Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Han Qiming frowned slightly: "You just said you don't agree to be granted amnesty."

"I disagree. But if you want to pass it, I can't stop you," Gu Mingyuan said slowly. "Since I can't stop you, I'm going to sit at the table."

He paused for a second, then stated his reasons point by point, his tone carrying an undeniable confidence: "First, according to the principle of checks and balances, there should be supervision for any push. The recruitment process needs to be overseen; it cannot be allowed to proceed according to the wishes of any one faction."

Secondly, I studied Shen Qinghou's file for two months. His abilities, behavioral patterns, and psychological weaknesses—no one here knows them better than me.

Third, at the negotiating table, you need someone to judge whether he is telling the truth or lying.

"Interrogation experts are capable of this," the official on the left couldn't help but interject.

Gu Mingyuan's gaze swept over: "The interrogation experts don't understand Shen Qinghou. They don't know under what circumstances Shen Qinghou will lie, under what circumstances he will remain silent, and under what circumstances he will suddenly erupt. I do know."

"How did you know?" Han Qiming stared into his eyes, trying to see through his true intentions.

Gu Mingyuan met his gaze, his expression calm, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation: "He killed my son. His next target is me. If someone wants to kill you, you'll remember everything they did."

Han Qiming stared at him for a full three seconds, unable to detect any flaws in his expression, before withdrawing his gaze and nodding slightly: "Alright. The negotiation team will have a behavioral analysis seat; you can take it."

Gu Mingyuan pressed his fingertips against the inside pocket of his chest through his suit jacket, where he kept half of Gu Yanzhi's broken medal.

He gave a barely perceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth, which he quickly suppressed.

No one knows what he's thinking.

What he wanted was never any offer of amnesty or any national interest.

What he wanted was for Shen Qinghou to die, for that ant who dared to kill his son and who dared to make Gu Mingyuan his next target to kneel before him and beg for mercy under the most painful torture, and then be thrown into a mass grave like a dead dog.

What am I talking about? What am I talking about? What am I talking about? It's just handing him a legitimate weapon.

He would personally crush Shen Qinghou's bones one by one, letting that lowly musician know that there are some people he can never afford to offend, in this life or the next.

The conference room lights fell on his face, half bright and half dark, like a perfect mask concealing the surging malice and murderous intent beneath.

Han Qiming closed the folder and looked up at everyone: "Meeting adjourned. The execution team will immediately set off to find Su Wan and escort her to the safe house designated by headquarters. The negotiation team will produce a complete contact plan within three days."

Everyone stood up in response, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor echoing throughout the room.

Gu Mingyuan walked last, glancing back at the eight files sealed with top-secret red seals in the center of the table before leaving. His gaze lingered on the three characters "Shen Qinghou" for a few seconds, a cold smile appearing on his lips.

just wait.

We'll meet soon.

------

After the meeting, Gu Mingyuan returned to his office.

The office overhead lights were off; only the desk lamps emitted a cold, white light.

Gu Mingyuan's gaze fell on the open file of Shen Qinghou, and he was thinking about what method to use to get rid of Shen Qinghou.

Even if we offer amnesty, we cannot offer amnesty to Shen Qinghou.

He held a pen between his fingers, his gaze sweeping over the case file of Chen Zhiyuan tucked inside the archive, stopping at the line in the injury assessment report: comminuted fracture of the thyroid cartilage and permanent damage to the vocal cords.

Affixed to the cause and effect of the injury was Zheng Hongwen's one-inch ID photo. The man's hair was slicked back, the top two buttons of his shirt collar were undone, and he had a nonchalant smile on his lips. At the age of twenty-six, his face was full of the frivolity that comes from being spoiled by power.

Gu Mingyuan reached out and pulled out Zheng Hongwen's file, turning the pages one by one.

