This is an attic, with a simple bed inside that looks like it should belong to a worker's room. Lin Chuan opened the door to the room, and the corridor was still lit with a dim light. The carpet laid on the corridor made things convenient for Lin Chuan, as the carpet had a soundproofing effect; so when Lin Chuan walked on it, there was hardly any noise at all.

All rooms on the third floor should be the rooms for workers and maids, so Lin Chuan decided to head towards the second floor.

There were five rooms on the second floor, each tightly closed, which made it difficult for Lin Chuan to judge. However, Lin Chuan made a quick assessment. According to the way Chinese officials think, "fortune comes from the East," so the room on the eastern side must undoubtedly be the master's room.

Lin Chuan curiously pushed open the room on the east side, and heard a snoring sound. It seems he was right; this must be Song Ming's bedroom. However, after prowling around the room for a while, he surprisingly found nothing. He quietly retreated with another idea in mind; if nothing was hidden in the master bedroom, there was only one place left: the study.

This time, Lin Chuan did not guess wrong; indeed, the study had its own hidden paradise.

It was a spacious study, with huge bookshelves displayed on both walls, not holding a single book, all filled with miscellaneous cultural playthings and antiques collected from various places. There were also many pieces of jade and treasures. It was unknown whether these items were genuine or fakes.

If all these items were genuine, then they would be worth a fortune. However, upon scanning them, Lin Chuan saw some high-end looking objects that turned out to be fake decorations; it was unexpected to see that Song Ming had such a strong vanity. He wondered why put fakes on display instead of real ones. Nonetheless, among these items, there were indeed some genuine pieces.

Lin Chuan, guided by moonlight, curiously examined the items inside. However, these things would be of no use to Lin Chuan if he took them. Cashing them in would take time, and it would be difficult to liquidate these items unless he found someone who recognized their value. Thus what Lin Chuan needed was cash, stacks of crisp, new cash.

Lin Chuan was a very meticulous person, and although Song Ming's hiding was tight, Lin Chuan still found it behind a painting featuring a "hidden dragon and crouching tiger." It was a vertical safe embedded in the wall, the whole safe cemented into the wall; to remove it would mean taking down the entire wall.

Lin Chuan took a look at the built-in wall safe; it seemed complex, but not difficult to crack. Lin Chuan smirked mischievously, immediately springing into action. He collected Song Ming's perfect fingerprint with adhesive tape from the desk, and then pulled out silicone gel from a pouch tied around his waist. This could create a finger's fingerprint in a short time and allow the machine to recognize it.

Lin Chuan had anticipated the possibility of a safe. Soon, a silicone gel fingerprint was ready.

Beep...

The safe accepted that fingerprint, but then a mechanical password appeared. Of course, this was not beyond Lin Chuan either. Mechanical passwords could be troublesome, but still had the opportunity to be cracked. Lin Chuan listened closely, gently turning the knob, and before long, he deciphered the correct password.

When he opened the safe, Lin Chuan was utterly astonished as the scene he imagined with bundles of cash falling out did not happen. Inside, there were about several hundred thousand in cash; the rest were primarily documents and material.

"That's it?" Lin Chuan was dumbfounded; it seemed this trip was somewhat disappointing. However, it was good that he didn't make the trip for nothing.

Lin Chuan counted two hundred thousand and stuffed it into his waist pouch, then quickly locked the safe and returned the way he came on the third floor. Everything was done neatly, leaving no trace behind. Song Ming in the villa would probably never imagine that his study had already been visited. This villa complex, which boasted the highest security and was guarded by many retired soldiers, also had its day of failure.

Of course, they were not disgraced, for they lost to one of the top soldiers internationally, few could compete. Even world leaders hold them in awe. Especially in the United States' top-secret archives is this record: This group of soldiers, unbeatable, and unstoppable, is today's most formidable existence, although they do not possess the high-tech weapons we have, their strength far surpasses our Sea Lion Assault Team, and even Russia's Alpha Special Forces. They are the Dark Soldiers.

Exiting from the cluster of villas, Lin Chuan returned to the jungle and retrieved his clothes.

On the way back, Lin Chuan appeared very calm, as if what he had just done was an exceedingly common affair. The two hundred thousand in crisp, new bills sat bulging in his waist pouch, and Lin Chuan felt satisfied.

When he returned to Changlin Community, it was already two o'clock in the morning. Arriving home, Lin Chuan immediately took off his night clothes, folded them neatly, and hid them in the closet. As for the two hundred thousand in cash, he stuffed it all into his pillow.

.........

The next day, the sun shone brightly, and everything still appeared so quiet and peaceful.

