Anti-gang campaign: Female bureau chief

"It's not just public opinion."

Shen Wangshan narrowed his eyes.

"She wants to catch bad guys, right? Then let her catch them. But every bad guy she catches turns out to be a 'good guy' in the end."

In Zhao Biao's case, I want Chen Desheng to come out and recant his testimony, saying that the incident of smashing the shop that day was a personal grudge between him and Zhao Biao, and had nothing to do with any underworld.

We went to the victims in the other cases one by one, giving money to those who were willing to change their stories; and finding ways to get those who weren't to change their stories.

"What if you still don't want to?"

Shen Wangshan didn't answer the question, but only glanced at Zhou Wenxuan. The meaning of that glance was clear—you know how to handle this.

Zhou Wenxuan didn't ask any further questions. He had followed Shen Wangshan for so many years and knew this man's style of doing things all too well.

His gentleness was feigned, his smile was feigned, and even his suit and cigar were feigned.

Deep down, he's still the same man who spoke with a knife in the shantytown of eastern Chengdu thirty years ago.

But now he uses a different kind of weapon—law, contracts, personal relationships, and interests, things he manipulates with ease, sharper than any iron weapon.

"By the way, has the appointment with Gu Changhe for tomorrow been finalized?" Shen Wangshan asked.

"It's settled. Tomorrow night at seven o'clock, at the Cuiyuan Tea House in the east of the city. Mayor Gu's secretary said that Mayor Gu only has forty minutes."

"Forty minutes is enough." Shen Wangshan stood up, stretched his neck, and his cervical spine cracked.

"Prepare a 'gift' for me."

"What gift?"

"Gu Changhe's son, Gu Mingzhe, runs an investment company in the provincial capital. He's currently working on a real estate project, but it seems there's been some trouble with his cash flow. Find a company that isn't directly related to us and inject 20 million yuan into his project under the guise of investment."

Zhou Wenxuan frowned slightly:

"Brother Shan, isn't 20 million too much?"

"Not many." Shen Wangshan smiled, a smile with a sharp edge.

"Twenty million to buy leverage over the executive vice mayor is too cheap. We used to give Gu Changhe money, but he never accepted it. He's too shrewd; he knows money is the hottest commodity."

But his son's company is different; it's a legal investment, clean and aboveboard, and nobody can find fault with it. Once he takes those twenty million, he'll be mine, Shen Wangshan's man."

Zhou Wenxuan nodded thoughtfully. He had to admit that Shen Wangshan's insight into human nature had reached a level of consummate skill.

Gu Changhe was a man of impeccable integrity. He refused to accept gold and silver treasures, avoided beautiful women, did what he was supposed to do, and took the political achievements he was supposed to take, but never left any handle for anyone to use against him.

Money and sex won't work against this kind of person, but family can. Gu Changhe's only weakness in this life is his good-for-nothing son, Gu Mingzhe, who runs a business in the provincial capital. He's all talk and no action, losing more money than he earns, and every time he messes up, Gu Changhe is the one who cleans up his mess.

Shen Wangshan's move went straight into Gu Changhe's most vulnerable abdomen.

The night grew deeper. The streetlights in Nghe An City were sparse and dim, and there were almost no pedestrians on the road.

The city becomes a ghost town at night, with every household's doors and windows tightly shut, as if everyone has tacitly agreed on a rule—after dark, the streets belong to those things that shouldn't be seen.

On the fourth floor of the Municipal Bureau, Jiang Ruolan's office light was still on. She had been working for nearly twenty hours straight, her eyes bloodshot, but her spirits remained high.

Her notebook was already filled with dense writing; she had reviewed each clue repeatedly. She was building a system.

At the core of this system is Shen Wangshan and his Fengmao Group. One layer outside are key members like Ren Pengfei and Zhao Biao, then officials like Fang Xuewen and Qian Deming who have been bribed, and the outermost layer consists of ordinary people and grassroots cadres who have been coerced and lured.

The system seemed unbreakable, but she found its weakness.

This system operates on two things—fear and self-interest. Fear silences people, and self-interest makes people loyal.

But the relationship that fear and self-interest can maintain is inherently fragile. As long as she can exert enough pressure at a critical juncture to tip the scales of fear to the other side and break the chain of self-interest, this seemingly impeccable system will begin to crumble from within.

She initially selected Zhao Biao as the key figure for that crucial moment.

Shen Wangshan used so much force to rescue Zhao Biao, even at the cost of bumping into a fourteen-year-old girl, which shows that Zhao Biao knew a much bigger secret than she imagined.

If we can get Zhao Biao to talk, the investigation of the entire case will find a breakthrough.

She was writing the name "Zhao Biao" in her notebook when her phone suddenly rang. It was Lu Zheng calling.

"Director Jiang, Chen Kexin is awake." Lu Zheng's voice carried a hint of relief.

"The surgery was successful. The doctor said his vital signs are stable, but the nerve damage in his right leg is quite severe, and he may need a long period of rehabilitation."

Jiang Ruolan held her phone, closed her eyes briefly, and let out a long breath. This was the first good news she had received since arriving in Yi'an.

Where is Chen Desheng?

"He's still in the hospital. He asked me to say something to you—he said he won't sign the letter of understanding."

Jiang Ruolan paused for two seconds, then said:

"Tell him that he made the right choice. Also, starting tomorrow, send two plainclothes officers to guard Chen Kexin's hospital room 24 hours a day. A similar tragedy must not happen again."

After hanging up the phone, she stood by the window, gazing at the dark night sky outside, and muttered a sentence to herself, her voice so soft that only she could hear it.

"Shen Wangshan, you made a move, and I made a move in return. Now, it's my turn to make a move."

The night wind blew in through the cracks in the window, rustling the papers on her desk.

She didn't press the button; she simply stood there, like a silent stone statue, her gaze fixed firmly on the distant city shrouded in darkness.

It's almost dawn.

The sun rose as usual on the fourth day, but the sky over Yi'an remained gray, as if covered by a layer of dirt that could not be washed off.

Jiang Ruolan woke up after sleeping on the cot in the office for less than four hours.

She washed her face with cold water, looked at her bloodshot eyes in the mirror for a few seconds, then put her police cap back on and pulled the brim down to the right height.

The person in the mirror looked several years older than they actually were, but their gaze was sharper than ever.

At 5:30 a.m., she sent Lu Zheng a message:

"I will personally conduct the interrogation of Zhao Biao at nine o'clock this morning."

..............