Official title: Refused to stay at the university, started his career in a rural town.

As soon as the door of the black Audi opened, Zhao Ruilong got out.

He wore a striped suit, had his hair slicked back, and his leather shoes were gleaming. He stood in the courtyard of the township government, looked around, and curled his lip slightly.

"this one?"

Du Bozhong climbed out of the passenger seat. He was in his early thirties, with a thin, long face and small eyes that looked at people as if he were sizing up a pile of goods. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, held up a black umbrella for Zhao Ruilong, and gave a sly laugh.

"Brother Long, we're all in this mountain village, we're lucky to even have a cement yard."

Zhao Ruilong didn't respond, nor did he inform anyone or ask anyone to lead him; he simply walked towards the office building.

Du Bozhong followed behind, walking at a moderate pace, as if strolling through the streets.

Wu Xiang saw someone through the office window, quickly stubbed out his cigarette, and stood up.

"They're here."

Yang Fan didn't move. He stood by the window, watching the two figures in the courtyard. One was aggressive and menacing, the other unhurried and relaxed.

The former is a knife, and the latter is the hand holding the knife.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and after hearing the door next door open, he hesitated for a moment before going out to wait.

"Hey, who are you? Why are you going upstairs without an appointment?"

Xiao Chen from the office had just returned from the restroom when he encountered two people barging in and quickly stepped in to stop them.

Upon hearing this, Wu Xiang frowned slightly. As he quickly walked to the stairwell, he said to Xiao Chen, "Xiao Chen, it's nothing. You can go back to what you're doing."

Turning around, he quickly put on a smile and said, "You two are from Ruilong Group, right? Please come in, please come in."

Zhao Ruilong led Du Bozhong past him without even raising his eyelids, and entered the room marked "Secretary's Office." He glanced around—an old-fashioned desk, a wooden chair, a map of Anyang County on the wall, and an enamel mug on the desk.

Wu Xiang and Yang Fan exchanged a glance, their faces grim, and hurriedly caught up.

Then he went straight behind the desk and plopped down in Wu Xiang's chair.

Wu Xiang's smile froze on his face.

Zhao Ruilong leaned back in his chair, shifted from side to side, and frowned.

"This damn stool is as hard as a coffin lid."

I looked up at Du Bozhong.

"Old Du, get our Secretary Wu a new set of furniture later, solid wood, so he doesn't get hemorrhoids from sitting on it."

Du Bozhong stood beside him, a smile playing on his lips. "Alright!"

Wu Xiang's Adam's apple bobbed. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, finally managing to squeeze out, "No, no, I'm used to sitting here..."

Zhao Ruilong ignored him.

He took a toothpick out of his pocket, put it in his mouth, and started picking his teeth.

The office quieted down, with only the soft sound of toothpicks scraping between teeth.

Yang Fan stood in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his knuckles white from clenching them.

He stared at Zhao Ruilong—the beloved son of Zhao Lichun, a member of the Provincial Party Committee Standing Committee, the current and future top playboy of Handong Province, and the empty shell head of Ruilong Group. In the original drama, this man turned Handong upside down; Gao Yuliang fell into his hands, Qi Tongwei died at his hands, and the bloodshed at Dafeng Factory owed half its credit to his relentless pursuit. This man was a greedy and insatiable wolf.

Now he sits in Wu Xiang's chair as if he were sitting on his own kang (heated brick bed), using a toothpick to declare ownership of the room.

Yang Fan clenched his fists tightly in his pocket.

He didn't dare say "Who the hell do you think you are!"

What Handong University taught him wasn't how to curse or offend people, but how to maintain relationships.

But Hantong University also taught him something else—there are some bottom lines that you can't back down from.

Zhao Ruilong took the toothpick out of his mouth, looked at the vegetable leaf on it, and flicked it onto his desk.

Then he looked up, as if he had just noticed that there were two other people standing in the room.

"Yo."

He grinned.

