"Old Li, what exactly happened?!"
Li Bingyang took a deep breath, suppressing his agitation, and gritted his teeth, saying, "Someone has submitted incriminating material!"
"An anonymous letter has almost exposed everything we've done over the past few years!"
"Now, Secretary Zhou has ordered that mad dog Yan Guozhou to cooperate with the Discipline Inspection Commission to investigate us!"
The private room was deathly silent.
"A mole!"
Someone, I don't know who, squeezed out two words through gritted teeth.
"There's a traitor among us!"
A murderous glint flashed in Li Bingyang's eyes, and he slammed his hand on the table.
"All of you, calm down!"
"Now, everyone go back immediately and clean up your mess! Don't skimp on necessary expenses, and send away those who need to be sent away right now!"
"Make those desperados we're keeping get out of Jiaxing and hide in the countryside!"
"Remember, life is more important than money!"
"good!"
"Old Li, can you find out who did it?"
"Damn it! Don't let me find out who it is, or I'll skin his whole family alive!" a boss roared with a ferocious expression.
Li Bingyang didn't say anything, but with a gloomy face, he took the lead and walked out.
A scene flashed through his mind—Huang Pinyu and Yan Bin, leaving the private room one after the other.
...
Guoyun Grand Hotel, [Chaoyang Pavilion].
A deadly trap is quietly unfolding.
Yan Bin did not celebrate. He sat in the private room with only a cup of tea in front of him.
He was waiting for someone.
He was waiting for his cousin, Yan Guozhou.
As soon as Yan Guozhou gets what he wants, Operation Thunder will begin immediately, and none of Li Bingyang's group will be able to escape.
He believed that before long, the landscape of Jiaxing would change.
And Yan Bin will be the one standing at the top of the new order.
suddenly.
The door to the private room was pushed open silently.
Yan Bin raised an eyebrow, thinking it was a waiter, and looked up.
The next instant, his pupils suddenly contracted to the most dangerous pinpoints!
A masked man stood at the doorway, the dark muzzle of a gun pointed directly at his forehead.
No nonsense.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The silenced pistol emitted a muffled growl, and flashes of light flickered continuously in the private room.
Yan Bin's eyes widened, his body suddenly arched backward, and blood gushed from his chest, staining the wall behind him red.
He died without understanding where he had gone wrong.
The masked man turned around and quickly disappeared at the end of the corridor.
More than ten minutes later, the sirens finally arrived.
Yan Bin was shot six times and died on the spot.
The news spread like wildfire throughout Jiaxing's high society circles.
Huang Pinyu, who was sitting at home feeling restless, received a phone call. When he heard that "Yan Bin was shot and killed at the Guoyun Hotel," he was struck dumb and almost fell off his chair.
"Dad, what's wrong? You look terrible!"
"No...it's nothing!"
Huang Pinyu ignored her son, staggered into the study, and locked the door.
He rushed to the phone and dialed a number with trembling fingers.
"Old Yu! Yan Bin... Yan Bin has been killed! Have you heard?"
"Nonsense! How could I not know about something this big?" Old Yu's voice trembled on the other end of the phone. "Li Bingyang and his gang have gone mad! This is making an example of them! Old Huang, did you give him the stuff?"
"This afternoon... just gave it to..."
"Damn it!" Old Yu cursed, "You idiot! Li Bingyang and his gang of bastards have no sense of rules anymore! I'm leaving right now, and you'd better run too! It'll be too late if you don't leave now!"
"Okay, okay, I'll be right there!"
After hanging up the phone, Huang Pinyu was terrified. She stumbled and scrambled out of the study, shouting loudly:
"Zhengjie! Zhengjie! Quick, pack your things, we're going to Shanghai! Zhengjie!"
In the living room, the television was still on, playing the noisy evening news.
There was no response whatsoever.
A sense of foreboding rose in Huang Pinyu's heart. His legs went weak, and he slowly made his way to the living room.
His son, Huang Zhengjie, was sitting quietly on the sofa with his back to him, seemingly watching television.
“Zhengjie…”
Huang Pinyu reached out with trembling hands and gently patted her son's shoulder.
The son's body slumped to one side and slid onto the carpet.
A fruit knife was stuck in his back, with only the black handle remaining.
A white piece of paper was pinned to his chest with the tip of a knife.
Above, two words were written in blood.
Shut up.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
