Chapter 92 Lin Jianguo, you parasite!
Zhao Degang gripped the ledger tightly in both hands, his expression solemn. After taking a deep breath, he announced loudly to the crowd: "Fellow workers! This ledger was retrieved from the hands of the leader of an illegal trading gang by someone who risked their life!"
"It's clearly recorded above how they colluded with criminals to embezzle our machinery factory's collective property!"
“Look at these dark marks,” Zhao Degang pointed to a spot in the ledger, “those are testimonies left by those in the know when they fought against the authorities to uncover the truth.”
An angry roar erupted from the crowd:
"Report them! Let Lin Jianguo, that big scoundrel, be brought to justice!"
"Yes! Lin Jianguo must be severely punished!"
"Lin Jinguo! You parasite!"
"Scum who suck the blood and sweat of workers!"
"Lin Jinguo must take responsibility!"
Condemnations, shouts of anger, and the sound of chairs being pounded surged forth like a raging torrent.
Lin Jinguo was so overwhelmed by the surging sound that he lost his balance and staggered backward. His face turned from ashen to deathly pale, and large beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks.
He was absolutely unwilling to admit defeat!
He lunged at Zhao Degang, his voice shrill and distorted, filled with the madness of a dying struggle: "Slander! This is slander! Zhao Degang, you framed me! This ledger is fake, they forged it! I... I'm innocent! I've been loyal to the factory!"
He waved his arms, trying to snatch the ledger, but was firmly stopped by the staff member next to him.
Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out among the crowd in the front row.
Several workers, soaking wet, covered in mud, and visibly exhausted with abrasions, struggled to push through the crowd and reach the front.
The leader was a sturdy middle-aged man with scars on his face. He raised his hands high, holding a large, wet, crumpled, and muddy ball of paper!
"Lin Jinguo, you're still trying to deny it."
The man's voice boomed like thunder, his angry roar drowning out the noise around him. "Look at this! You were just taken away, and now someone's stormed into your office, tearing things up and burning them. Do you think we can't see this?"
"I snatched this from your office wastebasket and dug it out of your precious tin stove. You want to destroy the evidence? Too late."
As he shouted, he and several coworkers frantically spread and pieced together the soaking wet wad of paper on the ground in front of the stage.
Although the paper was torn to shreds and soaked and blurred by rain, some key words—"transfer agreement," "Zhang Zhaodi," "three hundred yuan," "voluntarily relinquishing the right to work"—and Lin Jinguo's flamboyant signature in the corner stubbornly stood out amidst the mess of scraps of paper, glaringly obvious.
"Everyone, look carefully."
The man pointed to the mess on the ground, his voice hoarse with excitement, "That Lin Jinguo not only sold state property, but also abused his power to illegally transfer job quotas and take money in private. Who did he sell the opportunities that should have been given to workers in need to? And Zhang Zhaodi, his so-called 'niece'!"
The name "Zhang Zhaodi" was like a spark thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting an even more intense storm of discussion.
Many people in the audience remembered the fashionable young woman who often came to see Lin Jinguo.
"Zhang Zhaodi? Isn't that... his niece?"
"Hmph! What niece? Our relationship has been improper for a long time."
"No wonder I always go to his office."
Lin Jinguo was struck dumb, his body swaying violently. He stared intently at the pieced-together "evidence" on the ground, his lips trembling, his face turning from white to green, his eyes completely unfocused, as if the last bit of strength had been drained away.
"No...no...that's...that's..." He stammered, his voice so weak it was almost inaudible.
Just then, a disheveled woman, looking utterly devastated, rushed in, crying and screaming.
It was Zhang Zhaodi!
Her once brightly colored floral blouse was now covered in mud, and tears streamed down her face.
"Lin Jinguo! Lin Jinguo, you liar! Bastard!" Zhang Zhaodi's cries were sharp and piercing. She stumbled down to the stage and pointed at the man who was swaying on the stage.
Her eyes were red and swollen as she pointed at Lin Jinguo, tears streaming down her face: "You ruined me! You've terribly hurt me! Tell me, don't think they don't know about the shameful things you've done."
The surrounding crowd grew even louder.
"What a scoundrel, he's ruined people like this..."
"They look respectable on the surface, but they're so despicable behind the scenes..."
Lin Jinguo lowered his head, his hands clenched tightly, and he stammered without making a sound.
Zhang Zhaodi continued to sob, "I believed you back then, and what happened? You did this to me, how am I supposed to face anyone now?"
Someone in the crowd sighed, "Alas, he brought this on himself..."
Unable to withstand the pressure, Lin Jinguo looked up, his face filled with panic: "I...I was confused for a moment...I..."
Zhang Zhaodi interrupted him sharply: "Foolish? What's the use of saying you're foolish now? When you did those things, why didn't you think about the consequences?"
"I've been ruined by this heartless man today, and I'll never forgive him in my life!"
She suddenly pulled a small, palm-sized, hardcover notebook, also soaked in water and with curled edges, from her bosom and slammed it onto the stage with all her might.
The notebook slammed into Lin Jinguo's chest with a "thud" and then bounced to his feet.
Zhang Zhaodi wailed, her voice filled with despair: "And the money you gave the doctor! Let him... let him 'dispose of'... dispose of my child! You said it was a stain on your reputation, Lin Jinguo, where is your conscience? That's your own flesh and blood! Why are you silent now?"
The workers were all shocked by Zhang Zhaodi's wailing, and their whispers grew louder and louder.
Someone couldn't help but mutter a curse: "Is Lin Jinguo even human? That's his own child."
Lin Jinguo's face was ashen, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word. His eyes were filled with panic, and he dared not look into Zhang Zhaodi's eyes, which were filled with despair and hatred, nor could he face the condemning gazes of his fellow workers.
Zhang Zhaodi collapsed to the ground, tears mingling with the dirt, making her face a mess. She continued to sob, "I'm still your niece, even if we're not blood relatives, so what? I have no complaints against you."
"No matter what you ask me to do, I will definitely listen to you. But what about you? For your own reputation, for your so-called future, you actually had the heart to harm your own child. Don't you dream of your child's vengeful spirit every night when you sleep?"
In the crowd, a young worker couldn't stand it any longer. He stepped forward, pointed at Lin Jinguo, and said angrily, "Lin Jinguo, aren't you afraid of retribution for doing such a heinous thing?"
Other workers echoed this sentiment, and condemnations rose and fell.
Lin Jinguo's legs went weak, and he knelt down with a thud, his voice pleading, "Zhaodi, I...I was wrong. I was out of my mind. I was scared, scared that this would affect my work, affect everything. I've been blaming myself and regretting it so much..."
Zhao Degang's face was ashen as he looked at Lin Jinguo, who was pale and trembling like a leaf. His voice was not loud, but it struck everyone's hearts like a heavy hammer, carrying the meaning of final judgment:
"Lin Jinguo! As a state cadre, you are morally corrupt and lead a decadent life. You abused your power, embezzled state assets, and sold them off! You are corrupt and degenerate, engaging in improper relationships with women. To cover up your crimes, you attempted to destroy evidence and harm others. Every single one of these acts is irrefutable. What excuse do you have left?!"
Lin Jinguo's body trembled violently, and a long, desperate wail escaped his throat.
His last line of defense collapsed completely.
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