Nominal: Hou Liangping blocking the door? He was slapped away!

When the expanded meeting ended, there was a traffic jam at the entrance of the auditorium for a while.

More than a thousand people walked out, their footsteps chaotic, but their mouths were even more disorderly. They huddled together in twos and threes, speaking in hushed tones, but their eyes darted around rapidly.

"Did you see that? Secretary Shen slammed his medal on the table."

"I heard that noise even though I was sitting in the eighth row; the teacup lid jumped up."

"Did you notice Secretary Sha's expression? I was sitting close by, and his face—tsk."

"Governor Liu went even further, directly stating that it was biased; those four words were more ruthless than a slap in the face."

A deputy mayor from Luzhou pulled the person next to him toward the parking lot, shaking his head as they walked.

"I've been an official for twenty years, and this is the first time I've ever seen someone do this to the top leader in front of all the cadres in the province."

The man next to him shrank back. "He has the credentials. His medals are there, what can Secretary Sha say?"

Normally, no one would dare to say such things. But today is different. More than a thousand people witnessed the provincial party secretary being humiliated; this kind of thing can't be suppressed, nor is it necessary to suppress.

The news spread faster than a car wheel could turn.

That afternoon, the underground public opinion in Handong's officialdom exploded. From provincial government agencies to local governments, from the Organization Department to the Propaganda Department, cell phones rang incessantly. No one dared to send text messages; everyone was making phone calls, hanging up after each call before dialing the next.

Someone remarked on the phone.

"In Handong, the provincial party secretary can't control the military region political commissar. What kind of situation is that?"

Some people sneered.

"It would be a miracle if they could control him. Zhao Lichun was a local tyrant for over a decade, but in the end, he was taken down by Shen Zhong. Sha Ruijing came here, but he hasn't even established a firm foothold yet. What makes him think he can compete with them?"

Others put it even more bluntly.

"Now I finally understand who's in charge in Handong."

These words reached Kyoto in less than four hours.

Kyoto. A high-end residential area.

Zhong Xiaoai sat in the study, a cup of coffee that had gone cold beside her.

The phone in front of her was on speakerphone, and on the other end was an old classmate from the propaganda department of the provincial party committee in Handong. This person was her classmate in university, and after graduation, he was assigned to Handong, where he worked for twenty years and rose to the rank of deputy director. They didn't keep in touch much normally, but when Zhong Xiaoai needed information, she could summon him with just one phone call.

"...and just like that, he slammed it on the table. It was a military medal, the kind with a scarlet cover. Secretary Sha's face turned green, and the rest of us sitting in the back didn't dare to breathe."

"and then?"

"Then Secretary Sha said, 'We'll study this in a separate study later,' and that was it."

Zhong Xiaoai remained silent.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, then another sentence was added. "Xiao Ai, to tell you the truth, Shen Zhong is someone no one dares to mess with in Handong right now. Zhao Lichun is gone, Sha Ruijin has arrived, but in the end, he's still the one in charge. If you still want—"

"Okay, I understand."

She hung up the phone.

The study fell silent. The curtains were drawn, and only the desk lamp was on.

Zhong Xiaoai picked up her coffee and took a sip; it was cold and bitter. She didn't pay it any mind.

Heavy.

It was heavy again.

The night she heard the news of Hou Liangping's investigation, she sat in this study all night. The next day, her grandfather, Old Master Zhong, sent someone to deliver a message, the meaning of which was very clear—cut ties with Hou Liangping completely and not drag the entire Zhong family down.

She did as she was told. She outwardly did as she was told.

But I never swallowed my anger for even a day.

As the deputy director of the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection, she sent people to Handong to arrest Ding Yizhen, only to have Shen Zhong beat her to it. She didn't get the credit for the arrest; instead, she became a laughingstock—after the news spread, several officials of similar rank in Beijing greeted her with that subtle smile.

That kind of laughter is more painful than being insulted.

Zhong Xiaoai stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and opened the bottom drawer.

There was a brown paper bag in the drawer. The seal was still on, and four characters were handwritten on it: "Handong Special Project".

She had been preparing this for almost a month.

She didn't do it alone. She had help from people within the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection system; she managed to get a copy of every document that could be obtained from the discipline inspection and supervision departments.

Open the kraft paper bag, and you'll find a thick stack of printed documents.

The title on the first page is straightforward and unambiguous: "Report on Comrade Shen Zhong of the Handong Provincial Military Region's Suspected Abuse of Military Power and Interference in Local Infrastructure Projects by Taking Advantage of His Spouse's Position."

Turn to the second page.

The content is divided into three sections.

Section One: A detailed timeline of Shen Zhong's overreach in enforcing the law by using military force in the Zhao Lichun case. This includes the interception of a civilian airliner, the forced entry of armored vehicles into an oil and gas group, and the direct detention of the provincial party secretary by the military—each item is accompanied by dates and the unit numbers involved.

The second section contains records of Shen Zhong allocating building materials and engineering vehicles through the military region's logistics system during He Xia's work on flood control projects in Lüzhou. These records are genuine, but they have been deliberately distorted—what was originally a normal collaboration between the military and civilians has been portrayed in this document as "using military resources to fund his wife's political achievements project."

The third section contains a copy of an anonymous whistleblower letter, accusing Shen Zhong of running a "one-man show" within the military region, excluding dissidents, and turning the military region into his personal sphere of influence.

The whistleblower letter was written by someone she hired.

Zhong Xiaoai went through the materials again to make sure there were no mistakes or omissions.

Can these things withstand scrutiny? No, they can't.

But she doesn't need to withstand scrutiny. She just needs someone to use this document to confront Shen Zhong head-on.

Whether the investigation is successful or not is a matter for later. The important thing is to first ignite the conflict.

Sha Ruijin.

Today, at the enlarged meeting in front of all the cadres in the province, Shen Zhong slammed his fist on the table. How could he swallow this insult?

Zhong Xiaoai understands these parachuted-in officials all too well. The stronger their backing, the less they can stand being bullied on their own turf. If Sha Ruijin could tolerate it, he wouldn't have launched an attack on Shen Zhong on his very first day in office.

He couldn't stand it.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Zhong Xiaoai picked up her phone, found a number without a name in the contacts, and dialed it.

It rang three times before the other end answered.

"The items are ready. Can they be delivered tomorrow?"

"Where to send it?"

"Provincial Party Secretary's Office. Use the internal passageway, leave no trace."

There was a two-second silence on the other end. "Sister Ai, about this—"

"Stop talking nonsense. Can you do it or not?"

"……able."

Zhong Xiaoai hung up the phone.

She resealed the brown paper bag and put it back in the drawer.

tomorrow.

The latest will be the day after tomorrow.

This document will then appear on Sha Ruijin's desk.

A provincial party secretary who had just lost face in front of the entire province suddenly found himself facing a ready-made knife.

Will he answer?

Zhong Xiaoai leaned back in her chair, her hands resting on the armrests, her fingernails lightly scratching two lines on the leather surface.

赌。

Du Sha Ruijin couldn't swallow this insult.