Chapter 191 Things Have Changed (1/2)

Beijing City.

A windowless basement, the dampness of rust and mold felt like countless cold needles, desperately trying to pierce into the bones.

A man stood silently in the shadows.

Wearing a Zhongshan suit, with an average face, he'd disappear into a crowd in the blink of an eye.

His name is Qi Chuan, and he is the judge of this underground kingdom.

His gaze fell on the ground.

The woman, Jia Ximei, or rather, Ximei Xizi, was kneeling in an extremely humiliating posture, her forehead pressed tightly against the cold, rough cement floor, her teeth chattering slightly.

In front of her was an open combination lock box.

The box was empty.

Qi Chuan remained silent, his face devoid of any extra expression.

He just stared at it expressionlessly, his eyes devoid of warmth, as if he were not a living person, but a statue carved from the Siberian permafrost.

Sometimes, extreme silence is more devastating than any form of torture.

Xi Meizi felt as if the blood in her entire body was freezing into ice inch by inch in this deathly silence.

She knew that any explanation would be pointless.

In this organization, losers are considered trash.

But there's only one fate for the useless.

Finally, Qi Chuan made a move.

He didn't speak, but simply waved gently at the shadow behind him.

The movement was so casual, like brushing a speck of dust off one's shoulder.

But this very action caused Xi Meixi's blood to rush backward instantly, and a chilling despair exploded from her tailbone, shooting straight to the top of her head!

From the shadows, two men dressed in ordinary work clothes emerged silently, like ghosts.

They walked over to Ximei-Xizi, one on each side, and lifted her up like a tattered sack, lifting her up directly.

The entire process was eerily quiet.

Xi Meixi bit her lip hard, the strong taste of blood filling her mouth.

Her feet dragged on the rough cement floor, making a harsh, screeching sound. She could clearly sense what awaited her next.

But she didn't dare utter a single word of begging for mercy.

She knew that here, even the right to scream was a luxury.

The heavy iron gate was opened and then closed again.

The basement fell silent again, as if death had returned.

Qi Chuan remained standing in the same spot, as if nothing had happened.

He looked down at the empty briefcase, then lifted his foot and gently hooked it with his toe.

With a muffled thud, the box was kicked into the corner, crashed into a pile of rubbish, and then fell silent.

………………………………

The darkness and bloodshed in Beijing have not yet affected the distant lands of Changbai Mountain and Heilongjiang Province.

The fifth day of the Lunar New Year is called "Breaking Five".

According to old tradition, the New Year celebrations are not truly over until today.

After being cooped up for several days, the members of Jixiang Brigade were finally able to go out and about, and the commune's market was bustling with activity again, taking advantage of the last bit of the New Year's atmosphere.

An Sanchuan mingled in the bustling crowd, his gloomy and tired face standing out from the cheerful commune members around him.

He ignored the vendors hawking frozen pears and persimmons at the top of their lungs, and also avoided the stalls selling needles and thread.

His eyes, like those of a wolf searching for prey, swept inch by inch across the crowd.

Soon, he spotted his target.

A man was squatting and smoking against the wall of the supply and marketing cooperative.

The man was wearing an ill-fitting old cotton-padded jacket, his eyes were dull, and he was puffing on a pungent, cheap cigarette. The smoke made it impossible to see his face.

An Sanchuan's breath hitched for a moment.