Big Data Cultivation

Chapter 511: Chapter 511 A Killing Intent Arises

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Feng Jun’s reaction was not petty, as a young man who once had nothing but an education, he had encountered enough obstacles in society in previous years.

If you’re not at the bottom, you don’t understand the helplessness of the bottom. In the employee dormitory, even a signature pen could be stolen—couldn’t you return it after you’ve used it?

His past experiences made him prone to suspect the worst of some matters.

Feng Jun didn’t know Hu Changqing very well, but he could imagine that someone who could become a ministerial-level leader probably had a temper. Hadn’t he likely already gotten used to the idea that “those who follow me shall prosper, and those who oppose me shall perish”?

Of course, Mr. Hu certainly had times when he would compromise; isn’t politics the art of compromise? But without a doubt, the objects of his compromise would definitely not be someone insignificant like Feng Jun.

Now, Feng Jun might also be considered a billionaire. With a few swipes of his pen and by pooling his efforts, he might manage to squeeze into the ten-billion circle, but to the national system he represented, he was still just a salted fish, only bigger in size compared to other salted fish.

Just a single Chaoge City dared to send over fifty people to summon him to Zhengyang.

Regarding the matter of the lamp store opening, the one who was wrong was actually Liu Er, but Feng Jun had absolutely no interest in gambling on Hu Changqing’s character.

Your buttocks decide your brain; as long as someone has a butt, they will justify their actions. Was what Liu Er did really that excessive? Isn’t a market economy supposed to encourage competition fully? Once competition occurs, shouldn’t everyone show off their “Divine Skills”?

If Liu Er could survive in the brutal market competition, you could say he’s good at “reincarnating,” but isn’t reincarnating a skill itself? If you were capable, and you could completely dominate him with your core technology, wouldn’t the market be yours?

Feng Jun didn’t know whether Hu Changqing would say something similar, but just from Liu Er’s years of rampaging on the lamp street and his extremely arrogant attitude, it could be deduced that, at the very least, Hu Changqing couldn’t be absolved from the suspicion of indulgence.

Feng, who engaged in interdimensional trading, initially found it extremely lonely, difficult, and dangerous. Now, there was still danger, but making money had become relatively easier and he had accumulated some assets.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated on ƝονǤօ.ᴄօ

He could take out a few billion and bet on Hu Changqing’s character without harming his own backbone.

Besides, if he really pissed him off, sending out a few “unnatural death” slots wouldn’t be too difficult to arrange.

But… why bother? Feng Jun didn’t like trouble, and moreover, he might end up facing an organizational decision. If one really wanted to confront the entire system, the troubles would be more than trivial.

Thus, since taking care of Liu Er and declining to visit Hu Changqing, Feng Jun had already made up his mind: unless Old Hu dies, I will not contract for the forest and mountains.

Of course, to put it another way, if there was indeed a good contracting opportunity, then he might take preemptive action and have to silently say “sorry” to Elder Hu.

—If you can disregard the suffering of others, so can I.

Therefore, he wasn’t interested in the promise of “permission to contract” that Mou Miao mentioned. Instead, he was quite interested in the three newly assembled Boiler Camel Motorcycles.

These three machines were produced by Yuyuan, with the help of Wang Haifeng’s father and several technical experts who found a way to reduce the noise by almost a quarter.

You see, noise is not just a matter of sound pollution.

Noise itself is a form of energy conversion—how can you make noise without energy?

At the same time, noise also indicates machine wear. Without friction, impact, and tremors, how can noise be generated?

Simply put, increased durability, reduced noise, less energy loss, and even more complete combustion—this means even less air pollution.

Mou Miao happily explained all this, thinking that the people sent by Wang Haifeng’s father were really helpful. He sincerely admired that predecessors were indeed predecessors; one must acknowledge their superiority.

In his heart, Feng Jun was somewhat skeptical. Issues of noise and such were not taken into consideration elsewhere, and there were even customers who bought Boiler Camel Motorcycles that preferred ones with louder noises—this signifies wealth in their household.

However, since Old Mou was treating it as a success and was so happy, Feng Jun also smiled along—the satisfaction his old classmate felt from accomplishing something could not be bought with money.

Eventually, Mou Miao unveiled his trump card: with the guidance of the elders, not only had the quality improved, but the costs had also significantly decreased.

This was a genuinely good thing. Feng Jun was not particularly stingy, especially towards friends, spending money very willingly, but the reduction in costs was indeed something worth celebrating.

Never mind saying that interdimensional trading brings excessive profits, who would complain about having too much money?

Thus, Feng Jun directly started a Boiler Camel Motorcycle for a trial run.

While this thing did pollute significantly, it was a mere drizzle for the four square kilometers of barren mountains.

That night, Feng Jun held a banquet in the front building to treat Mou Miao, drinking until eleven o’clock, at which point Mou Miao and his wife simply decided to stay overnight.

However, when it was time to rest, Mou Miao brought up the old topic again, “Feng Jun, think about the forest and mountain contracting. It’s something the city is pushing, and it seems like Hu Changqing has expressed support for it.”

