The Plague God Was Still the Plague God!

Morning.

Health Wine Distillery.

The bank loan had been cut off, practically driving Song Qingming into a dead end. He immediately called an emergency meeting to discuss solutions, but nothing came of it. What the distillery needed most right now was that loan. Try another bank? Impossible. Song Qingming's first loan had come from the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China, and more importantly, it had not yet been fully repaid; there was still a substantial gap. With that hanging over them, no other bank would possibly lend to the distillery.

What was he supposed to do?

Was he going bankrupt?

Song Qingming's face turned pale. It had taken only one day for him to fall from heaven into hell. The enormous contrast was simply too much for him to accept.

What exactly was going on?

When had he offended the Branch President?

All of a sudden, Song Qingming thought of Dong Xuebin, and of what he had said over the phone yesterday!

I'll wait for you to beg me to tear it down. Those words were like a knife stabbing viciously into Song Qingming's heart, making his face change at once. Director Tang had said that the Branch President had mentioned the Advertising Card's quality issues. Before this, Song Qingming had not understood how the collapse of one small Advertising Card—one that had not even fallen all the way down and had caused no deaths—could suddenly draw the attention of the bank's Top Leader and affect the loan. Now, Song Qingming finally understood. Dong Xuebin from the Guangming Street Office had been pulling strings behind the scenes!

Dong Xuebin! You're too damned vicious!

Bastard! You've cut off my funding! You've cut off my lifeline!

Song Qingming immediately flew into a rage and called the bank at once, hoping to