violently.

He lifted the curtain, and the bedding on the double bed covered with floral sheets was thrown off, revealing the coarse palm-fiber bed frame underneath.

With a forceful pull of his hands, he lifted the heavy, palm-fibered bed frame and examined underneath—there was only years of accumulated dust and a few scattered buttons.

The five-drawer chest in the corner was pulled open with a "bang," and the clothes inside—mostly nearly brand-new work clothes, cotton undershirts and trousers—were shaken out and inspected one by one. There were also some ordinary clothes and a small amount of rolled-up small bills and cents.

He crouched down, bent his knuckles, and carefully tapped along the bottom and side panels of the dresser, producing a dull sound.

He then checked the foot of the bed and the back of the bedside table, and even touched the back of the old framed picture on the wall that had the words "Learn from Daqing in Industry" printed on it, his movements professional and meticulous.

"Damn, they hid it well." Wang Weidong stood up, dusted off his hands, frowned, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The large sum of cash or valuables that I had imagined were not found in the bedroom.

The stark and oppressive contrast between Mu Qiuxiang's excessive reaction and the meager amount of valuables found during the search was overwhelming.

But this contrast only strengthened Wang Weidong's judgment—the item must be there, and it was hidden extremely well, right in this small space!

As Yang Guangming walked into the bedroom, his gaze quickly swept over the small space, which was almost entirely filled with furniture.

The bed, wardrobe, and chest of drawers were all bulky and heavy, reflecting the cumbersome and pragmatic style characteristic of that era.

He looked around, his gaze finally settling on the bulky double bed and the dark brown solid wood wardrobe that almost reached the ceiling.

Stories from later generations about how people racked their brains to hide valuables during those special times instantly flooded my mind.

These old pieces of furniture, made of solid and heavy materials, aren't they the perfect medium for tampering with the inside?
"Section Chief Wang." Yang Guangming's voice was soft but exceptionally clear, breaking the oppressive silence in the bedroom. "These old-fashioned pieces of furniture look solid and heavy. Could... they have hidden compartments?"

"Mezzanine?" Wang Weidong and Zhang Qiang's gazes instantly focused on Yang Guangming's face like searchlights, their eyes filled with a bright sense of sudden enlightenment.

Immediately, their gazes shifted sharply to the bed and the wardrobe, as if seeing their structure for the first time.

Wang Weidong's eyes flashed with a sharp light!
He strode over to the double bed. It was an old-fashioned solid wood canopy bed, with unusually heavy headboards, footboards, and side panels, the edges of which were wrapped with worn, dark wood strips.

He no longer simply lifted the bed frame to look underneath, but instead squatted down, bent his knuckles, and rhythmically tapped along the edge of the bed frame, inch by inch. Tap, tap, tap… the sound was dull and even, the texture of solid wood.

When his knuckles tapped on an inconspicuous bed frame near the inside of the headboard, close to the corner of the wall and hidden by the shadow of the bedside table, the sound of the tapping suddenly changed!
Tap, tap! The sound became hollow! Completely different from the solid, muffled thuds elsewhere! As if another space was hidden inside!
Wang Weidong and Zhang Qiang's eyes met instantly, and they both saw the almost bursting joy in each other's eyes, followed by an even more solemn and murderous aura!

"There's a hidden compartment!" Zhang Qiang exclaimed softly, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

Wang Weidong immediately signaled to Zhang Qiang for help.

The two of them worked together, holding their breath, and carefully moved the heavy double bed away from the wall by half a foot, revealing the side against the wall.

Dust fell down.

Wang Weidong's fingers carefully explored the hollow edge of the fence, his fingernails quickly digging into an almost invisible crack cleverly concealed by putty and dust.

His eyes narrowed, and he suddenly pried it open with all his might!
With a soft "click," a movable wooden board, about half a meter long and twenty centimeters wide, was removed, revealing a meticulously crafted long, narrow hidden compartment inside the bed frame!
In the dim light, the dark compartment was crammed full!

Bundles of ten-yuan "Great Unity" banknotes, bound together with rubber bands! Brand new and crisp, they were stacked neatly like red bricks!

