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

September 23, 1998, meeting room of the Provincial Political and Legal Affairs Commission.

The audience was packed with people, with cadres from various municipal political and legal departments and relevant provincial departments diligently writing down their thoughts. The meeting lasted for almost forty minutes.

Liang Qunfeng sat on the stage, his gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, flipping through the materials he was reading, speaking in a calm and unhurried tone.

"I know that the work of the public security police is stressful. There is a shortage of police force, tight funding, the need to solve murder cases, maintain public order, and handle petitions and complaints well—any one of these tasks would be a heavy burden on your desks."

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and glanced around.

"But the more this is the case, the more it demonstrates our importance. Who do ordinary people rely on to dare to go out in the middle of the night? It's because everyone here has led the team well and carried out the work effectively."

Some people nodded, some took notes, and some sat still.

A routine meeting, routine speeches, the rhythm as steady as a pendulum.

After explaining team discipline, Liang Qunfeng went on to outline several specific work plans, speaking at a consistently slow pace and in a consistently gentle tone. He then turned to the last page of the materials in his hand.

"Let me mention something else."

He took off his glasses, held them in his hand, and leaned back in his chair.

"Let's talk behind closed doors."

The air in the conference room paused for a moment.

The pens stopped, the notebooks were all closed, and everyone adjusted their posture at the same time.

"Speaking behind closed doors" – this means telling the truth, not just words on paper or platitudes, but something they need to take to heart, not just for recording and learning.

Liang Qunfeng placed his glasses on the table.

"Drug trafficking, fraud, human trafficking—these cases are difficult to solve and dangerous to apprehend. Comrades on the front lines, it's not easy for you." His voice lowered.

"The most important thing here is that the safety of the police officers must be taken into account during the arrest operation; safety is the top priority."

Han Baotian, who was sitting in the first row on the side, was originally leaning back in his chair. Hearing this, he straightened his back slightly, but his expression remained steady.

"Especially—"

Liang Qunfeng paused.

His gaze shifted from the gold-rimmed glasses on the table, past the people in the front row, and landed on the faces of those in the back rows. His gaze wasn't intense, but everyone felt as if it had swept over them.

"The safety of undercover police officers must be taken very seriously."

Han Baotian's hand, holding the water glass, paused for a moment in mid-air.

"Don't treat undercover officers as just a name, or as a stepping stone, just for the sake of achieving credit!"

Liang Qunfeng's voice wasn't loud, but every word struck like a hammer blow. The conference room was so quiet that you could hear the quartz clock on the wall ticking.

"I'm sure everyone has seen a lot of Hong Kong movies and TV dramas. During the British control era, how many of those undercover agents had a good ending? How many were able to return to a normal life?"

He pointed to everyone.

"They are human beings too, raised by parents, with large families to support. Children wait for their fathers to come home, and elderly parents wait for their sons to fulfill their filial duties. If you throw a young person into a drug den without even providing them with proper training—how are they supposed to survive?"

"How can we, as leaders, face this police officer and his family?"

No one responded. The leaders in the front row all lowered their heads and thought, tapping their fingers lightly on the table. Those in the back row stared intently at the stage, trying to remain silent.

Liang Qunfeng leaned forward and braced his hands on the edge of the table.

"Anyone who prioritizes personal gain over the safety of undercover officers—report this to me. You won't get credit, but you'll have plenty of handcuffs."

The voice suddenly rose by half an octave.

"Furthermore, have you conducted the required systematic training for undercover officers? Have you arranged adequate logistical support? Have you provided psychological counseling? I hope everyone here will go back and thoroughly review these points one by one. Don't wait until something happens to try and fix things—once someone is gone, what can you fix?"

There was a long silence in the conference room.

In those few seconds, cold sweat poured down Han Baotian's forehead!

Qi Tongwei, the graduate student from Han University who was forced to stay at Yantai Mountain by Liang Lu.

That young man who volunteered to go undercover, that young man who was transferred from the judicial office to the criminal police team and thrown into the drug dealer's den without even systematic training.

The color drained from his face little by little.

What did Liang Qunfeng just say?

"They didn't even provide any systematic training," isn't that exactly what happened at Dianyantai Mountain?

At a provincial work conference, a deputy secretary of the provincial party committee and secretary of the political and legal affairs commission, behind closed doors, specifically raised the issue of the safety of undercover police officers, and spoke so harshly that he even used the word "handcuffs" in public.

Is this a ploy to target me?

It's definitely me!

Han Baotian's knuckles turned white as he gripped the pen.

He recalled the matter that Gao Yuliang had asked Qi Tongwei after the meeting two months ago.

At the time, he felt that Gao Yuliang was meddling too much—Qi Tongwei applied for the position himself and had graduated several years ago, so what business was it of yours, Luzhou Political and Legal Committee Secretary?

Now he understood that Gao Yuliang wasn't meddling; Gao Yuliang was saving face for him.

They asked you a question first, and only reported it after asking.

When his people brought the list up, he simply wrote two words – "Agreed".

Every word Liang Qunfeng uttered at the meeting felt like a blow to his spine.

"Some people below are not doing their jobs properly. Don't think nobody knows. Let's all strive to improve!"

He picked up his teacup, blew on the tea leaves, took a sip, and then gently set it down. "That's all I have to say. Meeting adjourned."

After Liang Qunfeng and the group of leaders left the stage, the chair legs creaked and groaned as they walked out. Some people were carrying notebooks, while others were making phone calls in hushed tones: "Old Zhou, go back and immediately go over the work over there..."

Han Baotian remained seated until almost everyone had left before standing up. His secretary, Xiao Li, peeked halfway in from the doorway: "Secretary Han, the car is waiting downstairs."

Han Baotian waved his hand, took out his phone, scrolled to the number of the Yantai Municipal Bureau, paused on the dial button for a moment, and then put it down.

You can't call; you can't talk about this over the phone. You have to go back and ask in person.

He needed to find out—who submitted the list for Qi Tongwei's undercover mission? Who made the decision to send him out without training? Did they know Qi Tongwei was from Handong University? Did they know the matter had already reached the provincial level? He suddenly remembered Gao Yuliang's words—"Qi Tongwei is an outstanding graduate of Handong University, and also the student union president!"

He thought it was just polite talk at the time, but now he understands the significance of "Outstanding Graduate of Handong University, Student Union President". It doesn't mean "the leaders know he's good", but rather "the leaders are watching his every move, so don't even think about underhanded tactics!"

Han Baotian put his phone back in his pocket and left the meeting room.

The hallway lights were blindingly white, and leather shoes clicked and clacked on the terrazzo floor, each step feeling like walking on unsteady cotton. Downstairs, the black Audi was already running, its exhaust pipe sputtering white smoke.

Han Baotian's face was dark the whole way, his face was ashen. His secretary in the front passenger seat secretly glanced at him several times in the rearview mirror, not daring to breathe loudly.

Finally, he took out his phone.

"Hello, this is Han Baotian. I'm on my way back to Yantai. Inform all leaders at the division level and above in the Yantai municipal political and legal system to come to a meeting at 10 PM tonight!"

"It's tonight at 10 PM, that's right! Make sure they all arrive half an hour early!"