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

Three o'clock in the morning.

In his river-view penthouse, Fang Qiming, deputy secretary-general of the Handong Cultural Exchange Foundation, was awakened by a series of urgent yet restrained knocks on the door.

He was wearing a silk nightgown and slippers when he went to open the door, his hair a mess like a bird's nest.

As soon as the door opened, several unfamiliar faces wearing dark jackets stood outside. The leader was a young man in his early thirties who held up an ID card.

Xiao Lin from the petition team of the supervision group.

Fang Qiming's pupils suddenly contracted when he saw the words on the certificate.

But having served under the second young master of the Liang family and seen the world, his first reaction wasn't to ask what was wrong, but rather to instinctively take a half-step back.

"Can I...can I make a phone call first?"

Xiao Lin laughed, revealing a set of white teeth: "Secretary-General Fang, you're quite skilled at this, aren't you? You must practice in your head a lot, right? But it's the middle of the night, there's no signal in the service areas, so your call will be busy no matter who you call. Let's go, let's find another place to have tea."

Fang Qiming's face instantly turned deathly pale.

Cell phones were confiscated, computers were disconnected and sealed, and the mahogany filing cabinet in the study was sealed with white paper and black lettering.

The whole process was eerily quiet; there was no kicking of the door, no shouting, and not even the neighbors were disturbed.

But this is precisely what Fang Qiming fears most.

The people who came were not the familiar faces from the local discipline inspection commission in Handong that he could name. This meant that the intricate web that the Liang family had woven in Handong had been pierced by them with a single snip.

At the same time, in the villa of Wu Tiejun, director of the Provincial Art Appraisal Committee, another even more surreal drama was unfolding.

When Wu Tiejun was trapped at home, this self-proclaimed "close disciple of Zhang Daqian" frantically took down a painting from the wall and hugged it tightly to his chest, as if he were holding a newborn grandson.

Seeing his comical appearance, the discipline inspection cadre leading the team couldn't help but ask, "Director Wu, is this painting very expensive?"

Wu Tiejun's forehead was covered in sweat, and he stammered, "No...it's not expensive, it's just a souvenir, a gift from a friend."

"Then why are you holding it so tightly? Are you afraid it will grow legs and run away?"

After a long pause, Wu Tiejun finally managed to utter a single word: "Habit. I'm a bit shy when I sleep in unfamiliar places; I need to hold onto something."

Upon further investigation, it was discovered that this "inexpensive" souvenir was one of the items mentioned in the three false appraisal reports Gao Xiaoqin had mentioned, with a book value of 8.6 million yuan.

......

Eight o'clock in the morning, in the secret interview room of the Provincial Party Committee Guesthouse.

Fang Qiming's first round of conversation officially began.

He sat in the chair, his mind still racing even though he hadn't slept all night.

"Distinguished leaders, all of our foundation's projects are compliant, audited by third parties, and registered with the Department of Civil Affairs. Every single account is crystal clear," Fang Qiming said, trying to appear calm.

Zhou Zhengming sat opposite him, not even lifting his eyelids, and slammed the three copies onto the table with a "thud".

"The three paintings, numbered HD-2017-041, HD-2018-096, and HD-2019-112, had an overseas auction price equivalent to 23 million RMB. But once they were in your foundation's account, their estimated value skyrocketed to 230 million RMB."

Zhou Zhengming leaned forward, his gaze sharp as a knife. "Fang Qiming, that extra two hundred million—was it the artist who got up in the middle of the night to work on the painting, or was it your work?"

Fang Qiming's lips trembled slightly, and he forced a defense: "The value of a work of art is inherently highly subjective..."

"Subjective to ten times the profit?"

Xiao Lin sneered from the side, "Secretary-General Fang, if you used this kind of initiative on the printing press, the central bank would have to invite you to be its governor."

"It really is market volatility..."

"Don't try to pull that 'market' thing on me; even the market would feel wronged!"

Zhou Zhengming interrupted sharply, unceremoniously unleashing his psychological warfare trump card, "Wu Tiejun from the appraisal agency is already in the next room. He's a straightforward man; he even revealed details about that 8.6 million yuan 'souvenir.' He said the appraisal model and the final pricing range were all provided to him directly by your foundation!"

Fang Qiming's face instantly turned ashen.

This is obviously a scam.

Wu Tiejun next door was still there, quoting classical texts and discussing art history with the discipline inspection cadres.

But Fang Qiming didn't know that.

In a completely isolated conversation room, the information gap is a powerful weapon that can destroy psychological defenses.