At a glance, there are at least a dozen bundles!
Beside it, there were several strips carefully wrapped in thick oiled paper, gleaming with a dark golden light—gold bars! There were at least seven or eight of them! They emitted a cold yet alluring luster in the dim light!

Yang Guangming's heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down his spine. Found it! The enormous hole that had swallowed up national assets was right here!

"Found it!" Zhang Qiang's voice changed completely with excitement, filled with disbelief and shock.

Immediately afterwards, Wang Weidong's gaze locked onto the large wardrobe, which also seemed excessively heavy and almost level with the ceiling, like that of a hungry wolf.

He no longer needed Yang Guangming's reminder; he darted to the wardrobe.

This wardrobe has double doors. The upper part is a hanging area, where one or two old work clothes are displayed. The lower part has three large drawers side by side. Wang Weidong didn't touch the drawers. Instead, he reached out with both hands, grabbed the sides of the wardrobe, and lifted it upwards with force! He wanted to test if the entire wardrobe was loose.

Absolutely motionless! The wardrobe was incredibly heavy, as if welded to the ground!

"Below! The base!" Yang Guangming immediately called out, his gaze fixed on the base of the wardrobe, which was about half a foot off the ground. The base was a solid piece of wood, painted the same dark brown as the wardrobe itself.

Wang Weidong and Zhang Qiang immediately squatted down and focused the beam of their flashlights onto the base.

Wang Weidong bent his knuckles again and rhythmically tapped along the edge of the base, especially near the corner of the wall.

Tap, tap... When the familiar hollow sound rang out again as the wooden base, furthest to the left and closest to the corner, was struck! Tap, tap, tap!

“Here!” Zhang Qiang immediately cooperated, his voice suppressing excitement.

The two quickly pulled out the short crowbars they carried with them. This hidden compartment was clearly more concealed than the one on the bed; the gaps were almost perfectly sealed with putty and paint, making it virtually undetectable without close inspection.

The sharp tip of the crowbar was carefully inserted into the gap at the edge of the wooden board. The two men gritted their teeth and used skillful force to pry it open little by little.

Crunch...crunch...

The wooden planks emitted a tooth-grinding groan.

Finally, with a soft "snap," a perfectly disguised movable board, about a foot square, was pried open!
The beam of the flashlight shone in eagerly.

The space inside is even larger than the hidden compartment under the bed!
Besides the neatly stacked bundles of "Great Unity" cash, what's even more eye-catching is a thick stack of bank deposit certificates!

The names on the deposit slips are all over the place, clearly indicating that they are all anonymous deposits!

Next to the deposit slip was a bulging brown paper bag tied tightly with a rubber band. Zhang Qiang held his breath, carefully took it out, untied the rubber band, and opened the bag.

It was crammed full of all sorts of tickets and certificates!
Watch coupons, sewing machine coupons, bicycle coupons, stacks of military cloth coupons, thick stacks of nationally valid grain coupons... all of these were the most sought-after, most valuable, and coveted hard currencies of that era!

These tickets, like a small mountain, silently testify to their owner's greed.

The air in the bedroom was completely still.

Only under the beam of a flashlight can one not ignore the bundles of cash, the cold gold bars, the deposit slips covered with numbers, and the colorful tickets.

Yang Guangming forced himself to calm down and quickly made an assessment.

The cash found in front of us alone amounted to 1,000 yuan per bundle, and more than ten bundles would amount to more than 10,000 yuan!

Those gold bars included both large and small yellow croakers; seven or eight of them weighed over a kilogram!
Add to that the amounts on those deposit slips, and those tickets that can fetch several times their value on the black market…

This is definitely not the kind of wealth that a small warehouse manager could accumulate with his meager salary, even with the "care" of his brother-in-law Dou Honglang!
This is irrefutable evidence of embezzlement of state property!
"Heh..." Wang Weidong exhaled a long, cold breath, his voice filled with a chilling sense of settled dust and a sharp killing intent that was about to unfold.

He carefully put the movable board back into the interlayer of the wardrobe base, stood up, dusted off his hands, and moved with steady and powerful movements.

"Bring them all out! Count them! Register them!" His command was brief, forceful, and left no room for argument.

