Chapter 93 Dismissal of Lin Jianguo
He raised his head, his unfocused eyes scanning the angry crowd below the stage blankly under the pale light, then sweeping over Zhang Zhaodi, who was slumped on the ground wailing. Finally, his gaze, like a poisoned hook, was fixed on Zhang Zhaodi.
There was no regret in those eyes, only a mad, venomous resentment that burned to the extreme after being betrayed by a loved one, a resentment that wanted to drag everything down to hell!
Am I finished?
He suddenly grinned and let out an extremely strange, chilling "giggle" laugh, his voice dry and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing. "Yes! I'm finished, but what do you think that bitch is?"
He suddenly raised his hand, which was tied behind his back, and pointed his index finger like a poisoned dagger straight and viciously at Zhang Zhaodi, who was standing alone below the stage.
"She reported me? Hahaha! Upholding justice even against family? What a noble and virtuous niece."
His laughter suddenly rose, filled with manic mockery, "Look at her, look at that 'Dacron' she's wearing, so respectable, so glamorous, where did that material come from? Hmm?"
His face contorted, every word like venom squeezed from between his teeth, “I bought her with the dirty money I made from reselling factory parts. Zhang Zhaodi, everything she wears, everything she eats, isn’t tainted with my, Lin Jinguo’s, profits?”
"What right does she have to stand here pretending to be virtuous? She's the biggest hypocrite, she's dirtier than me."
All eyes instantly turned like countless spotlights, focusing on Zhang Zhaodi.
Shock, doubt, disdain, schadenfreude... these were like tangible thorns pricking Zhang Zhaodi, but she was completely unaware that she was being controlled.
The air in the auditorium seemed to freeze. The slight sympathy that had just risen in those eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a more naked scrutiny and silent condemnation.
"So they're all from the same litter? Dogs fighting like dogs? None of them are good people!" someone shouted from the crowd, instantly resonating with many others.
Everyone stared intently at Lin Jianguo and Zhang Zhaodi, as if they wanted to devour them alive.
The workers' hushed whispers buzzed like venomous bees, and every gaze directed toward the stage was icy.
"Pah! Worse than animals!" An old worker in the front row spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground, his cloudy eyes filled with anger and contempt.
"That's his own niece... Zhang Jiumei's niece. By seniority, she should call him uncle. What a sin!"
The middle-aged woman next to him clenched her clothes, her voice trembling, her face a mixture of sympathy for Zhang Zhaodi and disgust for Lin Jianguo's heinous crimes.
"They act all respectable normally, but do such dirty things behind people's backs... being fired is too lenient!" Several young workers glared angrily in the direction Lin Jianguo was being dragged away, their fists clenched so tightly they cracked.
The factory leaders stood aside, their faces as gloomy as the sky before a storm.
Factory Director Zhou sighed heavily and said with great distress, "I always thought our factory had a clean and upright atmosphere, but I never expected that such a malignant tumor was hidden inside."
Zhao Degang's brows furrowed into a tight knot, and his sharp gaze turned to Zhang Zhaodi, filled with deep scrutiny and doubt.
Standing below the stage, Zhang Zhaodi felt a moment of confusion and despair. After a while, she slowly raised her head, her face showing no panic or shame at being exposed, only an almost numb calm.
Beneath that calm lies a bottomless abyss of confusion.
In the deathly silence where you could hear your own heartbeat, under the gaze of countless burning eyes, he raised his hand, his fingers cold and steady, and began to unbutton the brand-new, light blue polyester jacket one button at a time.
The movements were slow, carrying an almost cruel sense of ritual.
"Sizzle—sizzle—"
The sound of a button coming off its buttonhole was subtle yet exceptionally clear, like a knife slicing through a taut drumhead.
Each time a key was unlocked, a suppressed gasp could be heard from the audience.
Has this woman gone mad? Taking off her clothes in public is utterly indecent!
Seeing this, the crowd began to whisper among themselves and point at her.
Finally, the last button was undone.
Zhang Zhaodi grabbed her clothes with both hands and suddenly pulled them apart!
The light blue polyester outer garment was completely exposed.
What was visible underneath was a homespun undershirt, faded from washing, its original color almost unrecognizable, covered with layers upon layers of dense patches.
The patches, large ones over small ones, dark ones over light ones, with rough but stubborn stitches, were like countless ugly scars covering the thin inner shirt.
The entire auditorium fell into absolute silence.
Zhang Zhaodi spoke calmly and clearly, her voice not loud.
"Uncle."
The way Zhang Zhaodi uttered that title was devoid of any warmth, only conveying a chilling sense of alienation.
"From the first day you pushed me out, trying to use me to exchange for the marriage of that stupid son of the supply and marketing cooperative director, so as to pave the way for your own future..."
Zhang Zhaodi's gaze swept over his instantly stiff, ashen face, over the shocked, bewildered, and gradually complex and incredulous looks in everyone's eyes, and finally settled on her own tattered, riddled-with-holes undershirt. There was no accusation in her voice, only a desolate sense of having settled down.
“...I never touched a single penny of your dirty money stained with the blood and sweat of workers again.”
“This dress,” Zhang Zhaodi gently stroked the brand-new, light blue polyester fabric, her fingertips icy cold, “was a gift from my aunt’s factory last year for International Women’s Day. It was a labor protection benefit given to all the female workers, and the tag is still sewn inside.”
Dead silence.
An endless, heavy silence enveloped the entire auditorium, making it hard to breathe.
Only outside the window, the torrential rain that had lasted for half a day had quietly subsided, turning into a light, continuous drizzle that gently washed over the muddy earth.
Zhao Degang silently looked at Zhang Zhaodi, then looked down at the crucial ledgers in his hand, and finally his gaze swept over Lin Jinguo on the stage, who had completely collapsed, as if all his bones had been removed and he was just an empty shell.
After a long silence, he took a deep breath, turned to the microphone, and spoke in a low voice, but with a weariness that came after the dust had settled and an undeniable authority that clearly resonated throughout every corner of the auditorium.
"Lin Jinguo is morally corrupt and has violated national laws; the evidence is conclusive. After investigation, it has been decided to immediately dismiss him from public office! All his issues will be transferred to the relevant departments for severe punishment according to law!"
When he finished speaking, there was no cheering as expected, only a deeper silence.
Everyone—the factory leaders, the workers, the security personnel, the revolutionary committee members—felt uneasy watching what was going on between Lin Jianguo and Zhang Zhaodi.
Some people were still holding back their anger; the rage from before hadn't completely subsided, like a pile of burnt firewood where embers were still burning.
Some people stood there blankly, their eyes wide open, their minds completely blank, unable to come to their senses for a long time, as if they had been knocked senseless by a blunt object.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com