Official statement: Tongwei is dead! You chose Ruijin, didn't you?

The car bumped along the way and entered the industrial zone where Dafeng Factory was located.

As soon as Sun Liancheng arrived at the open space in front of the factory office building, he saw Zheng Xipo staring at his beloved son Zheng Qian, their faces red and necks thick, looking like two turkeys fighting over mating rights.

Zheng Qian, holding up a brand-new smartphone, jumped up and down, shouting that the internet was full of rumors that Handong had overturned another major case, and now banks were terrified of anything even remotely related to previous projects.

He passionately suggested that they film a short video of workers crying and wailing for their wages while clutching rusty machines, and then post it online to muddy the waters.

"Dad, you don't understand! This is the era of internet traffic! The key is to 'play the victim to force loan disbursement'! As soon as the public opinion takes off, those officials will be afraid of taking responsibility and will definitely allocate funds immediately! It's better than us sitting here starving, right?" Zheng Qian waved his arms as if he were a public relations mastermind.

"It's fine if you film the workshop, but don't post baseless rumors online!" Zheng Xipo was so angry he was jumping up and down, raising his hand to slap him. "Didn't you cause enough trouble last time? Do you want our factory to die already?!"

Turning his head, Zheng Qian saw Sun Liancheng walking slowly with his hands in his pockets, and immediately changed his expression like a Sichuan opera performer.

One second he was an unruly and rebellious youth, the next he had a fawning smile. His ability to change his expression was so fast that even the speed of light would be astonished.

"Oh, District Chief Sun, you've finally arrived! You're simply our savior at Dafeng Factory, a supernova illuminating our dark future!"

Zheng Qian stepped forward, bowing and scraping, "Look at this room full of lumps of iron. We can't possibly be taken away for questioning along with Old Chen, can we? The machines can't wait for the case to close!"

District Chief Sun?

Sun Liancheng's eyes flickered slightly, but his heart remained calm; he even felt a little amused.

For him, the district chief was a thing of the past, like a supernova that had already exploded, now only a dim white dwarf remnant remained.

But for these ordinary people, titles seem to be etched into their DNA. No matter what position you hold now, they always like to refer to you by your most glorious moment.

"I'm no longer the district head, just call me Old Sun," Sun Liancheng said calmly, without a trace of disappointment in his tone, but rather with a sense of detached ease.

Zheng Qian spoke lightly, but the several workers standing next to him, covered in oil stains, curled their lips and showed no sign of a smile.

After news of Chen Yanshi's incident spread, the factory was in an uproar.

Some people remember his past kindness and feel that the old revolutionary had a hard life; some people think that one thing should be kept separate from another, and that past help cannot offset the hidden shareholding disputes; and some people simply don't want to get involved in these petty squabbles between powerful figures.

For ordinary people at the bottom of society, who becomes a high-ranking official or who goes to prison is not as important as what to eat for breakfast tomorrow.

They just want to know if those loud slogans they used to represent still count, and when their wages will finally be paid.

Zheng Xipo slammed down his son's phone, which was still recording, glared at him fiercely, and then respectfully led Sun Liancheng into the temporary office.

The office reeked of tobacco, and the desk was piled high with messy documents.

Sun Liancheng found a reasonably clean chair and sat down, while Xiao Wang, the accountant, huddled in the corner like a quail.

The situation became clear as soon as I asked.

It wasn't a task force that ordered the factory to be shut down; rather, a life-saving operating fund was "frozen" during the bank's review process.

The account was a complete mess, a jumble of normal sales revenue, old equity holdings, and all sorts of loans, making it even more chaotic than the initial state of chaos in the early stages of the Big Bang.

The banks were afraid of taking responsibility, fearing that the money would be linked to some corruption case, and dared not confirm which funds could be used; the companies, on the other hand, could not produce clear accounts, and their financial level was stuck in the last century.

Seeing this, the relevant departments simply started practicing Tai Chi together, their push-hands skills surpassing even those of Zhang Sanfeng, and unanimously demanded to "wait for the final audit conclusion."

The result was that no one openly said that wages should not be paid, after all, no one wanted to be branded as "driving workers to their deaths"; but no one dared to sign the loan slip either, after all, no one wanted to get into trouble at this critical juncture.

Sun Liancheng flipped through the bank's feedback, then looked at the report on the table, written by Zheng Xipo, which was eloquent and tear-jerking, entitled "Request for Coordination to Resolve All Difficulties." He casually tossed it aside, and the report flew through the air in a graceful parabola before landing precisely in the wastepaper basket.

