Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

"Alright." Zhang Dabiao cleared his throat, took a swig of wine, and said, "That old man from the Russian bear now—Khrushchev, I think—is just a 'corncob'."

The recorder (the young plainclothes leader) paused, pen in hand, and looked up at him.

"Don't laugh," Zhang Dabiao said seriously. "He likes to grow corn, but growing corn in Russia's territory is just absurd. It's like trying to grow rice on a hillside here—it's a waste of effort. His whole system, this 'nation of the whole people' and 'party of the whole people,' sounds nice, but the people below don't buy it. It's only a matter of time before he's ousted. I reckon it'll be either this year or next year, and he'll have to step down."

The older leader was startled: "Khrushchev will step down? You actually predicted that?"

Zhang Dabiao rolled his eyes at him: "What's so new about this? I can even predict the death dates of two major country leaders with pretty much certainty."

"So what if he steps down? He can't stay in that position forever. It's normal for someone to take his place."

"When I said it would be either this year or next year, it was just a polite remark. Anyway, it doesn't matter if I'm wrong, but if I'm right, I'll have gained something, right?"

The two leaders then realized that Zhang Dabiao, who was sitting opposite them, was the son of Zhang Bansian, and that his family had inherited his skills. His rhetoric was all about probability; whether he was right or wrong, he wouldn't lose out.

"Whoever succeeds him... it doesn't matter," Zhang Dabiao thought for a moment, not daring to directly name Brezhnev (mainly because he hadn't memorized the new leader's name yet), "I think, a new broom sweeps clean, and the first thing will definitely be stabilizing the army. In the Soviet Union, whoever holds the gun calls the shots. As for Sino-Soviet relations..."

He paused deliberately, lowering his voice: "Let me tell you the truth, these two brothers are arguing, and it's not something that can be resolved quickly. We call them 'revisionists,' and they call us 'leftists,' they're fundamentally at odds. For the next few years, I think it will be a period of 'arguing without breaking apart, fighting without war.' There won't be a full-blown war, but don't even think about going back to the days of 'Big Brother.'"

How do you know?

"It's simple," Zhang Dabiao shrugged. "They're afraid we'll really make peace with Russia, and we're afraid they'll really pile up mushroom bombs on the border. It's just mutual intimidation. But there's one thing—the Russians are a huge bunch, with a lot of internal issues. If the new guy can't handle it, we'll have to replace him in a few years."

The older leader narrowed his eyes: "Who should we replace?"

"How would I know!" Zhang Dabiao spread his hands like a bear. "I'm not a fortune teller! I'm just guessing, just guessing."

[I only remember one Putin, but he's only a teenager, and we don't even have any connection to him.]

The older leader smiled and pointed at Zhang Dabiao: "Little guy, you're being a bit dishonest."

"I heard you learned quite a few skills from your father. This Russian bear...you have to calculate its future relationship with our country, don't you?"

Zhang Dabiao paused, then said mysteriously, "You guys really believe this?"

The older leader smiled but didn't elaborate: "Our country has had no shortage of talented and extraordinary people throughout history."

Zhang Dabiao pondered for a moment, then pretended to count on his fingers, closed his eyes and stared blankly for a full half minute before sighing and saying, "If I'm not mistaken, there have been quite a few border incidents instigated by Big Brother, haven't there?"

The two leaders were horrified: "You could have predicted that?"

Zhang Dabiao shook his head helplessly: "It wasn't calculated, it was deduced."

"They are the leaders of the red camp, and we don't submit to their authority, so conflict is inevitable."

"Our falling out actually happened in 1958. They wanted to control us militarily, and we refused."

"Of course they'll cause trouble."

The two leaders exchanged a glance. They hadn't expected Zhang Dabiao to be just a student, yet his analysis was so insightful.

"So what do you think about the mushroom bomb...?"

Zhang Dabiao shook his head: "We don't need to worry about that. First, it's absolutely impossible. Second, our top leader definitely has a way to counter their nuclear deterrence. It's not our place to worry about it."

"If a fight really breaks out, there won't be enough time to run away, so I simply don't want to think about it and I'm not worried at all."

"Besides, they have mushroom bombs, and so do we..."

At this point, Zhang Dabiao realized he might have gone too far—damn this lousy mouth of his!

Is he really drunk?!

The two leaders immediately raised their eyebrows: "You—how did you know?!"

Zhang Dabiao immediately waved his hand: "Just guessing!"

"That's really just speculation!"

"Most of the workers in our compound are from the steel rolling mill. A few years ago, several level-eight workers were transferred away, and their fates are unknown, but their families still receive their wages and subsidies. Why is that?"

"He went to do some work for the country, didn't he?"

"This kind of situation happens quite often in Nanluoguxiang, right? I once donated 10 yuan in remittance certificates. I know exactly how many people in Jiaodaokou have received remittance certificates. If you look at their watches and see what their family background, occupation, and other background were like before they disappeared, you can guess the situation..."

The two leaders opposite him tensed up. After thinking for a long time, the older leader asked, "Do you know where it is?"

Having come this far, Zhang Dabiao stopped hiding his intentions and continued fidgeting with his fingers, then said in a pretentious tone, "The Gobi Desert in Northwest China?"

The young recorder couldn't hold back any longer and pulled out his gun, pointing it at Zhang Dabiao's head: "Speak!"

"How did you know?! Which side are you on? Who's your superior?!"

Zhang Dabiao was speechless...

"Boss, don't be nervous."

"The steel rolling mill often has confidential documents to work on, and the truck fleet is frequently dispatched to deliver goods. The trucks come back covered in sand, and the drivers' skin peels off from being exposed to the scorching sun. Is there any doubt about that?"

"Besides, experiments are supposed to be conducted in remote, uninhabited places to minimize pollution and maintain secrecy. That's the logical conclusion, isn't it? How many places in our country fit that description?"

The two leaders were sweating profusely, but when they thought about what Zhang Dabiao said, it made a lot of sense and was a logical loop!

The two men exchanged a glance, and then the recorder (the young leader) lowered his gun.

However, he was still puzzled: "How could you have predicted all of this?"

Zhang Dabiao said mysteriously, "One part calculation, three parts observation, and six parts reasoning."

"With a large enough sample size, the results will naturally be more accurate."

"This is not feudal superstition; to be precise, it is mathematics, probability."

The older leader also asked, "You...you're still just a student, why are you observing so closely? And why are you paying attention to these things?"

Zhang Dabiao said confidently, "Hey, you two leaders, don't underestimate me."

"I studied painting, and meticulous observation is one of my strengths, okay?"

Don't underestimate art students, especially those who failed their art entrance exams!

Zhang Dabiao's words left the two leaders speechless; they made perfect sense and formed a logical loop.

"So tell me, when can we successfully develop it?" the young recorder asked, intrigued.

Zhang Dabiao's eyes lit up—

"By the end of this year!"