Looking up from her glowing tablet inside the back of the armored Maybach, Shen Qiaoqiao frowned as three emergency alerts chimed in succession while the convoy sped toward the Western Hills.
Thunder rumbled deep in the mountain gorges ahead, rattling the road signs along the highway.
Shen Qiaoqiao swiped the screen, her brow furrowing with deep, urgent concern.
“Chairman Lin,” Shen Qiaoqiao said, holding up the tablet. “Murong Construction has executed Patriarch Murong’s spiteful order.”
“What did they do?” Lin Mo asked, his gaze steady on the rain-swept highway.
“Boss Ma pulled all five hundred workers and heavy machinery off fifty bridge sites across the Western Hills,” Shen Qiaoqiao reported. “They dumped wet concrete into the drainage trenches and pulled out the temporary cofferdams.”
Beside the driver’s seat, Tie Niu gripped the steering wheel, his bronze knuckles whitening with rage.
“Those heartless bastards!” Tie Niu snarled, his deep voice shaking the dashboard. “The river is rising by three feet an hour! Without those fifty bridges, Principal Zhang’s girls’ school and sixty mountain villages will be cut off completely!”