Zhou Zhengming gave him no chance to breathe and continued to escalate the situation:

"Liang Wentao put you in charge of receiving Zhao Ruilong's so-called 'art donations,' using the foundation for pre-tax deductions, and then laundering and transferring this dirty money out through fake exhibitions, copyright licensing, and high-priced purchases of derivative products. Do you want me to give you a detailed account of the specific timelines when you contacted Gao Xiaoqin?"

Cold sweat dripped down Fang Qiming's forehead and nose.

He never dreamed that the supervisory team's knife would be not only swift,

And they cut so precisely. They completely bypassed the Liang family and directly seized his vital spot!

"I...I'm just an executor."

Fang Qiming's voice began to tremble, and he finally relented, "With such a large flow of funds in the foundation, major decisions are simply not something a deputy secretary-general like me can make."

"Who made the decision?" Zhou Zhengming pressed on.

Fang Qiming lowered his head, biting his lip tightly; that was his last shred of fear of the Liang family.

Zhou Zhengming sneered, took another document from Xiao Lin, and read aloud: "Fang Qiming, your son went to the UK last year to study for a master's degree in finance. The tuition and living expenses for the year amounted to 800,000 RMB."

This money was transferred directly from an offshore account registered in the Cayman Islands. Also, the purchase price of your wife's 12 million yuan street-front shop in the Eastern New District of Jingzhou was paid in three separate transactions through different shell companies. How do you explain this?

Fang Qiming suddenly raised his head, his breathing completely disordered, his chest heaving violently.

"Fang Qiming, your surname is Fang, not Liang."

Zhou Zhengming's tone suddenly became very flat, yet it carried a chilling undertone: "You're here holding the line for them, and Liang Wentao might at most praise you for being 'sensible' outside. But once you're in jail, your son might not even be able to get a decent job when he returns to China."

If you explain yourself clearly now, at least you can be considered a cooperative and tainted witness. Can't someone like you, who works in finance, understand this?

Fang Qiming could only hold on for less than a minute before collapsing completely into the chair, as if all his strength had been drained.

"It was...it was Liang Wentao who decided on it."

Fang Qiming's voice was hoarse. "Gao Xiaoqin handled the money for Zhao Ruilong. I contacted Wu Tiejun, the appraisal agency, but the price range was given to me directly by Liang Wentao's secretary."

He said... he said that for Handong's cultural industry to grow, its financial statements must look impressive in order to secure more policy subsidies and tax breaks.

"Where does the laundered money ultimately go?"

"A portion of the funds remained with the foundation for daily expenses, while the bulk was transferred to several cultural and media companies through exhibition service fees and cultural and creative development fees."

Who are the actual controllers of these companies?

Fang Qiming lowered his head very low, his voice barely audible: "It's... Liang Wentao's man."

enough.

That one sentence was enough to set the fire on the Liang family's doorstep.

Zhou Zhengming gestured to Xiaolin to pause the recording, then turned and strode out of the interview room, directly dialing Lu Chengzhou's private line.

"Secretary Lu, Fang Qiming vomited," Zhou Zhengming reported concisely.

On the other end of the phone, Lu Chengzhou's voice was completely calm: "Can the materials form a closed loop?"

"We can do half of it. We have the statements, but we still need to obtain bank statements and verify the evidence of nominee shareholdings by the actual controllers of those media companies."

"Keep digging. But remember, don't touch Liang Wentao right now."

Zhou Zhengming understood immediately: "I understand. Liang Wentao should already know that Fang Qiming is missing."

"That's good to know."

Lu Chengzhou said coldly, "What I want is to make him anxious, but not to let him run away. Tighten the net and let him struggle in it."

Liang Wentao did indeed find out.

Nine o'clock in the morning, at the Liang family villa in the provincial party committee's retired cadres compound.

Liang Wentao was sitting at the dining table, holding a bowl of oatmeal porridge in his hand.

The secretary called, saying that Fang Qiming had been unreachable since midnight, and that when they went to his home, the door was sealed off; when they called Wu Tiejun, his phone was also switched off.

The spoon in Liang Wentao's hand fell into the bowl with a "thud," splashing a few drops of porridge.

Liang Qunfeng, sitting in the main seat, put down his newspaper, his face instantly darkening, his cloudy yet sharp eyes fixed on his eldest son:

"What's the panic? Is the sky falling?"

"dad……"

Liang Wentao lowered his voice, his Adam's apple bobbing, "As for the foundation... Fang Qiming has been taken away. Wu Tiejun is probably in jail too."

Liang Lu sat next to her, slowly peeling a hard-boiled egg.

