213: Chapter 213 Zheng Dongguo almost died of anger

Evening, the Zheng family villa.

The old housekeeper stood before Zheng Dongguo's hospital bed, hands hanging down, head bowed, his voice kept very low.

The old man leaned against the head of the bed, covered by a thin quilt. His complexion was sallow, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his cheekbones protruded sharply.

He hadn't eaten much of anything for several days, relying entirely on nutrient solutions to sustain himself.

The old housekeeper had worked for the Zheng family for most of his life, having followed Zheng Dongguo since the days when he was the County Party Committee secretary. Having weathered decades of storms together, he had a clear sense of what should and should not be said.

But regarding today's matter, he dared not remain silent.

Zheng Ze had only been back for a few days, and he was already causing trouble everywhere again.

He had already turned away several groups of people who had come knocking; some were asking the Third Young Master for favors, some were there to lodge complaints, and others were there to collect debts.

He couldn't stop them, and he didn't dare to.

Zheng Ze was the old man's own flesh and blood; what could a mere housekeeper do?

After hesitating for a long time, he finally recounted everything Zheng Ze had done over the past few days: the matter with Cuican Fireworks, the phone call to Deputy Secretary You Chuan, and his wining and dining with those business owners in the city.

Zheng Dongguo listened, his chest heaving violently, and his throat emitted a rattling sound, like a bellows on the verge of falling apart.

It took great effort for him to draw in a breath, and even greater effort to exhale.

"Scoundrel... unfilial spawn..."

His voice was raspy beyond recognition, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, as if he longed to crush them to find relief.

"I, Zheng Dongguo, have been wise my entire life, cautious my entire life. I have never taken a wrong step in my official career, and I have never said a wrong word in front of others."

"How could I have given birth to such a scoundrel?"

"If I had known it would come to this, I should have drowned him in the toilet the moment he was born! He has brought nothing but disgrace to me, Zheng Dongguo!"

The old housekeeper hurriedly stepped forward to help him catch his breath, murmuring that the old man should calm his anger, that the Third Young Master was still young and ignorant, and similar platitudes.

Zheng Dongguo shoved his hand away, coughing even more violently. He hunched over, curled up like a boiled shrimp.

Just then, the phone by the bedside rang.

The old housekeeper picked up the receiver, listened, and handed it over, his voice very low.

"Sir, it's a call from Deputy Secretary You Chuan."

Zheng Dongguo took the receiver, struggling to steady his breathing so the person on the other end wouldn't detect his weakness.

"Xiao Chuan, it's so late. Is something the matter?"

The voice of Deputy Secretary You Chuan came through the receiver, carrying the specific deference a subordinate shows to an old leader.

"Elder Zheng, I apologize for disturbing your rest. There is a matter I feel I should bring to your attention."

"This afternoon, the city held a special meeting on production safety, presided over by Executive Vice Mayor Zhou Guoliang."

"Xu Weidong of Changyuan County gave a presentation on their experience at the meeting, and Comrade Executive Vice Mayor Zhou Guoliang specifically commended Changyuan County for its emphasis on production safety and its attitude of daring to tackle tough issues."

Zheng Dongguo did not speak, his fingers gripping the receiver tightening slightly.

Deputy Secretary You Chuan paused, his voice dropping even lower, as if sharing a secret that shouldn't be heard by too many people.

"Elder Zheng, you know about that Cuican Fireworks factory in Changyuan County. Last time, Zheng Ze called me hoping I would put in a word with Changyuan County, but I didn't agree."

"Although Cuican Fireworks wasn't mentioned on the surface at today's meeting, Comrade Executive Vice Mayor Zhou Guoliang's praise for Changyuan County's willingness to tackle tough issues, and Xu Weidong taking the stage to share their experience—the signal is already very clear."

"Secretary Lin Juncai takes this matter very seriously, and it is likely that Comrade Executive Vice Mayor Zhou Guoliang holding this meeting was also his intention."

