Chapter 154

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

Luo Xiaoshan was as good as his word, moving with astonishing speed.

Land worth six or seven hundred million — just let a little slip through his fingers and it was enough for that Er Ahong to eat and drink his fill for life.

This was also why the Luo father and son were willing to put up the capital.

They never intended to make money from the demolition in the first place, even prepared to take a loss; this kind of silver bullet offensive, no one could resist.

No matter how much that Er Ahong boasted about his own prowess, ultimately he was just a 40-year-old man who had spent over twenty years cooped up in a temple, sneaking around just to find a woman; give him a sum enough to secure his livelihood and he would instantly toss doctrine and faith aside.

That evening, after serving until the man's belly was slick, Secretary Huang stuffed an envelope into his car and said: "Ahong, two round-trip first-class tickets to Dubai, please go attend an international conference. The invitation letter is inside too."

He couldn't even remember the fabricated conference name, so he just glossed over it in a single sentence.

Er Ahong smiled with understanding, stomped the accelerator, and the Audi A6 took off like a shot.

Behind them, Father Luo lectured his son: "Gift-giving requires finding the weak point. Their Da Ahong is dying soon, old, not short of money, wants a posthumous reputation — so bribery won't work. This Er Ahong is just over 40, at the age wanting a second spring; smashing his 20 years of struggle with money won't cost too much. But the cheapest way is still to make him an official — this guy has a terrible craving for office, so that Jiangning City Political Consultative Committee Member position is the breakthrough to pry him open..."

Luo Xiaoshan looked thoughtful, but soon turned back to business: "Then when he returns from Dubai, we'll pressure him to propose the demolition at the Management Committee?"

The Management Committee is short for Democratic Management Committee, equivalent to a board of directors without equity for the temple.

Father Luo said: "Why let him off that easy? Tomorrow morning you come again, force him to propose it immediately. Once he's back from Dubai, demolition should formally begin."

Real estate enterprises fight for every second; he was also consciously grooming his son.

The fat man hesitated: "What if he disagrees?"

Father Luo hmphed: "If he dares disagree, say we'll find someone to oust him at the Management Committee first. Daring to pocket several hundred thousand in bribes — what qualifications does he have to negotiate terms?"

"Intimidation, I'm a pro at." Luo Xiaoshan swung his thick arms.

Father Luo added: "If he agrees, we can buy him a property in Dubai, or diamonds, whatever he wants, around 10 million."

"Understood." Luo Xiaoshan snapped his fingers, the sound crisp and sharp.

10 million — no matter where, it's a figure that can kill a man.

Although he often saw donations of tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, even millions. But Er Ahong still took home a salary of 3,600 yuan a month.

Counting only salary, he would need 2,777 months to earn that much.

Even if he could use the temple's car, attend different banquets daily, live in a downtown high-rise rent-free — that still couldn't compare to his own money.

So Er Ahong made a clear-headed decision.

At noon on the third day, Ma Ahong, newly elected as a Jiangning Municipal CPPCC member, arrived early at the Council Hall and then silently waited for all procedures to conclude.

When Lao Ahong tremulously said "If there's nothing else, let's adjourn," everyone was ready to leave, Er Ahong suddenly stood up and said: "I have a proposal."

"Oh." Lao Ahong looked like he was dying of illness, but his cloudy eyeballs flashed a glint of sharpness.

"I have a proposal." Er Ahong likewise rolled his eyeballs, scrutinizing the nine members at the conference table.

Lao Ahong merely nodded, too lazy to speak.

Er Ahong looked immensely pleased with himself and said: "Jianshe Road is now Jiangning's core district, office buildings going up all around, housing prices soaring; our temple has recruited fewer and fewer new believers these years. Many believers of modest means have had to move out. Lately I've been thinking — more and more luxury compounds, yet fewer and fewer residents; if this continues, our flock will plummet."

"Oh?" Lao Ahong lifted his head, mood displeased.

"My proposal: move to Dongjiao, sell the Jianshe Road land, use the money for all kinds of propaganda — sure to make our reputation resound even louder."

An ending that was like a speech yet not a speech, yet it drew bursts of applause.

Lao Ahong didn't even lift an eyelid, as if asleep.

The applause faltered a moment, but quickly resumed.

Just as Er Ahong had said two days prior: the Ahong is old, done for, someone has to replace him eventually. Whoever achieves great things gets the position.

Ma Ahong, just promoted to CPPCC member, still carried weight when he spoke.

If he rises, I become the Ahong who followed the dragon from the start.

"Dongjiao has even fewer believers." The moment Lao Ahong spoke, the applause stopped.

Thirty years of prestige in office cannot be erased by a sentence or two.

In the past, faced with such explicit opposition, Er Ahong would have shut up long ago.

But thinking of the 500,000 stuffed in his pocket, the two small gold bars, the direct flight to Dubai — Er Ahong persisted: "I think we should fully exercise democracy, convene the believers to discuss, and also solicit opinions from higher supervisory departments."

Er Ahong was a religious-studies university graduate; he spoke with method — democracy and such are all fake, soliciting higher supervisory departments' opinions is the real thing.

