Chapter 630: The Iron Fist of Socialism

Jiang Weiming's slap seemed to have knocked the power of speech right out of Jiang Yanlu. He stood frozen on the spot, unable to utter a word, mouth slightly open, holding his cheek, his expression indistinguishable between shock and an inexpressible mix of emotions.

"Get out, don't block the TV; I don't want to hit you a second time," Jiang Weiming continued watching television, no longer paying any attention to Jiang Yanlu, as if what had just happened was a trivial matter.

At this moment, Jiang Weiming radiated the aura of a mafia boss.

Upon reflection, throughout Jiang Weiming's tumultuous life, experiences of war, desertion, and even fleeing over mountains into Shu land to evade capture, 90% of fugitives and mafia bosses had not led a life as thrilling or as rich as his.

It was only now that Jiang Zhe, belatedly realizing the situation, recognized that the plot had completely deviated from his previous expectations—his carefully planned script was now utterly useless.