Hearing this, she sneered and threw the half-peeled egg onto the plate: "Oh, now you're scared? When Qi Tongwei died, weren't you all quite the strategists? Didn't you say you had everything under control?"

Liang Qunfeng whirled around, slamming his cane heavily on the ground: "Shut up!"

"Why should I shut up?"

Liang Lu's temper flared up as well. She glared at her father and two brothers. "I told you long ago not to scheme against Gao Yuliang with Sha Ruijin. Now that Qi Tongwei is dead, you all think he's bad luck and won't even go to collect his body! The day I signed the papers, the police shoved a body camera in my face. Do you know how humiliated I was?!"

Liang Qunfeng's face turned ashen. He pointed at Liang Lu's nose and yelled, "You think you're shameful? Isn't the Liang family's reputation ruined little by little because of you?!"

Hearing the argument as he came downstairs, Liang Wenjie became even more agitated: "Dad, is this the time to argue? If Fang Qiming can't take it and starts talking, my brother will be in big trouble! We need to find a way to get him out of there quickly!"

Looking at his two sons, Liang Qunfeng felt an overwhelming surge of anger and sorrow for the first time.

He was able to carve out a path for himself in the political arena of Handong when he was young because he was good at judging people and ruthless in his actions.

But his two sons, one greedy for elegance and the other greedy for cleverness, look more respectable than Zhao Ruilong, the son of Zhao Lichun who only knows how to spend money, but in fact they are all rotten mud at heart!

Even when accepting money, they need to put on a cultural facade. Do they really think the supervisors are pushovers?

"Rescue someone? What are you going to use to rescue them?!"

Liang Qunfeng roared in a low voice, "Who told you to make the foundation so big? You have plenty of money, and I've paved the way for you, but you still had to reach for that other thing! And what's with this art-related money laundering? Do you think Lu Chengzhou and Qin Yuanzhou are blind?!"

Liang Wentao, his neck stiff with resentment, retorted, "Dad, who in Handong hasn't done this all these years? There's always room for manipulation in cultural projects. Besides, if I don't take the money Zhao Ruilong offered, someone else will!"

"If someone else takes it and gets into trouble, that's their death! But if you take it and get into trouble, the entire Liang family will collapse!"

Liang Qunfeng slammed his hand on the table, making the bowls and chopsticks on the table rattle loudly.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Liang Qunfeng took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.

He knew that he absolutely could not afford to make a mess of things now.

"From now on, no one is allowed to move."

Liang Qunfeng reverted to his old fox-like gloom, "Wen Tao, immediately notify all senior executives of the foundation to maintain a unified message: all public welfare projects are compliant, art appraisals are conducted independently by a third party, and as an honorary director, you will not participate in specific operations."

Wenjie, your consulting firm is absolutely forbidden from returning to Shanghai, and you are strictly prohibited from contacting any of its financial staff!

Liang Wenjie's heart tightened, and he swallowed hard. "Dad, I haven't contacted him..."

Liang Qunfeng stared intently at him: "Also, don't touch anything in the safe in your study!"

Liang Wenjie's face changed drastically, and he looked at his father as if he had seen a ghost: "Dad...you...you knew all about it?"

"You think you can hide the shady things you've done from me?"

Liang Qunfeng gave a cold snort, "I don't want to get involved, I'm not blind!"

Liang Wenjie shrank back in fright, not daring to utter another word.

Liang Qunfeng stood up, leaning on his cane, his gaze deep: "Lu Chengzhou has just arrived in Handong, the supervisory team won't immediately overturn the table. Their arrest of Fang Qiming is a subtle probing, a test. Our only strategy now is to maintain stability. As long as the Liang family doesn't fall into chaos, they won't find any real weaknesses."

"Can it hold up?"

Liang Lu suddenly spoke in a low voice.

"Snapped!"

Liang Qunfeng slammed his hand hard on the table.

But he didn't curse anymore.

Liang Lu's words were like a poisonous thorn, precisely piercing the place he feared most.

......

2 PM, Provincial Party Committee Meeting Room No. 1.

Lu Chengzhou is holding a small-scale meeting.

After Zhou Zhengming gave a brief report on the preliminary interrogation results of Fang Qiming and Wu Tiejun, Lu Chengzhou picked up his thermos, took a sip of water, and said unhurriedly:

"Keep digging deeper into the foundation's story. But be careful with the pace. Right now, all the officials in the province are watching the provincial party committee compound. In the first week of the new secretary's term, no one knows whether he will seek stability or take a hard line."

