Anti-gang campaign: Female bureau chief

After Lu Zheng left, Jiang Ruolan stayed in the office for another hour.

She made a list of things to do tomorrow—meet with the two victims, Zhang Dayou and He Yongfu, retrieve the surveillance footage from Fengmao Logistics Park, verify the financial transactions between Qin Chuan's son Qin Tianyou's company and Fengmao...

The list is long, and each item is marked with a question mark, indicating uncertainty about whether it can be accomplished.

But she wasn't in a hurry. She knew she was facing an entire system alone and couldn't expect to turn things around overnight.

She needs patience, strategy, and the ability to pry open those seemingly impenetrable barriers one by one.

The city of Ngee Ann outside the window was shrouded in night, as quiet as a lurking beast.

Jiang Ruolan knew that the real battle would only begin when dawn broke tomorrow.

As night deepened, the iron gates of the Yian City No. 1 Detention Center were tightly shut, and searchlights slowly swept across the wall, leaving a pale trail of light.

In cell number three, Zhao Biao lay on the communal bed, his hands behind his head, staring blankly at the cracks in the ceiling.

The other inmates in his cell kept their distance from him, and no one dared to approach him.

Even in the detention center, Zhao Biao's name still carried a certain terrifying deterrent force.

He was thinking about what had happened during the day. Brother Shan told him to turn himself in, so he came.

He did not hesitate, because he knew that Brother Shan had his reasons for everything he did.

Having followed Brother Shan for fifteen years, he had seen too many disobedient people end up like this.

Brother Shan told him to go in, so he went in; when Brother Shan told him to come out, he would naturally come out.

But he still had a knot in his heart.

He hadn't even met the new female bureau chief, yet she was already in jail because of him. He remembered that.

On the other side of the city, in Shen Wangshan's detached villa in the suburbs, the lights were still on.

He sat alone in his study, a document spread out on the table in front of him—a background investigation report on Jiang Ruolan.

This report was much more detailed than Zhou Wenxuan’s oral report. It included her resume, her family, all the major cases she handled during her time at the provincial department, and even her personality analysis and behavioral pattern assessment.

The last page of the report had a paragraph circled in red: "This person has a very strong goal orientation and resilience, and is not easily disturbed by external factors. It is recommended not to use conventional methods to deal with them."

Shen Wangshan read the report three times from beginning to end, then took out a lighter and burned the report page by page.

The firelight illuminated the expression on his face, a complex mix of wariness and excitement.

For thirty years, Yi An has never had such an opponent.

Everyone in this city who tried to challenge him has been buried in the ground. Some were buried under mine pits in the mountains, some were buried in piles of procedural and legal documents, and some simply disappeared without a trace, not even their bones could be found.

But this time was different. This woman named Jiang Ruolan had been parachuted in from the provincial department, and she was backed by the will of the provincial department and even higher levels. He couldn't deal with her like he would with an ordinary opponent.

But that doesn't mean he's afraid of her.

Shen Wangshan stood up, walked to the antique shelf in the study, pushed open a hidden compartment, and took out an old knife wrapped in oilcloth.

The knife was rusted and had several chips on the blade, but when Shen Wangshan held it in his hand, a fierce glint still flashed in his eyes.

He found this knife on the ground in a shantytown in the east of the city when he was fifteen years old, and it was also the first person he stabbed with this knife.

The man's blood splattered on his face, burning hot; he would never forget that feeling.

From that day on, he knew one thing—in this world, whoever has the sharpest knife will survive.

More than 30 years have passed, and he no longer uses a knife, but he has always kept that principle in mind.

The world has never changed. Rules and laws are just another form of knife; whoever uses them well will survive.

He rewrapped the knife and put it back in the hidden compartment, closed the display shelf, walked to the window, looked at the dark night outside, and a cold smile appeared on his lips.

Jiang Ruolan, come on. The waters of Yi'an run deep. Let's see if you're a better swimmer or if my waves are bigger.

The next morning, Jiang Ruolan's phone was ringing off the hook.

The first call came at 5:30 a.m. The on-duty police officer reported that a vicious fight had occurred in the east of the city. Two groups of people were fighting with weapons at the entrance of Fengmao Logistics Park, resulting in four injuries, one of whom was seriously injured and was being treated.

The second call came at 6:10. A burglary had occurred in the Bishuiwan residential area in the north of the city. The victim was Qian Shouyi, a representative of the Yi'an Municipal People's Congress and vice president of Fengmao Group. He reported that 300,000 yuan in cash and two luxury watches had been stolen from his home.

The third call came at 6:45. A hit-and-run had occurred at the entrance of Yi'an No. 1 Middle School. An unlicensed van hit a female student and fled the scene. The victim was being treated in the hospital. Lu Zheng's voice was trembling when he made this call because the female student who was hit was Chen Desheng's daughter.

After Jiang Ruolan finished answering the third call, she put her phone on the table, took a deep breath, and then slammed her fist on the desk.

The water glass jumped up, rolled on the ground, and shattered into several pieces.

She suppressed all her emotions in just ten seconds, picked up the broken pieces from the ground and threw them into the trash can, then picked up her phone and dialed Lu Zheng's number:

"How is Chen Desheng's daughter?"

"He's still being treated; he has intracranial hemorrhage, and his condition isn't good." Lu Zheng's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded.

"Director Jiang, this was not an accident. The car that hit the person had no license plate, and it sped away immediately after hitting the person without even braking. Chen Desheng's wife is crying in the hospital corridor now. She said that someone came to her house yesterday afternoon and gave her husband 200,000 yuan, asking him to sign a letter of forgiveness. Her husband didn't sign it, and this morning their daughter had an accident. She said... she said she regrets it, that she should have signed it if she had known."

Jiang Ruolan's knuckles turned white from gripping the phone so tightly. She asked:

Which hospital?

"Municipal People's Hospital".

"Go there now and send two people to guard the operating room entrance. No one is allowed to approach. Notify the traffic police to immediately set up checkpoints throughout the city and intercept an unlicensed van. The front bumper should have obvious collision marks."

Also, find out the identities of the three people who were waiting downstairs at Chen Desheng's house yesterday, the sooner the better.

After hanging up the phone, she stood by the window, looking at the gray sky outside, a fire burning in her chest. She knew very well that this was no coincidence.

The three events occurred almost simultaneously, in the east, north, and city center of the city, respectively. The timing and location were carefully planned, with only one purpose—to overwhelm her, to make her anxious and stressed, and to let her know that in Yi'an, someone could manipulate events right under her nose.

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