Zhang Qiang and Chen Weiguo, who had just entered, immediately took out the thick canvas bag and hard-cover registration book they had prepared.

The three men moved swiftly, yet with barely suppressed excitement and a touch of solemnity as they dealt with stolen goods. They began to carefully remove, count, and record the valuables from the hidden compartment one by one.

The thickness and number of banknotes in each bundle, the length and estimated weight of each gold bar, the amount, account name, and bank of each deposit certificate, and the type, denomination, and quantity of each ticket are all clearly and meticulously recorded.

The bedroom door was opened from the outside, and Liu Dagang, who was holding Mu Qiuxiang, poked his head in, indicating that he was controlling her.

When Mu Qiuxiang's eyes, dulled by fear and despair, saw the piles of banknotes, gleaming gold bars, yellowed deposit slips, and colorful tickets spread out on the table, the last trace of color drained from her face in an instant, and even her lips turned ashen white.

She let out a short, desperate "uh" sound, as if she were being choked, and her body went limp, as if all the bones had been pulled out of her body in an instant, like a puddle of mud.

Liu Dagang, who was supporting her, quickly pulled her back to prevent her from falling directly to the ground.

She collapsed there, her eyes vacant as she stared at the wealth she had painstakingly hidden and treasured. All that remained was heavy, dying breathing; the scene before her had completely drained her of the strength to cry out and curse.

Wang Weidong glanced coldly at Mu Qiuxiang, who was lying on the ground, her face pale, his eyes looking at her as if she were a pile of dirty garbage, without the slightest pity.

He picked up the register, quickly glanced at the final summary figures, and then slammed it shut with a sharp "snap," his voice clear and distinct in the silent room: "Caught red-handed! Take him away!"

His gaze swept over Mu Qiuxiang on the ground and the stolen goods on the table. "Take her and the stolen goods back to the security department! Keep a close watch on them!"

Liu Dagang and Chen Weiguo immediately dragged the completely limp Mu Qiuxiang up, her legs dragging weakly on the ground.

Zhang Qiang and Chen Weiguo carefully packed the registered stolen money, goods, deposit slips, and certificates into sturdy canvas bags, and tied the bags tightly, making them immediately heavy.

Wang Weidong took one last look around the small suite, which was now a mess but had just revealed a shocking secret. His gaze lingered for a moment on the bed with the mezzanine and the large wardrobe, as if trying to etch the scene into his mind.

Today's search was a memorable experience for him.

Immediately, he turned around decisively and strode towards the door.

"go!"

A group of people escorted the distraught, lifeless Mu Qiuxiang, carrying heavy canvas bags filled with evidence of her crimes, down the narrow cement stairs in a grand procession.

Yang Guangming followed behind Wang Weidong, breathing in the crisp early winter air, which carried a refreshing coolness after the dust had settled.

He subconsciously glanced back at the drab apartment building; the window of room 306 was dark and gaping, like a silent mouth gaping open in horror.

Downstairs, family members who were not working and workers who were off-duty and staying at home were all alarmed by today's commotion. They gathered in twos and threes by the flower beds or bicycle sheds in the distance, pointing and whispering.

Kuang Juncai and his wife were considered celebrities in the building. Both were quite arrogant and had good living conditions, and before today, they were the envy of their neighbors.

At this moment, Mu Qiuxiang's arms were being twisted, and she looked completely lost and distraught, a far cry from her previous image.

Seeing this, the faces of the onlookers were filled with surprise, speculation, and a hint of excitement.

Wang Weidong walked steadily at the front, his back ramrod straight.

The seriousness on his face had not completely disappeared, because the storm was far from over.

But deep in his eyes, the heavy flame of victory was burning uncontrollably, dispelling the previous anxiety and gloom.

The bicycle was pedaled again, the chain making a "click-clack" sound. The wheels rolled over the potholes and cinders of the residential area, making a heavier sound than before.

The truck no longer carried the urgency and anxiety of its arrival, but rather heavy, irrefutable evidence powerful enough to shake the very foundation of the entire Hongxing Factory.

A cold wind blew, swirling up fallen leaves and ashes, chasing after the departing wheels.

(End of this chapter)