The incident four years ago involved kicking and breaking Chen Zhiyuan's Adam's apple. Attached was the settlement agreement from that time, signed by Zheng, the deputy director's secretary. The compensation was 200,000 yuan, and the remarks section stated, "Civil dispute, voluntarily settled by both parties."

Next came three settlement agreements for sexual harassment allegations, each with a higher amount than the last. The last one, signed six months ago, was for a staggering 400,000 yuan. The name of the female intern who signed the agreement was blurred out, and only Zheng Hongwen's flamboyant signature was visible at the end.

Gu Mingyuan closed the file, and the pen cap clicked shut, the sound particularly clear in the empty office.

Zheng Hongwen's knife is dirty, sharp, and stupid enough.

Sexual impulses always override reason. He has repeatedly escaped punishment by relying on his uncle's power. He has long been accustomed to treating everyone as playthings that he can manipulate at will. He has an almost narcissistic certainty about his identity as the "pillar of the provincial song and dance troupe".

As long as he sees Su Wan, he will naturally swarm towards her like a fly attracted to the smell of fish.

When the time comes, the headquarters' protection team will inevitably intercept them. Once a conflict breaks out, Shen Qinghou will learn that his ex-girlfriend got into trouble under the so-called "protection," and the premise of his offer of amnesty will immediately become a joke.

Given Shen Qinghou's personality, he would kill Zheng Hongwen and anyone who stood in his way. The General Headquarters would be forced to retaliate. With the Sharp Blade Brigade's firepower pressing down, Shen Qinghou would undoubtedly die.

With the appeasement faction losing its bargaining chips, the hardliners will naturally regain control of the situation, and his position will only become more secure.

Throughout the entire process, his hands remained perfectly clean, leaving not a single direct command.

Gu Mingyuan picked up the internal phone on the table and dialed the number of the contact person at the Department of Culture. A respectful greeting came from the receiver. He gave a few instructions in a calm voice, and the person on the other end responded repeatedly. Before hanging up, he didn't even dare to ask a question.

He put down the receiver, reached into the locked drawer of his desk, and found the Su Wan protection plan, which had just been issued by the General Administration and was stamped with a top-secret red seal on the cover.

Protection level: Important related party.

The fixed-point monitoring team takes turns in pairs at the entrance and exit of the residential building, changing shifts every eight hours.

Mobile sentries will conduct random patrols along the route from the school gate to the staff dormitory.

Su Wan's mobile phone and landline call records are uploaded in real time;

The mobile team is parked two kilometers away and can arrive at the scene within five minutes.

Gu Mingyuan read through each item and then turned to the personnel configuration page.

There are four groups with a total of twelve people. Each group has one group leader and two members.

His fingertip slid down the list and stopped at the name of the second group member, "Zhou Chenghai".

He was 34 years old and had been transferred from the Provincial Criminal Investigation Corps. Three months ago, when the General Administration was established, he personally signed off on the transfer.

When Zhou Chenghua arrived at his office that day, he didn't say a single word of nonsense, only leaving the words, "Committee Member Gu, from now on, I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

After that, Zhou Chenghai would come over every ten days to give a verbal report on his work, never leaving any written record.

Gu Mingyuan pulled out a blank shift adjustment application form, picked up a pen, and wrote in the adjustment reason column: Zhou Chenghai, a member of the second group, is recommended to be adjusted to the late night shift. He has rich experience in night watch during his time at the provincial department.

The original job replacement column states: It is recommended to be transferred from the third group.

The handwriting was neat, the reasons were plausible, and there was nothing wrong with it.

Late at night, there are few people coming and going in the residential building, and the monitoring attention is at its most relaxed. After the third group of people were transferred to fill Zhou Chenghai's vacancy, the shift density of the original positions was naturally diluted. The whole process did not require increasing the number of staff or alarming anyone. It was just a reasonable allocation based on "professional experience".

He signed his name, placed the application form at the bottom of the pending documents, mixed in with other routine personnel adjustment documents, and it appeared normal.