Upon hearing this, Li Dakang felt it was a good opportunity to demonstrate his political awareness, so he immediately sat up straight and began to speak:

"Secretary Lu, I believe stability also requires deterrence! If we don't promptly and severely punish these parasites like foundations that use the guise of culture to engage in the transfer of benefits, those below will think we're just making empty promises and doing nothing!"

Lu Chengzhou glanced at Li Dakang, put down his thermos, and said calmly, "I only agree with half of what Comrade Dakang said today."

Li Dakang's heart skipped a beat.

"Deterrence is necessary, of course, but we can't disrupt the overall rhythm for the sake of deterrence. Comrade Dakang, when you were working in Jingzhou before, some of your problems stemmed from your excessive reliance on 'speed.' Speed ​​can sometimes be efficient, but sometimes it can also be crude and leave lasting consequences." Lu Chengzhou's words, though not harsh, sent chills down Li Dakang's spine.

Li Dakang was completely speechless after being told off, and could only nod repeatedly: "Secretary Lu's criticism is correct, I will definitely reflect on it deeply."

Sitting opposite him, Liu Ruian casually offered a suggestion: "Secretary Lu, I think it would be better to do this. We can deal with the peripheral personnel first, issue a public notice, but without naming the Liang family. This is called 'striking a warning shot.' It sends a signal that the Provincial Party Committee is strictly investigating collusion between officials and businessmen, and also gives all cadres in the province a clear expectation: the separation of officials and businessmen is not just empty talk."

A hint of approval flashed in Lu Chengzhou's eyes: "Comrade Rui'an's suggestion is good. Killing without shedding blood has a greater deterrent effect."

Zhou Zhengming then chimed in, "Then I suggest that the Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection issue a notice tonight to investigate the suspected transfer of benefits by relevant personnel of the Handong Cultural Exchange Foundation, and at the same time launch a special audit of all cultural foundations in the province."

Tian Guofu immediately stated, "The Discipline Inspection Commission has no problem; we'll handle it right away."

Lu Chengzhou turned to Li Dakang: "As the provincial capital, Jingzhou should set an example. Those private clubs that are all show and no substance should be shut down."

Li Dakang quickly seized the opportunity to salvage the situation, replying decisively: "I'll issue the order this afternoon! A simultaneous crackdown on private clubs like mountain resorts and estates will be carried out in Jingzhou. All private drinking parties and gatherings for personal gain between officials and businessmen will be strictly investigated! Anyone who dares to defy the rules will be stripped of their position!"

Lu Chengzhou nodded in satisfaction: "This fire can be lit."

That evening, the official announcement from the Handong Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection was released on time.

The report made no mention of the Liang family, but the words "Handong Cultural Exchange Foundation," "abnormal appraisal of artworks," "high-priced service procurement," and "related transactions between relatives of leading cadres" were enough to send chills down the spines of those in the know in Handong's officialdom.

Jingzhou also launched a swift and decisive operation overnight.

Several high-end private clubs, usually hidden in deep alleys and displaying signs such as "Entrepreneurs Club" and "Cultural Salon," were sealed off by a joint enforcement action by the public security and industry and commerce departments, and ordered to cease operations for rectification.

Overnight, the atmosphere in the officialdom of Handong underwent a complete 180-degree turn.

Xiao Lin, scrolling through his phone, chuckled as he complained to Zhou Zhengming, "Team Leader Zhou, last night these guys were all financiers and wine connoisseurs, showing off their Cohiba cigars and Romanée-Conti. But tonight, after the announcement, wow, they've all become fitness bloggers and book bloggers. They're either out for a night run or showing off their copy of 'Das Kapital'."

Zhou Zhengming glanced at him, a cold smile playing on his lips: "They don't love reading; they're afraid of being written into the news. That's what they call poverty limiting our imagination, but discipline protecting their safety."

At the same time, in the special needs ward of the provincial hospital.

Gao Yuliang leaned against the rocking hospital bed, watching the news report from the Discipline Inspection Commission broadcast on television.

A slight smile appeared on his slightly stiff face.

"Liang Qunfeng will probably need sleeping pills to close his eyes tonight," Gao Yuliang said softly.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Wu Huifen stopped what she was doing and asked with some worry, "What do you think that old fox will do next?"

Gao Yuliang closed his eyes, the image of Liang Qunfeng's gloomy face flashing in his mind. He uttered a few words with certainty: "Use old connections to put in a good word, use the stability of Handong as an excuse, feign illness to go to the hospital to gain sympathy, or write a letter to Beijing to plead your case. Choose one of the four."

"Which one is most likely?" Wu Huifen asked.

Gao Yuliang opened his eyes: "A person who is about to drown won't make a choice. He will use all four of these methods."