After my divorce at thirty, I developed an intelligence network.

The troubles have changed. Before, it was creditors blocking the door, clients defaulting on payments, and workers protesting for unpaid wages.

Now, it's about the rules of the territory, the shadowy figures lurking in the shadows, and the potentially intricate web behind Yang Ruyan.

But the essence remains the same—you still need to have the power to deal with it, or at least make people think you do.

He stood up again, this time adding steps.

Forward, backward, side slide.

The punches were coordinated with the footwork, no longer just pounding in one spot, but had a more fluid feel to them.

A straight punch followed by a hook punch, and then a hook punch followed by an uppercut.

The movements were still simple, even a bit rough, but that fierceness was evident.

Sweat stung his eyes, but he ignored it and continued.

The muscles are protesting, but something deeper is awakening—the reassuring feeling of having the fatigue limit pushed back little by little, the certainty that when you clench your fist, there is something inside that can truly be punched out.

After an unknown amount of time, he threw his last right hook, which stopped in mid-air, his arm muscles twitching.

Then slowly retract and lower down.

His chest heaved violently, and he was drenched in sweat.

He walked to the basin and splashed his face with cold water.

Looking up at the mirror, the man's eyes were bright, showing both exhaustion from a heavy job and a sense of relief.

There were no profound insights or sudden realizations about boxing principles.

It's tiring, really tiring.

But this exhaustion seemed to dispel some of the pent-up, unclear frustration from the day.

He dried himself off and lit a cigarette.

The night was deep and the courtyard was quiet.

Having a stronger fist doesn't necessarily solve all problems.

But at least, when trouble comes knocking, you'll feel more at ease.

Step by step.

Projects need to be negotiated, territory needs to be secured, and skills need to be developed.

Gong Yuelong stubbed out his cigarette, but his mind kept racing.

Jiang Yan's words echoed in his ears—"This pool looks clear, but it's deep underneath. Be careful."

How do you strike a balance?

He'd rather just follow the proper channels, build according to the blueprints, and abide by the contract?

But the face under the wall of the High-tech Zone, and the words "materials used, quality matters," clearly tell you that some roads are not to be avoided just because you want to.

He opened his phone and browsed the local news. Several articles popped up: "Municipal Housing and Construction Bureau, in conjunction with multiple departments, launches special campaign to rectify the construction market," "Severely cracking down on illegal activities such as forced buying and selling and monopolizing building materials," "Purifying the business environment..."

The title is grand, and the wording is very strong.

Gong Yuelong scrolled down and looked at the comments section.

One comment that got a lot of upvotes said, "Be more discreet while things are in the spotlight, but go back to what you were doing once the storm has passed." A bunch of people liked it.

He turned off his phone and threw it on the bed.

The crackdown is just a passing fad. When things get really heated, the sand and gravel tycoons might shrink back and behave themselves for a few days.

The storm has passed, but construction still needs to resume, and sand and cement still need to be delivered.

He didn't believe that those local tyrants, who had been entrenched for years and whose roots were firmly planted in the local network of connections, could be blown down by a few gusts of wind.

In this line of work, it's not impossible to live a legitimate life, but you need someone to protect you in an absolutely clean glass case.

He's not destined for that.

Jiang Yan might be able to point him to a relatively clean path, but she can't shield him from all the dust in every situation.

I want to rise up, to truly establish myself in this concrete jungle, and to build a legacy that can be passed down through generations...

Whether it's white, gray, or even black, you need to know how to navigate it; you need to keep track of things in your mind.

It's not about becoming a villain, much less about crossing those red lines that could cost you your head.

Instead, one must understand what undercurrents lie beneath the surface of this pool, which stones are safe to step on, and which are swamps.

As that old coworker said, you have to know when to raise your fist, when to offer a cigarette, and when to keep quiet and make your money.

It's like dealing with that Boss Wu. If you follow his rules completely, a chunk of your profits will be eroded; if you stubbornly refuse to associate with him, the project may be restricted at every turn.

Perhaps we need to find a middle ground? We should acknowledge part of the dock fees that should be paid, but we also need to let him know that he is not a pushover.

