332: Chapter 331 The Hidden Agent Quietly Closes the Net

Jinling Hotel, Presidential Suite.

7:40 PM.

Song Yanchen pressed his phone to his ear and paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling window three times.

"Dad, the logistics park has been unsealed. Do you know that?"

His voice was taut, and anger seeped out from between his words.

"Qin Feng made people force Zhou Yuhua to wipe the door in front of a dozen people from the Shen Family."

"Wipe the door, did you hear me?"

"Zhou Yuhua wiped it with his own hands."

There was silence on the other end of the line for two seconds.

The man's voice came through.

"Don't touch Qin Feng yet. Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan of Jinling has already staked his position to protect him."

Song Yanchen stopped.

"So what?"

His tone sharpened, and his temples throbbed twice.

"Zhou Yuhua has been with our family for twelve years. How many things has he done for you in Jinling?"

"Now that Qin Feng is rubbing his face in the dirt, you think a simple 'don't touch him' settles it?"

The person on the other end said a few more things.

Song Yanchen gritted his teeth and listened to the end.

"The timing isn't right?"

"When will the timing ever be right?"

He raised his hand and yanked at his collar, popping a shirt button, which rolled onto the carpet.

"The Shen Family doesn't even look at me properly now."

"If this continues, are we still going to go through with that matter?"

The tone on the other end turned heavy.

Song Yanchen pressed his lips together, his chest heaving.

"I know."

He hung up the phone.

He gripped the phone in his palm, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

He stared at the white porcelain cup on the coffee table for three seconds.

The next moment.

He swung the cup and smashed it against the TV cabinet.

Porcelain shards flew everywhere.

Tea splashed onto the carpet.

The secretary rushed out from the next room and stood in the doorway.

"Young Master Song..."

Song Yanchen slammed his palm on the coffee table.

"I'll make Qin Feng pay the price tonight."

The secretary stopped in his tracks, not daring to move forward.

"Young Master Song, you shouldn't say things like that."

"Shouldn't say it?"

Song Yanchen turned his head to look at him.

His eyes were bloodshot.

"I've been in Jinling for two weeks, and I've been ridden over by some wild card."

"My dad tells me to endure it."

"You tell me to endure it too."

"Do you all think I, Song Yanchen, should just endure this?"

The secretary opened his mouth.

Song Yanchen shoved him aside and walked into the bedroom.

The wardrobe door was pulled open.

He yanked the hangers so hard they tilted to one side.

He pulled out a black hooded sweatshirt to put on and changed into a pair of jeans.

His face was reflected in the mirror.

The bruise on his wrist had not yet faded.

Every time he saw this mark, he would recall the force with which Qin Feng had gripped his wrist at the Shen Family banquet that day.

What exactly was the old man afraid of?

Since when had the Song family been trampled to this extent?

And he still told him to endure it.

Endure my ass.

He shoved his room card and wallet into his pocket and pushed open the bedroom door.

The bodyguard was standing at the corner of the hallway and immediately hurried over when he saw him come out.

"Young Master Song, where are you going?"

"Out."

"I'll notify Secretary Liu."

"No need."

Song Yanchen didn't look back.

"Just the two of us."

The bodyguard hesitated for a moment, then followed.

Song Yanchen stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement level.

This crappy place, Jinling.

It didn't even have a decent nightclub.

But he needed alcohol right now, needed music, needed anything that could make his brain stop.

Otherwise, he would go crazy tonight.

At the same time.

Jinling Municipal Government, Conference Room No. 3.

Qin Feng sat in the third seat on the left side of the long table.

In front of him lay a structural proposal for the Urban Investment Industry Fund.

Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan sat at the head of the table.

To his left was Bureau Chief Li Zhiyuan of the Finance Bureau, who had graying hair, wore reading glasses, and was twirling a fountain pen in his hand.

To his right was the Chairman of the Urban Investment Group, Zhou Jianming, who was in his early fifties and had his suit buttoned all the way to the top.

"The capital structure will follow three tiers."

Qin Feng opened the proposal to the second page.