"This thing is useless."

Sun Liancheng yawned, leaning lazily back in his chair as if he were about to fall asleep. "Old Zheng," he said, "you write down a whole bunch of difficulties, and all you get back is a whole bunch of principles. You try to appeal to their emotions, they talk about procedures; you try to explain procedures, they talk about policies. Isn't that like casting pearls before swine?"

Zheng Xipo was stunned: "Then...then District Chief Sun, oh no, Comrade Sun, what do you suggest we do?"

"Write it separately!"

Sun Liancheng tapped his fingers on the table, making a crisp sound. "Which payments are clean and straightforward, and which are old debts from the past? List out each payment clearly, one by one. Only after the accounts are clear can I inquire which rule is preventing the payment. As long as the money is clean, even the King of Heaven himself would have to reason with me."

Zheng Qian, standing to the side with a bitter face, said as if he had swallowed a bitter pill: "District Chief Sun, by the time we settle this messy account, it'll be too late, and the customer will have vanished without a trace! This is like trying to quench a thirsty thirst with water from afar!"

"So let's start with the most urgent one!"

Sun Liancheng glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Even if you make an Oscar-worthy documentary about playing the victim and take it to Cannes to win the Palme d'Or, you won't make a single penny. Instead, you'll just get your dad arrested and have his tea."

Once the accounts are verified and the clean money is separated, who would dare use "waiting for case closure" as a shield? I'll make them write down the reasons for the rejection in black and white. I want to see who has the guts to freeze legitimate income.

Upon hearing that there was hope, Zheng Xipo's eyes lit up. He immediately dragged the factory's old accountant over like a conscript and pulled out the dusty payroll sheets.

Several people were working diligently in the office.

Even Xiao Wang, the accountant, was forced by Sun Liancheng to join the accounting team. The only sounds in the office were the clatter of the abacus and the electronic "zeroing" of the calculator.

Sun Liancheng leisurely carried his thermos cup to the window and looked at the busy but bewildered workers outside.

Having lived most of his life, he had witnessed too many ups and downs in officialdom and had seen through the human tendency to seek profit and avoid harm.

He had long since chosen to remain indifferent to the misfortunes of many people.

He is not a hero, nor does he want to be one. He just wants to live a simple life and hopes that one day he can save enough money to buy a top-of-the-line radio telescope.

But the reason he was willing to come today was partly because Lao Zheng was a fairly honest person, and partly because he felt that this kind of game of using magic to defeat magic and using rules to deal with rules was quite interesting.

......

Two hours later, the accountant, covered in sweat, finally matched the first batch of clean sales revenue with the urgently needed wages.

Sun Liancheng glanced at the clear and concise report and nodded in satisfaction. He didn't make any promises about when he would receive the money; he wouldn't do something so foolish as to make such a huge commitment.

He sent the special application back to the task force only in front of them.

"Alright, leave the rest to me. You guys go do whatever you need to do." Sun Liancheng waved his hand and left Dafeng Factory with the exhausted Xiao Wang.

As evening fell, the setting sun, like blood, dyed the municipal party committee building in Jingzhou City a dark red.

This freshly submitted application sat quietly on Li Dakang's desk.

The spacious and bright office felt oppressively oppressive, making it hard to breathe.

Party Secretary Li Dakang was engrossed in reviewing documents, his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

The secretary, speaking softly and cautiously, said, "Secretary Li, the old accounts of Dafeng Factory are still under investigation, and the rights and interests of Comrade Chen Yanshi haven't been clarified yet. This is a sensitive time. The bank is very timid and cautious, and no department dares to express their opinion..."

After reading the materials, Li Dakang took a deep breath.

He was all too familiar with this so-called "caution".

In the past, if someone were this cautious and dared to pass the buck in front of him, he would have smashed the table and cursed them out.

But now the situation is tense, and the anti-corruption storm is making people in Handong Province very uneasy. Whenever the topic of investigation or historical issues comes up, he has to quickly withdraw his outstretched hand, for fear of getting even a little bit of mud on his hands.

Sun Liancheng sat calmly on the leather sofa opposite him, not urging him on, as if he were lost in thought.

He tilted his head slightly, looking at the chandelier on the ceiling, his mind already wandering to the Andromeda Galaxy tens of thousands of light-years away, pondering the question of whether extraterrestrial civilizations exist.