This involves negotiation, competition, and, most importantly, discretion.

Gong Yuelong walked to the window and looked out at the dark courtyard.

The road ahead is long and treacherous. But having chosen this path, we cannot just focus on the small, clean patch of ground beneath our feet.

You need to see the outline of the entire quagmire clearly, and know where you can step and where the dead end is.

He wants the white one.

It's gray; he has to learn how to deal with it.

As for the black... his eyes darkened. That line was absolutely off-limits.

But in any case, if you want to make a fortune, you have to understand both of these paths in your heart.

……

A few days passed, and relying on the few small projects selected by the system, Gong Yuelong led Cao Dayong and the others to shuttle between different construction sites.

The pay isn't much, with a profit of around ten thousand yuan per job, but the settlements are quick and efficient.

Like a timely rain, it stabilized the team's basic expenses and allowed the company's account figures to slowly but steadily climb up a little.

Cao Dayong and the workers were full of energy, feeling that following Brother Long gave them a bright future. They worked diligently on even the smallest tasks, and their reputation quietly spread in their private circles.

Lin Wei did indeed introduce two small-scale projects, which, although not very lucrative, proved that the line was indeed operational.

Busy during the day amidst dust and noise, returning to the small courtyard at night to dismantle the characters.

Gong Yuelong's mind was always filled with images of the factory buildings in the High-tech Zone and Yang Ruyan's calm eyes as she offered him the ladder.

Small sums of money are essential for survival, but that 3,000-square-meter factory is the stepping stone that will allow him to truly advance.

The path pointed out by the system, the pitfalls Jiang Yan pointed out, the lazy face under the wall... all the clues converge on that one point.

We should go and give it a try.

……

The courtyard where characters are dismantled, late at night.

Gong Yuelong didn't turn on the light and was scribbling on his laptop.

What does Boss Wu want?

First, he wants money. That's the obvious thing. At that construction site in the High-tech Zone, every cubic meter of sand, gravel, and cement that passes through his hands is marked up by a few or even ten yuan. Little by little, it adds up. This is business, a business cloaked in shady dealings.

Secondly, there are rules. His rules. On this land, he's the one who calls the shots, at least in this matter. This is a kind of authority, a sense of control. Breaking the rules is challenging his authority, and the loss isn't just money, but also face, and the fear his subordinates feel towards him. For this kind of person, sometimes face is more important than money.

Third, he wanted to maintain stability. He didn't want to escalate the situation and invite real repercussions.

The pen tip wrote:

What do I have? What do I want?

There are: a capable and obedient team, Jiang Yan's elusive attention, and... the intelligence system in her mind.

What I need is to take on factory projects, earn solid profits, establish a foothold in the high-tech zone, and build a reputation.

The point of conflict: Boss Yang wants a cut and to follow his rules. I don't want to be taken too much, nor do I want to be completely subservient.

Gong Yuelong stared at the two sets of words for a long time. Then, he slowly wrote two characters in the blank space in the middle:

negotiation.

He can't just tough it out; toughing it out would be too costly, and he's just starting out, so he can't afford it.

It's not about accepting everything, that would be like working for Boss Yang for nothing.

He put down his pen and rubbed his stiff neck.

No matter how good your ideas are, they still need to be put into practice.

The first step is to connect with the client and finalize the project's overall framework and payment terms. Having the client's contract in hand gives us a better bargaining chip when negotiating with Boss Yang.

As for Yang Ruyan… his gaze deepened. This girl was probably more than just a simple messenger.

Who is she connected to? How much influence does she have with Boss Yang? These questions need to be answered gradually through contact.

One must walk the path step by step, and play the game of chess one move at a time. But at least now, I have a rough chessboard in my mind, and I know roughly where my opponent is and what pieces I have in my hand.

He closed his notebook, walked to the window, and lit a cigarette.

To make a living on this land, it's not enough to just keep your head down and work; you also have to learn to look up at people, keep your head down and do the math, and find your own narrow path in the gaps between black, white, and gray.

If all else fails...

only.

kill.

To fight our way out.