"Urban Investment will act as the guide, Qinsheng will jointly invest with the industry partners, and the remaining portion will follow market-based matching funds."

Bureau Chief Li Zhiyuan pushed his reading glasses down.

"The risk exposure can be controlled."

"What about the letters of intent from the industry partners?"

"Two have arrived."

Qin Feng pulled two documents from his briefcase and pushed them over.

"The third one will be signed by Friday."

As he spoke, his left hand, resting under the table, lightly tapped the laptop's touchpad.

The screen brightness was dimmed to the lowest setting.

A surveillance window of the hotel lobby popped up.

In the footage, the elevator numbers were counting down from the forty-sixth floor.

Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan looked over while holding his teacup.

"General Manager Qin, how are you arranging the investment decision-making rights?"

Qin Feng looked up, his expression unchanged.

"Urban Investment and Qinsheng will each hold one seat."

"Major decisions must be passed unanimously by both sides, while daily operations will be executed by the Qinsheng team."

His right hand turned to the third page of the proposal.

His left hand switched to the parking lot cameras under the table.

The basement entrance was normal.

The No. 3 elevator entrance was normal.

The back passageway was normal.

Zhou Jianming looked at the document and nodded.

"Walking on two legs—the government provides supervision, and the market provides speed."

"Correct."

Qin Feng closed his pen.

"Neither will drag the other down."

The elevator footage flickered.

A black hooded sweatshirt appeared in the frame.

A burly man followed behind.

It was Song Yanchen.

He only brought one bodyguard.

No secretary.

No other entourage.

Qin Feng tapped his fingertips three times under the table.

A piece of code finished executing.

A delay was written into the Hotel Lobby Camera No. 3.

The footage of the north side of the parking lot entered a buffer.

The bodyguard's communication frequency began to be monitored.

Three seconds.

That was enough.

Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan closed the folder.

"The structure is fine."

He looked at Bureau Chief Li Zhiyuan.

"Speed up the financial review."

Bureau Chief Li Zhiyuan nodded.

"I'll provide the opinion by next Wednesday."

"Then submit it by next Wednesday," Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan finalized.

"Once General Manager Qin's third letter of intent is in place, we will officially launch the public announcement process."

"Understood."

Qin Feng nodded.

The meeting came to an end.

Bureau Chief Li Zhiyuan and Zhou Jianming left one after another.

Qin Feng remained in the conference room to tidy up his documents.

Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan didn't leave; he stood by the window holding his teacup.

"Xiao Qin, have you noticed the rumors in Jinling lately?"

"I have."

Qin Feng stuffed the folder into his briefcase.

"Regarding the Song Family."

Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan glanced at him.

"Don't make too much trouble."

Qin Feng pulled the zipper of his briefcase shut.

"I know my limits."

Deputy Mayor Lu Wenyuan didn't say anything more and walked out with his cup.

The conference room door closed.

Qin Feng looked down at his phone.

On the screen was the real-time footage of the hotel lobby.

Song Yanchen had already crossed the lobby and was walking toward the basement elevator entrance.

Qin Feng switched to text messages.

Send.

[Target preparing to go out. Two people.]

Sent.

Qin Feng flipped his phone face down on the table and reopened the industry fund proposal.

He picked up a red pen and wrote two words on the third page: Approved.

On the west side of Jinling Hotel, across the street.

Su Wan was sitting at a window seat in a roadside milk tea shop.

In front of her sat a cup of lemonade that she had barely touched.

Light blue short-sleeved shirt.

Black baseball cap.

Her backpack was placed beside her chair.

Her phone vibrated.

She looked down at it.

[Target preparing to go out. Two people.]

Two people.

Su Wan put her phone into her pocket and took a sip of the lemonade.

One bodyguard.

One less than anticipated.

The information Qin Feng had previously provided was that Song Yanchen usually brought two bodyguards and one driver when going out at night.

Today, there was only one.

It seemed that Qin Feng's move during the day had truly made him lose his head with anger.

This was the first lesson she had learned in the organization: an angry target is the easiest to approach.

Su Wan stood up and put on her backpack.

She walked out of the milk tea shop and moved along the sidewalk toward the hotel.