The Rise of a Special Forces Soldier Abandoned by a Wealthy Family

Seeing Hao Yuan's enlightened expression, Wu Jun continued, "But how exactly to arrange things, where to place them, what role they should play... I don't know. After all, this is the Jingtong District, your territory under Secretary Hao's control."

At this point, he turned slightly to the side and picked up the disposable plastic knife that had been placed next to the cake for cutting. The blade was thin and reflected a cheap sheen under the light.

Wu Jun gripped the hilt of the knife, turned the tip around, and steadily handed the hilt end to Hao Yuan.

"Secretary Hao," his voice lowered, carrying an almost hypnotic calmness and pressure, "look, this cake belongs to your Jingtong District Guesthouse; you are the rightful owner of this cake. Now, it's right in front of you."

"I'm handing you this cake knife too."

He paused, his gaze landing squarely on Hao Yuan's face, each word carrying immense weight:

"However... this cake of yours seems a bit too big."

"I believe you probably can't finish it all by yourself."

"Perfect timing, I'm here tonight. So..."

Wu Jun leaned back, his usual confident, self-assured smile returning to his usual air.

"It all depends on how much you, Secretary Hao, are willing to allocate."

"or……"

He uttered the second half of the sentence softly, his voice as light as a feather, yet carrying a chilling coldness:

"Choose, enjoy alone."

After saying that, before Hao Yuan could react, Wu Jun raised his hand and pressed the service bell.

The waiter entered in response.

"Take all the soup off the table," Wu Jun ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I don't want any soup."

"Yes." The waiter quickly and efficiently took away the several bowls of almost untouched soup.

Inside the private room, only the dishes, cake, knife, and two silent men remained.

Wu Jun calmly picked up his teacup, took a sip, and then looked at Hao Yuan with a composed gaze, as if the metaphor carrying a great threat from before had never happened. He simply asked casually:

"Secretary Hao, what do you mean?"

Hao Yuan's hands were clenched into fists under the table, his palms covered in cold sweat.

Cake. Cake-cutting knife.

Wu Jun said nothing explicitly, yet he said everything.

He also laid everything out in the open, using the most aboveboard methods and making the most "reasonable" request—to recommend two young people with government-affiliated positions.

But the underlying meaning is as sharp as a knife:

The enormous profits and benefits brought by Longyu Group cannot be monopolized by Hao Yuan and Jingtong District alone.

Since the Wu and He families have arrived, they're here to get a share. How much is up to you. Don't share? You'll have to bear the consequences.

The phrase "I won't drink the soup" is a double entendre. It's not only a statement that I, Wu Jun, am not here to drink soup, but also a direct warning:

If you, Hao Yuan, don't know how to divide the cake, then in the future, you might not even be able to get a sip of soup.

This is an open conspiracy. It is a near-overwhelming form of oppression built on absolute strength and self-confidence.

Hao Yuan felt a strong sense of suffocation. Anger, helplessness, anxiety, humiliation... all sorts of emotions churned and clashed in his chest.

He had long anticipated that Wu Jun's arrival was ill-intentioned, but he hadn't expected the other party's methods to be so direct and domineering, leaving absolutely no room for maneuver.

Refuse? The pressure from the combined forces of the Wu and He families is far beyond what the Hao family, and a newly risen district-level secretary, can withstand.

The other party has countless ways to make it difficult for him to move an inch, both within and outside the rules, to create complications for the Longyu project, and ultimately, they may even remove him from this "achievement".

Agree? That would be tantamount to inviting wolves into the house, handing over the trust and opportunities entrusted to Zeng Long and Longyu Group to these greedy wealthy families to devour.

More importantly, once this door is opened, how many eyes will be watching? How many hands will reach in?

The future development of Jingtong District will no longer be driven by development laws and people's needs, but will become a chessboard for various forces to compete and divide the spoils!

What should I do?

Various solutions flashed through his mind, only to be quickly rejected. Delay? Wu Jun wouldn't give him time.

To discuss it in a meeting? Can the leadership team withstand this pressure? Vague answers? Wu Jun isn't buying it...

Just as my thoughts were almost completely tangled and the pressure reached its peak—

A figure suddenly appeared in his mind.

Zeng Long.

That man, too young for his age, yet possessing a mountain-like composure and deep, penetrating eyes. The man who gently placed this incredible opportunity into his hands.

Last time, Hao Yuan's son, Hao Shuai, was also caught in a dilemma in Wu Jun's scheme. Zeng Long easily resolved the situation and took the opportunity to push Hao Yuan to the position of secretary of the Jingtong District.

This time...

Hao Yuan took a deep breath, as if a drowning man had grasped at the last straw. His violent heartbeat did not subside, but a strange courage, mixed with hope and determination, welled up from the bottom of his heart.

He cannot give in here. At least, he cannot give in before trying everything possible.

Hao Yuan forced a smile back onto his face. This time, the smile contained less of a forced ease and more of a genuine... apology?

"Young Master Wu," he stood up, his tone sincere.

With a perfectly timed pause, a hint of embarrassment and urgency appeared on his face:

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I probably drank too much tea tonight, I suddenly have to pee. Young Master Wu, please have a moment, I'll be right back! We can talk more when I get back!"

After saying that, before Wu Jun could react, Hao Yuan bowed slightly, turned around with a slightly hurried step, opened the door of the private room, and walked out quickly.

The door closed gently behind me.

He temporarily shut out Wu Jun's momentarily fixed gaze and the suffocating oppressive atmosphere in the private room.

The corridor was brightly lit. Hao Yuan leaned against the cold wall, took a few heavy breaths, and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat.

Without any hesitation, he quickly pulled his personal cell phone out of his pocket. His fingers trembled slightly with nervousness, but he still accurately found the number that he rarely dialed but knew by heart.

He didn't send a message.

Press the dial button directly.

The waiting tone coming from the receiver struck his taut nerves with every twang.

Answer the phone quickly...

Zeng Long...

Can you break the deadlock this time?

Inside the private room, Wu Jun sat alone at the table, looking at the empty seat opposite him, as well as the untouched cake box and the cheap plastic knife on the table.

The smile on his face slowly faded, and his eyes became deep and unfathomable.

"Need to pee?" he muttered to himself, tapping his index finger rhythmically on the table.

"Hao Yuan, oh Hao Yuan..."

"Are you really in a hurry, or...?"

His gaze seemed to pierce through the wall, looking towards some unknown direction.

On the chessboard, a chess piece seems to want to break free from its predetermined path.

This game...

It seems to have become more interesting.