"Should solicit opinions indeed." Another Ahong immediately stepped forward to second.

Even the smallest place has its cliques; the five of them, local university graduates, treated being an Ahong as a profession and career. Tradition, faith, and the like — all to be placed after career.

Seeing Er Ahong on the right track, becoming a CPPCC member, everyone's thoughts naturally shifted.

Lao Ahong slowly turned his head, thinking.

He was nearly 80, his mind long unable to keep up, but on the big picture he was still quite clear.

However, Ma Ahong, who had schemed this long, was no lamb waiting for slaughter either.

Taking advantage of Lao Ahong's silence, he suddenly stood and said: "Actually I speak for the believers; I'll invite a few people in, let them voice their own thoughts."

Thus he brought in the three people waiting outside, also bypassing Lao Ahong's direct opposition again.

Meticulous preparation, like a sap, left the Ahongs in the Council Hall unable to respond accurately.

Dark clouds dense over the temple, yet outside the sun shone bright.

On the fresh green ground of Feihong Golf Course in Jiangbei, three men in plaid shirts were leisurely swinging clubs.

This is a members' club; anyone who gets inside can't help bringing friends to play a couple rounds — not caring if it's fun, the key is low-key showing off spirit.

Compared to things like platinum credit cards, it better displays noble lifestyle taste.

The manager came hurrying over.

The tall man standing in the middle immediately waved his hand and said, "Handsome, get my friend a caddie, it's his first time here."

"Mr. Qiu." The manager took out a white handkerchief, wiped his sweatless forehead, and forced a smile: "Sorry, the clubhouse has some matters today."

"What, no caddies?" Mr. Qiu immediately raised his eyebrows and began berating loudly and forcefully.

He had brought his own caddie, but losing his temper — wasn't that even more able to show off his airs?

The friends who came with him were also watching with hearty laughter, looking like they were leaving it all to him.

The manager apologized repeatedly, yet said: "It's not a caddie problem; today the clubhouse has already been booked out entirely."

"My people have all arrived, and you tell me the clubhouse is booked?" Although he was extremely displeased, and with good reason, Mr. Qiu's voice instead returned to normal.

Members of Feihong Golf Course were either rich or noble, receiving over a hundred people daily. To book it out, not only would one have to shell out a hundredfold the money, one would probably also need considerably high social status.

Of course, bullying the service staff a bit to win back some face was still no problem.

The manager swallowed the insult, and with ample preparation and a good mindset, gave Mr. Qiu enjoyment no less than golf.

The latter sighed and finally spoke his closing words: "You've got it tough too; what's the background of the one who booked the venue?"

"People from the Jiangning Chen Family."

Just as they spoke, a massive pickup truck passed through the main gate, "roar-roar"ing as it charged toward the fairway.

Along the way, the crushed turf trembled, green grass sods continuously tossed up and fell down, as if seeing off the pickup's departure.

Mr. Qiu was stunned, speaking incoherently: "What's going on?"

The manager said softly: "They're here to test drive. They're on very good terms with the boss; said they'd relay the ruined turf, and look, a crew of workers just came yesterday."

"Test drive on a golf course?" Mr. Qiu, who worked at a foreign enterprise, simply couldn't understand such behavior no matter what.

"Supposedly for the good environment." As the manager spoke he wanted to leave; he still had to go explain to others.

Right then, a man in a black suit, in his twenties, up ahead suddenly flew into a rage; a slap loudly knocked over the foreman who was chatting quietly: "I just bought my membership, and you say I can't play? Why do I have to drive a golf cart while they drive an off-roader in? Bullying me for having no money, huh?"

The manager was at his wits' end; at hundred-meter sprint speed he ran over, ignoring the foreman groaning on the ground, and shouted with full vigor: "Mr. Qian, Mr. Qian, wait, wait, don't be anxious."

The black suit ignored him completely, got into a Volvo XC90, and rammed straight through the double-layer floor-to-ceiling glass with a crash-clatter, chasing after that pickup.

The manager froze, thinking it was over.

On the empty golf course, Chen Yi's left hand rested on the steering wheel, right hand tightly gripping the handbrake, using it to restrict the speed of the little lizard frolicking about.

This thing ran extremely fast while shouting at the top of its lungs: "Only this kind of environment allows comfortable cultivation. Oh yeah, let me die on this prairie."

Chen Yi also laughed loudly, rolled down the window, letting the grass-scented wind blow in; after a while, he said: "Spit out the Knight Spear for me.

"Yes."

A sharp spearhead extended from the front of the Raptor F150, reflecting a metallic luster.

Huanlong accompanied by honking, shouted: "My baby! 6-meter Knight Spear debuts!"

A full 6-meter-long Knight Spear forged from high-manganese steel extended entirely out, continuously swaying up and down.

The speed was considerably fast.

This high-manganese steel Knight Spear just swallowed into the Raptor, able to withstand intense impact and extrusion, through Grendel's tactical design, it can appear at any part of the Raptor.

"My spear, so thick and long! So thick and long!"

The little lizard called out a couple lines, then suddenly said: "A vehicle's coming up from behind."