Zheng Dongguo's complexion turned even worse than before. It wasn't the look of illness, but the sallow, grayish-green pallor of being enraged, like a layer of gray cloth draped over a corpse's face.

Xu Weidong, it's Xu Weidong again!

During the Crackdown on Organized Crime, he was afraid Zheng Ze would be implicated, so he sent him abroad overnight.

Now the person is back, and within just a few days, he has run into Xu Weidong's hands again.

Cuican Fireworks, what kind of enterprise is that?

"Xiao Chuan, I understand. Thank you for telling me this."

Zheng Dongguo hung up the phone and threw the receiver onto the bed, gasping for air, his chest heaving violently like a bellows.

"That beast, he is trying to drag our Zheng family to death! He goes around using my name, saying this and that, not even putting a county head in his eyes. Who does he think he is? Is he a god in heaven?"

"What kind of person is that Xu Weidong? If others don't know, doesn't he know? Is he someone who can be provoked?"

Before the words had even faded, Zheng Dongguo's vision suddenly went black. He couldn't catch his breath, and his entire body jerked backward, falling heavily onto the pillow.

The old housekeeper was terrified out of his wits. He stepped forward to support Zheng Dongguo's shoulders and patted his back vigorously, shouting, "Sir! Sir!"

While shouting, he pulled out his mobile phone, his fingers shaking so much that he had to press the buttons several times before getting it right.

"Is this 120? Come quickly, come save him!"

On the other side of the city, Zheng Ze was sitting in a black sedan, which pulled into the underground parking lot of a five-star hotel.

He was wearing a dark casual suit today, his hair combed meticulously, and a faint, elusive smile hung on his face.

That smile was hard to define—whether it was smugness or anticipation—making anyone who saw it feel a chill seeping out from their very bones.

This hotel was the property of President Wang, the real estate boss he had been drinking with yesterday.

When the two were drinking, they had booked the presidential suite, and two women in black stockings had served them all night. When they woke up in the morning, President Wang had already prepared the room card.

"Third Young Master, if you have any needs, just give the order."

Zheng Ze took the room card without mentioning his purpose, and President Wang didn't ask.

Having spent so many years in the business world, one learns not to ask what shouldn't be asked, not to say what shouldn't be said, and not to pretend to know what one shouldn't know.

This is the rule, and also the basic principle for self-preservation.

The elevator doors opened, and Zheng Ze walked into room 1208.

The room had not yet been occupied; the bed was neat, and the curtains were drawn.

He first installed a pinhole camera next to the ceiling spotlight directly facing the head of the bed. The position was concealed, and one wouldn't notice it without looking carefully.

Then he took out an aromatherapy box and placed it on the bedside table.

This aromatherapy box looked no different from what the hotel provided, but the aromatherapy tablets inside had been specially formulated by someone he found; they contained potent aphrodisiac ingredients. Once lit, they were colorless and odorless, yet could make a person develop intense physiological reactions without them realizing it.

Skin burning hot, breathing rapid, consciousness blurring, the body uncontrollably craving the touch of the opposite sex.

He had used it a few times when he was abroad, and the results were excellent; he had never failed.

After finishing all this, he sat on the edge of the bed and took out his phone to check the time.

Seven o'clock in the evening, and his own younger sister, Zheng Wan, had not yet arrived.

She was returning from Yancheng with her daughter; the flight was landing at eight o'clock, and she would arrive at the hotel around nine.

He had plenty of time to wait!

The aromatherapy box on the table lay there quietly, and the lens of the pinhole camera was hidden beside the spotlight, like a half-open, half-closed eye, silently watching this meticulously prepared room.

The hotel corridor was very quiet; the orange wall lamps illuminated the carpet, making it look soft and warm. Occasionally, a waiter would pass by pushing a work cart, the wheels rolling over the carpet without a sound.

No one knew that a beast was hiding in this room, and even fewer knew that the beast's father was currently in the emergency room, racing against death.