Chapter 2700

Xiangjun Yu took his people and left, and Hongbin Fang came back yawning. He had just lain down on the folding wire bed and fallen asleep when he was awakened by a knock on the door. He was already sleep-deprived, and just as he had fallen asleep, he was woken up—this miserable feeling need not be described.

As soon as he entered, he saw the near-dead Sanmao Wen, and his anger flared up instantly. Damn it, Xiangjun Yu had been here less than three hours, and you already confessed. I've been wasting three days here, you dog, and you've been practicing Tai Chi the whole time—do you really think I'm a vegetarian?

Fang Hongbin walked behind Sanmao Wen, first took a deep breath, then slowly raised his right hand, gritted his teeth, summoned all his strength, leapt into the air, and used the tremendous impact generated by his downward fall to swing his palm high and bring it down hard on Sanmao Wen's bald head.

This sudden slap was crisp and pleasant-sounding; it caught Sanmao Wen off guard, his head snapping forward as if struck by a heavy hammer, then he slid off the chair and fell to his knees with a thud, his head pressed to the ground, motionless.

Sanmao Wen's three souls and seven spirits seemed to have fled his body—he had completely lost consciousness. Gradually, the oily, shiny shine on his forehead began to show five fresh red blood marks.

"Chief!" Old Liu came over to Sanmao Wen, crouched down to look at him, and said: "This slap—you won't have beaten him to death, will you?"

"How could that be!" Fang Hongbin snapped angrily: "If I could kill Sanmao Wen with one slap, could I still be a measly police station chief?"

At that moment, Sanmao Wen let out a groan from his mouth. As his consciousness gradually returned, he felt dizzy, the whole world spinning, his stomach churning—he wanted to vomit but couldn't bring anything up.

After another ten or so minutes, Sanmao Wen finally came to, looking at Fang Hongbin with eyes full of confusion, because he didn't know why he had been hit.

"Damn it!" Fang Hongbin cursed: "Sanmao Wen, I've been dragging this out with you for three days, and you've been playing Tai Chi with me the whole time. Xiangjun Yu came for only three hours, and you've already confessed everything you should and shouldn't. What's the matter—are you looking down on me, Fang Hongbin?"

Sanmao Wen wanted to cry—was it that he didn't want to speak? Six years ago, the rape and murder case had nothing to do with him; if it did, it was only because he had brought Yin Mingxing to the Scarred Man's place.

So, if he insisted on not speaking, it would be stubbornness met with severity, plus the Scarred Man's false accusation, and he would die miserably. If he confessed honestly and clearly, he could clear himself, even earn merit, and possibly get a lighter sentence—even a fool knows which choice to make. But smuggling is different—he really was involved, and admitting it might get him killed.

Sanmao Wen raised his handcuffed hands and rubbed his head hard: "Chief Fang, I've said everything I need to say—what else do you want me to say?"

Fang Hongbin gave a cold laugh: "Don't give me that bullshit, I'm telling you—Hongjin Yan has already started confessing. You tell me—will she rat you out?"

Sanmao Wen's heart tightened, and then Fang Hongbin continued: "If you confess honestly now, it's still not too late. But once Hongjin Yan finishes her confession and Heilongjiang Province sends word, you'll have no chance left. In court, it'll be strict and severe—you won't escape a bullet."

"Pap pap pap…"

The interrogation room door was knocked, Old Liu turned and opened it, and saw colleague Xiao Feng'er: "Xiao Feng'er, why did you come over?"

Xiao Feng'er handed Old Liu a document: "Brother Liu, this is the fax from Heilongjiang Province—Zhigbroad Liu's smuggling gang has already confessed."

Old Liu's eyes lit up, and Fang Hongbin laughed: "Wen Liang, this is your last chance. If you still resist, I'll stop interrogating you.

