Chapter 1017

After finishing the phone call with Gao Yicheng.

Immediately afterwards.

Lin Dongfan called Sun Section Chief of the Wuzhou Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection Room Three again, telling him, "Meng Qinghe is trying to escape—bring your team and have the search warrant ready; wait for me."

From the detention point of the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection to Meng Qinghe's home, which normally takes half an hour by car, Lin Dongfan drove in racing mode and reached the residential complex's gate in fifteen minutes.

The car had just come to a stop.

Sun Section Chief of the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection Room Three waited by the roadside with his people, tightly clutching a briefcase under his arm, his face ashen like a primary school student who had just been criticized in a notice.

Mayor Lin, the search warrant is ready and the team is assembled!

Sun Section Chief stepped forward briskly, not daring to be negligent in the slightest, since the person they were to arrest was the Executive Vice Mayor; at his level, he wouldn't dare act without Mayor Lin Dongfan backing him up.

Lin Dongfan pushed open the door and got out of the car.

Speaking calmly, he said: "Meng Qinghe obtained a fake passport; he's definitely planning to flee. Your boss is busy interrogating Fu Xinping and can't get away. Today is your big chance to make a name for yourself—don't chicken out."

Hmm.

Sun Section Chief nodded quickly and led his people to follow closely behind Lin Dongfan.

In Meng Qinghe's villa, smoke and fire swirled about. An iron bucket stood in the middle of the hall, practically overflowing with 'incense.' To the uninformed, it looked as if he were honoring his ancestors.

What he was burning wasn't spirit money.

It was real cash!

Under the intense heat, sweat droplets fell like beads from a broken string. Nearby lay stacks of cash totaling over three million yuan, and Meng Qinghe was frantically throwing them into the iron bucket.

Stacks of red bills instantly curled into ashes in the blaze.

Smoke and ash filled the entire room.

Damn it! This is all money—my hard‑earned cash!

Watching the bills turn to ash in the flames, Meng Qinghe's face showed an anguish as if his heart were being cut.

He muttered curses under his breath.

His hands didn't stop, tossing stack after stack of bills into the fire: "If I'd known it would end like this, I wouldn't have bothered being greedy at all! Damn it, all for nothing…"

The iron bucket was already half‑filled with ash, while several bundles of unburned cash lay scattered on the floor, amounting to at least several hundred thousand yuan.

Keep throwing!

When he threw the last bundle of cash into the bucket, his eyes fell on the scroll on the sofa, and he felt a fresh pang of pain—this was an authentic Tang Bohu painting!

It is said that Peng Xianjun originally acquired this painting from the market, and its value is immeasurable.

Later, Peng Xianjun declared the painting a fake and sold it to Fu Xinping for one yuan. Afterwards, Fu Xinping, seeking promotion to vice mayor, reluctantly gave the painting to the Meng household.

Peng Xianjun had already died in a car accident, leaving no one to contradict him, so the painting could have been kept.

But the situation has changed now that Fu Xinping has been arrested—he could start talking at any moment! This painting is now a time‑bomb; it must be burned.

What a sin!

A priceless masterpiece worth tens of millions is being destroyed in my hands, Meng Qinghe...

Meng Qinghe seized the scroll, hesitated a moment, then gritted his teeth and threw it into the fire.

The rice paper caught fire instantly, erupting into a huge blaze.

The landscapes, flowers and birds painted by Tang Bohu twisted in the flames into abstract graffiti; the ancient ink scent mingled with a burnt smell, evoking both sorrow and absurdity.

Meng Qinghe watched wide‑eyed as the painting burned away bit by bit, feeling as if he'd been scratched by a cat—this wasn't just burning a painting; it was burning his own post‑retirement quality of life.

But he didn't dare stop, for if Fu Xinping spoke up, Old Meng would be the next unlucky one.

Deng Chunning, meanwhile, was said to be looking for a solution.

But the situation is now clear: the secretary of the Provincial Political and Legal Affairs Commission, Luo, gives Deng Chunning no face at all, and Deng Chunning himself is barely holding on.

If we can't win, we have only one option—burn it! Burn it to ashes, leaving no evidence!

Just as the painting was half‑burned and the flames at their peak, a sudden 'bang bang bang' on the door startled Meng Qinghe so much that his whole body jerked, causing the iron tongs in his hand to clatter to the floor and strike his foot.

Who's there?!

Meng Qinghe, ignoring his foot pain, turned and shouted at the door, panicking wildly.

"Comrade Meng Qinghe, we are from the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection, acting on orders to search—please open the door!" Sun Section Chief's voice came from outside.

Meng Qinghe's face instantly turned as white as paper, the anguish in his eyes turning into despair.

He never expected the Commission for Discipline Inspection to act so swiftly—the fire in the bucket hadn't even gone out when they arrived at his doorstep!

"I'm in the bathroom, just a moment."

Meng Qinghe picked up the iron tongs that had fallen to the ground and quickly stirred the still‑unburned cash and scroll in the bucket.

He was mostly panicking, his hands trembling.

He hoped everything in the bucket would quickly turn to ash.

Bang!

Before he could finish burning it, someone kicked the door open!

The mild‑mannered Sun Section Chief certainly couldn't have kicked the door open with such force; it must have been Fan Ye's doing.

As the door opened, the smoky, fiery iron bucket in the living room came into view.

Sun Section Chief reacted instantly, lunging forward, grabbing the teapot from the side table, and pouring its water straight into the bucket.

The hissing and sputtering of the extinguishing flames quickly drove the smoke and dust down.

Inside the iron bucket.

Some unburned cash still remains, probably the leftover from tossing in bundles; if they had been torn apart before being thrown in, they would likely have been completely burned away.

The Tang Bohu genuine work also still has a small unburned fragment, the remaining piece about the size of an A4 sheet.

"Vice Mayor Meng, you sure know how to have fun—celebrating the Ghost Festival at home in the middle of the night." Lin Dongfan said with a mocking smile, "Are you burning real money or fake?"

"……!!!"

Meng Qinghe looked at the unburned remnant coins and scrolls in the iron bucket, his heart chilled considerably.

What bad luck!

This Lin bastard really is a plague god, he's everywhere!

Meng Qinghe suppressed his anger, then replied: "Nonsense, of course it's counterfeit. With my paltry salary, even if I worked till my next life I couldn't afford to play this money-burning game."

"Is that so?"

Lin Dongfan picked up a small half of a remnant note from the already extinguished iron bucket.

He examined it closely.

Unable to hold back a smile, he teased Meng Qinghe: "If it's counterfeit, why are you nervous?"

"Am I nervous? How absurd!" Meng Qinghe puffed out his chest, staring into Lin Dongfan's eyes: "You brought Discipline Inspection people to my house in the middle of the night, kicked down my door—what's your deal?!"

While chatting, Lin Dongfan displayed the small half of the remnant note before Meng Qinghe: "Besides, whether this is genuine or counterfeit will be clear after appraisal—do you want to explain again?"

"Explain what? There's nothing to explain!" Meng Qinghe suppressed his anger, gritted his teeth and argued: "When I was burning books earlier, I forgot there were bills tucked inside—is that illegal?!"

"Whether it's illegal or not, the Discipline Inspection people will tell you." Lin Dongfan glanced at Section Chief Sun: "Cuff him."

"You Lin, don't push people too far!"

Meng Qinghe's anger ultimately couldn't be contained.

His eyes glared at Lin Dongfan like staring at a plague god: "I, Meng Qinghe, am at least a standing committee member of the Municipal Party Committee, a provincially managed cadre—what right do you have to slap handcuffs on me?"