Nominal: My senior brothers are all big shots

The provincial party committee's approval was delivered to Pingjiang on a Friday evening.

The document was only one page long, stamped with the bright red seals of the Provincial Party Committee and the Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection. The few lines of text felt like a heavy stone, crashing into He Bing's hands.

He Bing read the document three times to make sure every word was accurate, then picked up the phone and dialed Lin Feng's number.

"Secretary Lin, the Provincial Party Committee has approved it. We'll take action tomorrow morning."

Lin Feng's voice was calm: "Okay. I'll keep things stable on my side."

He Bing said, "Mm."

That night, the night in Pingjiang was darker than usual.

The task force's office was brightly lit. He Bing stood in front of a whiteboard with a densely packed list of arrests in front of him.

The list contains twelve names, each followed by their job title, address, license plate number, possible hiding place, and the name of the arrest team leader.

The first few names listed were those He Bing knew best—Huang Zhiqiang, Han Ligang, Wei Guoan, and Zhao Anguo. These people were Zhou Tianming's main protectors in Pingjiang, and also the key targets Liu Zhi had entrusted to him.

He Bing picked up a marker and drew a timeline on the whiteboard. "At four in the morning, each team will arrive at their designated positions and stand by. At five o'clock sharp, the operation will commence. The arrests will be carried out in this order, and no one can escape."

He pointed to each name on the list, as if reading a verdict.

The leaders of the four arrest teams nodded in unison.

At three in the morning, Pingjiang City was still asleep.

The streets were deserted, the streetlights casting a dim, yellowish glow that stretched the shadows of the roadside trees long. A few civilian-plated vehicles silently drove through the city, dispersing in various directions.

The first group's target was Huang Zhiqiang, who lived in an upscale residential area in the east of the city. Three cars were parked outside the residential area, their lights off, and the people inside waited quietly.

It was four in the morning, and it was still dark. The lights in Huang Zhiqiang's house were off. He was asleep, perhaps dreaming. He didn't know that when he woke up, it would be his end.

At 5:00 sharp, He Bing's voice came through the walkie-talkie: "Action!"

All three cars started up at the same time and drove into the residential area.

The car door opened, and eight people filed out, walking quickly but silently. They were wearing dark jackets, body cameras, and carrying orders for compulsory measures.

Before the building's security guards could react, two men subdued them, pinned them to chairs, and gagged them. The elevator reached the twelfth floor, the doors opened, and the hallway was quiet. They walked to Huang Zhiqiang's door and rang the doorbell.

The doorbell rang several times before a woman's sleepy voice came from inside: "Who is it?"

"The property management said your apartment is leaking."

The woman's footsteps grew closer, and then the door opened.

Huang Zhiqiang's wife stood inside the door, wearing pajamas, her hair disheveled, rubbing her eyes. She was stunned to see that the people standing outside were not property management staff, but a group of serious-looking individuals.

Is Huang Zhiqiang home?

Before she could react, Huang Zhiqiang's voice came from the bedroom: "Who is it?"

He came out in his pajamas, and when he saw the person at the door, his face turned deathly pale.

He stood there, motionless, like a piece of wood.

"Comrade Huang Zhiqiang, according to the decision of the Provincial Party Committee, you are hereby placed under detention. Please cooperate." The staff member showed the decision document.

Huang Zhiqiang's hands began to tremble, but he did not struggle, explain, or even ask why.

He lowered his head, allowing the staff to handcuff him. The clanging of metal echoed in the quiet corridor like a heavy hammer blow. His wife covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face, but she remained silent.

At the same time, the second group was operating in the municipal party committee building. Han Ligang's office was on the seventh floor, in the room at the end of the corridor. He had worked overtime the night before and hadn't gone home, spending the night on the sofa in his office.

He was still asleep when the door opened, covered with a coat. Hearing the noise, he suddenly opened his eyes, and was stunned to see the person standing in the doorway.

"Comrade Han Ligang, in accordance with the decision of the Provincial Party Committee, you are hereby placed under detention. Please cooperate."

He sat up, his hair disheveled and his eyes bloodshot.

He glanced at the decision document, then at the person at the door, opened his mouth as if to say something, but swallowed his words back.

He stood up, extended his hands, and allowed the staff to handcuff him. He kept his head down and was led out of the office. In the corridor, several early-arriving officials, witnessing this scene, were stunned and stepped aside to make way for him.

The third group's target was Wei Guoan. He was the only one who tried to escape.

When the arrest team arrived at his residence, no one was home.

The bed was cold, half the clothes in the closet were missing, and the car wasn't in its parking space.

The arrest team immediately reported to command: "The target is not at home and is suspected of having fled."

He Bing's voice came through the walkie-talkie, still calm: "He can't have gone far. Notify the highway exits to set up a checkpoint."

Wei Guoan was intercepted at the highway entrance in the east of the city.

He was driving a black SUV, crammed full of luggage. He thought no one would notice before dawn, that he could escape Pingjiang by getting on the highway, that he could find connections in the provincial capital, and that he could get away with anything once he was abroad.

But he was wrong. His car had just reached the tollbooth when it was surrounded by several police cars. The headlights blinded him, and he squinted as he saw several men get out of their cars, guns in their hands, the dark muzzles pointed at him.

"Don't move! Get off the bus!"

He didn't move. He sat in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

His face was as white as paper, his lips trembled, and he couldn't utter a single word. The car door was pulled open, he was dragged out, pressed into the car, and handcuffed to his wrists. He kept his head down, his shoulders shaking.

Hundreds of thousands of yuan in cash, several passports, and a stack of documents were found in the car.

The fourth group's target was Zhao Anguo. He lived in the Changhui Municipal Party Committee compound, the furthest one. The arrest team set off at 3:00 AM and arrived precisely at 5:00 AM.

Zhao Anguo was having breakfast at home. The porridge had just been served, and he hadn't even picked up his chopsticks yet.

The door was pushed open, and he looked up, saw the person in the doorway, and dropped his chopsticks. He stood up, looked at the decision document, and remained silent for a long time.

Then he held out his hands, letting the staff handcuff him. He walked to the door, turned back, and glanced at his wife sitting at the dining table. She was covering her face, her shoulders trembling. He didn't say anything, turned, and left.

Overnight, twelve city-level officials in Pingjiang were subjected to coercive measures.

The news spread like wildfire throughout the Pingjiang officialdom after dawn.

Some people whispered in the hallway, some made phone calls behind closed doors in their offices, and some exchanged glances in the break room. Among those who hadn't been arrested, some breathed a sigh of relief, while others were even more terrified.