Besides, I have another piece of good news to tell you. The crackdown is about to begin—if you're sentenced before it starts, you still have a slim chance of survival. But if you drag it out until the crackdown begins, even without the smuggling case, just based on the heinous things you've done, you're still a dead man walking."

Fang Hongbin took the file bag Old Liu handed him, opened it, pulled out the documents—about ten or so pages, not thick—and began to flip through them. Suddenly, the interrogation room fell into a terrifying silence.

Sanmao Wen stared fixedly at the documents Fang Hongbin was flipping through; he felt his throat itch, wanted to cough but dared not, so he could only keep swallowing his saliva.

After about half an hour, Fang Hongbin finally closed the file, then looked at Sanmao Wen: "Wen Liang, Zhigbroad Liu has already confessed. He gave you a $200,000 deposit, promised that after smuggling clothes to Russia, he'd give you fifty percent of the profits, settled in US dollars, right?"

As soon as Sanmao Wen heard that, he knew the documents in Fang Hongbin's hand were genuine—like a deflated balloon, his previously straight back suddenly collapsed.

"I'll confess…"

Fang Hongbin smiled, raised his hand and waved: "Old Liu, take notes."

……………………

At 4:30 p. m., the first day of the symposium ended, the big shots came down from the stage, first chatted with Zhou Andong for a few words, then hurriedly left with their entourage.

At noon, those who hadn't had a chance to meet Zhou Andong swarmed over all at once—even Xiangxiang Chun didn't escape.

Looking at Zhou Andong surrounded by the crowd, Lian Xiangzhi, standing on the outskirts, let out a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and turned to leave.

Lian Xiangzhi was also followed by quite a few people; seeing him leave, some followed him, while others hesitated a moment, then took out their business cards from their briefcases and squeezed into the crowd surrounding Zhou Andong.

After twenty or so minutes, Zhou Andong and Xiangxiang Chun finally broke free, and each of them held a thick stack of business cards in their hands—especially Zhou Andong's stack, which numbered no less than 150, possibly over 200.

"Phew!" After leaving the conference hall, Zhou Andong stood outside, took out a cigarette from his pocket, tossed one to Xiangxiang Chun, then lit one for himself and exhaled a long breath.

Xiangxiang Chun said with a smile: "Today I've been riding on your coattails, Andong—I've also collected quite a few business cards."

"Cut it out!" Zhou Andong said impatiently: "You've been the richest man for three straight years—normally people want to see you but can't. Using the symposium as an opportunity to hand you a business card is completely normal."

As the two were chatting, Cao Zhenyu, head of the Township Enterprises Bureau, Wang Maoqun of Haier, and Maxian Li approached, with a few people beside them—exactly the same people they had run into in the lobby on the first floor of Jinwan Hotel the previous night.

Zhou Andong greeted them one by one; compared to the night before, everyone was now much more familiar, and conversation flowed naturally and casually.

Cao Zhenyu looked at Zhou Andong and said jokingly: "Director Zhou, you all came from afar as guests—I should be playing host, but I'm just an ordinary civil servant serving the people, with no money to entertain guests. So, this hosting duty can only fall to you. Where to drink—you pick the place, and we'll follow."

"No problem!" Zhou Andong readily agreed: "First stop—the bar behind Houhai. You go ahead first; I still have two friends who haven't shown up—I'll wait for them a bit."

Wang Maoqun said: "Besides the reporters packing up their equipment, there's no one else."

Zhou Andong said with a smile: "Those two friends of mine are reporters."

"Andong!" Ye Zhen came out from the washroom in the corridor, saw Zhou Andong and his group still standing at the conference hall entrance without leaving, and hurried over: "Are you all going out together for drinks?"

Cao Zhenyu's gaze swept over Ye Zhen and Zhou Andong, then he said: "Comrade Ye Zhen, if there's nothing else, shall we go out for a drink together?"

Ye Zhen wanted to refuse, but his mouth moved faster than his mind and said: "Sure, I've got nothing going on tonight—I'll go out with you guys for a few drinks."