In East River villa district, Song Ming and his wife got up early, at his age, aside from contending for power, more time was spent on health-maintenance. Every morning he gets up early and goes to the riverside to practice a set of Tai Chi. After practicing Tai Chi, he goes home for breakfast, made by the nanny's own hands, fresh soy milk, as well as handmade steamed buns and dumplings. The flour for the soy milk and dumplings was ground from millet obtained from the countryside; Song Ming did not trust the free offerings and some food products on the market, most importantly because he was the one in charge of this area.

"Old Song." At this moment, Song Ming's wife came down from upstairs.

And Song Ming sat at the dining table reading the Communist Party newspaper People's Daily and Jiangbei City Daily. As an official, reading these newspapers was a daily necessity; the party newspaper not only allowed one to gauge the higher-ups' thoughts and intentions but also to keep up with policy movements. Once the central leadership initiated an anti-corruption campaign, he had to figure out ways to keep his own backside clean, although it was very dirty, but for survival, some actions had to be taken.

"What's wrong?" Song Ming put down his paper.

"Why do I feel like our house has been burgled?" Song Ming's wife furrowed her brows.

"Why do you say that?" Song Ming asked, puzzled.

"A premonition," laughed Song Ming's wife. "I just went to your study and found nothing missing."

"You're like a startled bird," chuckled Song Ming.

In fact, he was very afraid, afraid of the arrival of the Provincial Discipline Inspection Commission. Once their people came, it would mean the end of his good days. Sometimes, Song Ming would have such nightmares, even though life was monotonous every day, he still felt very afraid.

"I guess so," nodded Song Ming's wife. "When are you going to deal with the stuff in your study?"

"In a few days," Song Ming replied, continuing to read the newspaper.

"Keeping those things at home is too dangerous," frowned Song Ming's wife. "People who don't know better might think you've embezzled a lot of money. They're all fakes. Not worth anything."

"Oh, it's just for decoration at home, what's the problem?" Song Ming was a bit impatient. "Besides, it's all calm now, where could there be any trouble?"

Seeing him get impatient, Song Ming's wife could only sit aside and continue applying skincare products to her face.

After breakfast, escorted by Song Wen, Song Ming went to the City Committee. He arrived at nine o'clock. Normally, the working hours for the City Committee should be from eight in the morning until noon. However, the actual working hours for Song Ming were from nine to noon.

On the way to work this morning, Song Ming just happened to encounter Lin Chuan.

"Yo, Vice Secretary Song, good morning," Lin Chuan said, carrying his breakfast as he came in from outside.

Song Ming was startled and glanced at his watch. "Lin Chuan, it's already nine o'clock, not early at all," he said.

"Indeed," nodded Lin Chuan. "I didn't expect such a high-ranking official like Vice Secretary Song to be late like a little driver like me, lacking a sense of time. I'm not sure whether it's Vice Secretary Song's tragedy or my honor?"

Taking the initiative was always Lin Chuan's style, and Song Ming was left speechless by Lin Chuan's words. His face darkened, and with a flick of his sleeve, he left angrily. Song Wen glared at Lin Chuan and derisively said, "Where's a mere driver getting the courage to argue with Vice Secretary Song?"

"Aren't you also a driver?" Lin Chuan retorted.

Song Wen, a bit angry, cursed, "Lin Chuan, you'll get what's coming to you sooner or later."

"All right then, I'm waiting," Lin Chuan waved his hand at Song Wen.

Song Wen had no way of dealing with Lin Chuan and could only walk away in anger. Lin Chuan watched the uncle-nephew pair and couldn't help but remark. Seriously, this uncle and nephew were quite similar in some ways, which was quite surprising to him. Lin Chuan couldn't help but laugh with a mischievous smile.

In the lounge, Luo Guoqing surprisingly came to work.

"Old Luo, why aren't you in the hospital?" Lin Chuan looked at Luo Guoqing in astonishment.

"I'm fine," Luo Guoqing said with a smile, leaning on his crutch. "I can still drive."

"In this condition, which leader would dare to let you drive?" Lin Chuan said astounded.

"My left leg is broken, but my right leg is fine, don't worry," Luo Guoqing laughed. "Besides, it's too boring to recuperate at home, so I simply came here for a look."

At this moment, brothers Song Wen and Song Wu entered, and they were mildly surprised to see Luo Guoqing.

"Yo, Old Luo, you're not lying in the hospital?" they said practically in unison.

"Can't afford to lie down, it's over a hundred a day," replied Luo Guoqing indifferently.

The two didn't pay more attention to Old Luo. Old Luo had been hospitalized for just over half a month, and his superficial wounds were healing pretty well. It is said, Old Luo had dozens of stitches all over his body. Apart from the stab wound near his heart, basically there were no serious injuries, except his left leg, which was more severely wounded.

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