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“Hu Changqing supports me?” Feng Jun exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise, “Are you sure there’s been no mistake? I’ve long offended him to death… Chao Gang asked me to see him, but I didn’t go.”

“It seems Chao Gang also exerted some effort,” Mou Miao moved to the sofa and took a seat, lighting up a cigarette.

He normally didn’t smoke, only after drinking, “I’m not too familiar with this matter, but Dou Jiahui mentioned that County Chief Chi made it clear that Elder Hu supports the county’s maneuver. Otherwise… how could there have been an outcome so soon?”

“Did a donkey kick Elder Hu’s head or something?” Feng Jun had also drunk quite a bit, feeling somewhat tipsy; although he could quickly metabolize the alcohol if he ran his good luck energy, he truly enjoyed the buzz.

Life’s pleasures should be fully savored, lest the golden goblet is left staring at the moon alone, thus he could express his views with great relish, “I’ve been snubbing him repeatedly, and yet, he’s actually willing to help me?”

“Who knows?” Mou Miao responded vaguely while smoking, “Perhaps bigwigs think differently than us, and Elder Hu… actually really wants to develop Yunyuan well.”

Hu Changqing wants to develop Yunyuan well—Feng Jun truly believed this. The big boss of Yunyuan’s hill, acknowledged by the predecessors and having inherited the relevant political legacy, still often lived in Yunyuan after retirement; how could such a person not want to develop his hometown?

But developing the hometown wasn’t something a has-been could decide, and certainly not against the will of the whole province, let alone the country. Yunyuan was placed quite far behind in the province’s development schedule.

Thus, while developing the hometown was significant, it was also distant. The real task was maintaining one’s authority and quashing all provocations—that was the true path.

Feng Jun chuckled nonchalantly, “That said, I’m just worried that he might set a trap for me. Billions are at stake there, and if he reneges on his support later, I’ll have my hands full.”

He had the confidence to speak of ‘having his hands full’; had it been someone else, they might simply sum it up with ‘a complete disaster’.

Mou Miao was well aware of the nuances and, being from Yunyuan City and not a Chaoyang native, he didn’t press the issue further, “I’m just relaying the message. Chi Zhijie also asked me for some processing work, which I gave him… anyways, you decide.”

“You decide…” Feng Jun stroked his chin, feeling a trace of irritation due to the alcohol, “Ah, I just wonder when Elder Hu will kick the bucket.”

He was already pondering several viable plans.

For instance, actively getting involved in the contracting work, leveraging Elder Hu’s influence, and then when the dust settled, get rid of the guy—that was seizing the right opportunity for development and choosing to strike first.

He was certain of one thing because he had Elder Hu’s support, his own suspicion in Elder Hu’s death would be very minimal.

Once Hu Changqing was gone, without facing the pressure of the entire system, really, no one in Chaoyang would be able to hold him down anymore. Even if the county leadership changed, he wasn’t afraid. Feng, with cash in his left hand and his good brother Dou Jiahui by his side, would defiantly ask—who dares to challenge me?

Of course, he was only taking advantage of the Dou Family’s power. If someone foolish dared to cause trouble, did they really think Feng had cultivated false divine skills?

After thinking for a while, he felt this matter seemed workable too, “Alright, I’ll consider it further.”

Mou Miao was already swaying on his feet. Seeing this, Liu Xiaoxuan hurriedly helped him into the room. The couple, though not married, had long stopped concealing their live-in relationship, and she wasn’t embarrassed about it.

After they left, only Yang Yuxin and the two assistants named Li remained in the living room; the others had gone to the backyard.

Yang Yuxin spoke up, “Regarding the mountain contracting, I can help come up with some ideas. I can even make some contacts near the capital.”

Upon hearing this, Feng Jun was taken aback, “You’ve got to be kidding. My contracts… are calculated in square kilometers.”

With such an area, you’re telling me—near the capital?

“What’s the issue?” Yang Yuxin replied nonchalantly, “The vocational school near the Old Summer Palace has four square kilometers too.”

“Hey, hey, just because your daughter got into Peking University through a special recommendation, doesn’t mean you can treat them like that,” Feng Jun looked at her bemused, “After all, it’s one of Huaxia’s top universities. Can I even compare?”

“It’s really no problem,” Yang Yuxin insisted earnestly, “If you’re not doing real estate, but just planting trees, there’s plenty of vacant land near the capital… Real estate requires too much in terms of amenities and policies; it’s tricky to mess with.”

“The capital…” Feng Jun felt the temptation was too strong. Even if he wasn’t going into real estate, just building something there could attract countless young people flocking from the north, couldn’t it?

But after some thought, he shook his head, “Forget it, I don’t want the hassle, and… I don’t like the capital, nor do I need it.”

He wasn’t very keen on the capital. “Not needing it” was a very important reason for him, as none of his business involved the capital. From this point of view, not even Fortune 500 companies could compare to him.

Really, what he wanted most was for his parents to live a happy and comfortable life.

The next morning, bright and early, Chi Zhijie called his mobile phone.

(Update to come, it’s the end of the month again, and as usual, there will be extra updates at dawn, and a guaranteed minimum quota of monthly tickets for July.)