"My lords, my name is Zhao Ruilong, an ordinary citizen from Handong. I've come today to deliver money to you."

Wu Xiang quickly replied, "Mr. Zhao, you're too kind, you're too kind..."

"That cooperative proposal," Zhao Ruilong pointed at Yang Fan with a toothpick, "was it written by you? Yang—Yang Fan, right?"

Yang Fan looked at him. "Yes."

"Alright, this is something." Zhao Ruilong tossed a toothpick onto the table. "Ruilong Group thinks it's good. For the future development of Qingping Township, we've decided to invest our technology and take a controlling stake in the cooperative. You guys, from now on, you can just enjoy the good life with us!"

"As long as we follow Ruilong Group, we'll have no obstacles in Handong Province!"

He leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and grinned, revealing a row of teeth.

"How about that? Pretty good, right?"

Wu Xiang's smile vanished completely. He glanced quickly at Yang Fan.

Yang Fan's face remained expressionless.

"Excuse me."

Zhao Ruilong's smile faltered for a moment.

"The cooperative model is government-guided, with village collectives and farmers holding shares, and the township government holding a symbolic share or no share at all." Yang Fan's voice was not loud, but he pronounced each word clearly, "There is no such thing as controlling stake."

The office fell silent again.

Du Bozhong quietly took a few steps back, placing himself in Zhao Ruilong's blind spot, and narrowed his eyes. His gaze lingered on Yang Fan's face for a moment, as he fell into deep thought.

Zhao Ruilong slowly lowered his hands from behind his head.

He stood up, placed his hands on the desk, leaned forward, and stared intently at Yang Fan.

"In Handong, especially in your Anyang."

He spoke slowly and deliberately.

"I said it exists, and it exists!"

Yang Fan didn't move.

"What's the point of this plan if there's no controlling shareholder?" Zhao Ruilong tilted his head. "Don't you think so, Mayor Yang?"

Yang Fan looked at him.

"The plan has already been submitted to the county, then to the city, and the city has approved it. We have no authority to change it!"

Zhao Ruilong stared at him for three seconds.

Then he laughed.

He walked around from behind his desk, stood in front of Yang Fan, and patted Yang Fan on the shoulder. It was a hard pat, a loud "smack."

"It's okay, it's a cooperative, it can go out of business."

His hand was still on Yang Fan's shoulder.

"Do you know what 'yellow' means? It's yellow, you know?"

Yang Fan remained silent.

"If we have controlling interest, this can be called a cooperative alliance, a cooperative faction, and it can be launched tomorrow, understand?"

Zhao Ruilong withdrew his hand, tapped Yang Fan's chest, and then patted Wu Xiang's shoulder.

"I urge you to think this through carefully!"

He turned around and walked towards the door. When he reached Du Bozhong's side, he turned back.

"By the way, Lao Du, also get a set of solid wood office supplies for Township Head Yang. We don't want people saying our Ruilong Group doesn't know the rules. Now let's go up the mountain and check out our Ruilong Group's wild game. I'll sign the contract tomorrow when I come down!"

Du Bozhong straightened up from the doorframe. "I've got it."

Zhao Ruilong had already walked out. His footsteps echoed in the corridor, each one like the hammering of nails.

Du Bozhong did not immediately follow Yang Fan out. He stood at the door and glanced back at Yang Fan.

"Secretary Wu, Mayor Yang."

Yang Fan looked at him.

"Brother Long has a bit of a temper," Du Bozhong chuckled, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "He just wants to be friends with you guys. In Handong, isn't it good to have more connections?"

Wu Xiang and Yang Fan didn't respond, but just stared at him with cold expressions.

Du Bozhong's smile lasted for another second before fading. He turned and jogged after Zhao Ruilong, his leather shoes making a much softer sound on the corridor floor than Zhao Ruilong's.

The sound of the Audi starting up came from the yard; the engine roared twice, followed by the sound of tires screeching over the concrete.