Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

In the high-rise office buildings in downtown Zhaoming City, heavy floor-to-ceiling windows shut out the city's hustle and bustle.

Ming Shao stood by the window, his fingers gripping his phone. The words "He doesn't acknowledge it" on the screen made him frown slightly.

He was wearing a dark gray cashmere coat with an inconspicuous platinum brooch at the collar, and diamond cufflinks that gleamed coldly under the warm yellow light.

Zhang Jinshan was sitting hunched over on the leather sofa behind him.

He had just witnessed Ming Shao's face darken for two minutes after reading Liu Lei's message, and now he didn't even dare to breathe loudly.

Ming Shao threw his phone on the table.

The metal casing slammed onto the marble tabletop with a dull thud.

"Liu Lei is a good-for-nothing."

His voice was calm and emotionless, but Zhang Jinshan could tell that this calmness was more dangerous than rage.

Zhang Jinshan's teacup wobbled, and hot water splashed onto the back of his hand, but he didn't dare wipe it off.

"Young Master Ming, it was my fault for not arranging things properly. I thought that beating Liu Lei a few times would make him sign, but I didn't expect that bastard to be so stubborn. I'll think of another way, maybe we can get the procuratorate to approve the arrest directly, before he even confesses—"

"Need not."

Young Master Ming waved his hand, interrupting him.

He turned around, walked to his desk, sat down, and tapped his fingers lightly on the surface.

The rhythm of the tapping was neither too fast nor too slow, each tap feeling like it was striking a nerve in Zhang Jinshan.

"We must make the Song Dynasty sign a confession."

Zhang Jinshan opened his mouth, but hesitated to speak.

Ming Shao raised his eyelids, seeing through his confusion.

He leaned back in his chair, his tone carrying the patience of a teacher instructing a student, but this patience itself was a condescending contempt.

"You think I'm doing something unnecessary."

"No, Young Master Ming, how could I dare—"

"Now we have all the witnesses and evidence. The quality inspection station's test report, the purchasing department's warehouse receipt, Lao Zhou's confession, the 30,000 yuan transfer record you provided, plus Yuan Qiao's testimony, this evidence is enough to sentence him to three years."

Ming Shao paused, picked up the whiskey on the table, took a sip, and the amber liquid left a thin layer of residue on the glass.

"Even if he doesn't confess, the court can still convict him. I understand this, you understand it, and Liu Lei understands it too."

Zhang Jinshan nodded subconsciously. He really couldn't understand why Young Master Ming insisted that Song Chao confess his guilt in person.

Ming Shao put down his wine glass, his eyes turning cold.

"But what I want is not to sentence him. What I want is for him to willingly admit to the crime, so that he won't dare to cause trouble or recant his confession after he gets out, and even to feel that we are giving him a way out."

Zhang Jinshan paused for a moment, then frowned.

"Young Master Ming, I don't quite understand. He's already been sentenced, what else can he do? He's just a migrant worker, uneducated, penniless, and without connections. Who's going to care about him after he gets out of prison?"

A faint hint of mockery curled at the corner of Ming Shao's lips.

"Zhang Jinshan, you've been working on construction sites for so many years, but you still don't understand these people at the bottom of society enough."

He stood up, walked to the French windows, and turned his back to Zhang Jinshan.

Outside the window is the most bustling street in Zhaoming City. The glass curtain walls of office buildings reflect dazzling light under the sun, and below, cars and pedestrians crawl on the ground like ants.

"People like Song Chao are stubborn and inflexible. He worked on the construction site for five years and never slacked off. He would even argue if someone didn't twist a couple of wires properly. You might think that's a flaw, but for him, it's the source of all his confidence in life."

"If you sentence him to prison, he will go in for three years, and the first thing he will do after he comes out is to cry foul, petition higher authorities, and search everywhere for evidence to overturn the verdict."

He would take copies of the quality inspection station's test reports and knock on the doors of the Political Affairs Committee, one by one.

He would squat outside the petition office, sometimes for an entire day. He would contact every media outlet he could find, recounting his story of being framed over and over again.

Ming Shao turned around and looked at Zhang Jinshan.

"If this gets reported to higher-ups, and they send people down to investigate, they'll find out that the purchasing department was taking kickbacks, that the steel bars were substandard from the start, and that we forged the warehouse receipts—and that won't just lead to one or two other issues."

"A development spanning several thousand square meters, generating tens of millions in profits, shouldn't be ruined by a migrant worker."

Zhang Jinshan's expression changed.

He finally understood what Ming Shao meant.

It's not that the Song Dynasty was difficult to deal with; it's that once people in the Song Dynasty felt they were wronged, they would bite like mad dogs and never let go.

Three years in prison couldn't erase the hatred in his heart; on the contrary, it made his hatred even stronger.

Zhang Jinshan recalled Song Chao's appearance in the interrogation room, his face covered in blood from being beaten, his teeth grinding together, yet he refused to let go.

His eyes, swollen into slits, were filled with a hard, tooth-crushing light.

Once such a person is released, they certainly won't let the matter rest.

"So we have to let him admit it himself."

Ming Shao sat back down in his chair, his fingers interlaced on the table, his tone regaining its usual composed and strategic air.

"Make him feel that all the responsibility lies with him. Make him feel that we are giving him a chance. Make him feel that even if he cries out that he is innocent, no one will believe him. Make him admit his guilt from the bottom of his heart, and feel from the bottom of his heart that he deserves it."

"Once he signs and puts his fingerprint on it, with the written confession in black and white, he won't be able to cause any trouble even if he gets out. When he goes to petition higher authorities, they'll see it's a confession he signed himself, and who will believe him then?"

Zhang Jinshan suddenly realized and nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes, yes, Young Master Ming is very thoughtful. You are so far ahead. I was just thinking about getting the person in first, I didn't think that far ahead."

But he immediately frowned again.

"But Young Master Ming, we've tried everything with Liu Lei – beating him, scaring him, even threatening him with his wife and children – but he just won't budge. You saw the messages Liu Lei sent back; we beat him all night, and that bastard didn't utter a single word. I really can't think of any other way to get him to confess."

Ming Shao took a sip of wine, his eyes turning cold.

"Liu Lei's stupidity lies in picking things that the Song Dynasty was not afraid of."

Zhang Jinshan looked up, puzzled.

Ming Shao slammed the wine glass down on the table with just the right amount of force, the bottom of the glass making a crisp sound as it hit the marble surface.

"Hit him? He's been working on construction sites for ten years, carrying cement, steel bars, and unloading bricks. What kind of hardship hasn't he endured? What's he going to do about getting beaten up? He's used to it."

"Using his wife and children to threaten him? Zhang Jinshan, think about it, why has he been able to work on construction sites for ten years? Why does he volunteer for the dirty and tiring jobs that others don't want to do? Why does he take on jobs that others refuse because the pay is too low?"

Zhang Jinshan was stunned.

Ming Shao's voice was devoid of any emotion, as if he were dissecting an insect.

"Because he felt he was protecting his wife and children. He felt he was the pillar of the family, his wife's support, and his daughter's backing."

The more you threaten him with his family, the more powerful he feels, and the more he believes he's sacrificing for his family. You're not hitting him; you're helping him regain his dignity.