Sharpening the Blade Against the Red Wall: From Hong Kong to Handong

Inside the office of the Executive Vice Minister of Finance, the cool air from the air conditioner dispelled the sweltering summer heat outside the window. Zhou Jin sat behind his large desk, his fingertips lightly tapping on a document labeled "Overview of the Financial Operations of Handong Province," but his gaze was not on the paper; his thoughts had already drifted to Handong, a thousand miles away—the place where he had left a deep impression nineteen years ago.

Scenes from Handong in 1995 played out slowly in his mind like an old movie. The summer sun, the smell of damp earth, the rumble of old-fashioned buses, and the tired yet expectant faces of the textile factory workers—everything was as clear as if it were yesterday. He remembered Zhao Lichun then, the Secretary of the Jingzhou Municipal Party Committee, who spoke calmly and confidently when receiving the Central Office research team, exuding an aura of overall control. He also remembered Li Dakang, who was Zhao Lichun's secretary at the time, tall and sharp-eyed, meticulous in organizing the itinerary, and whose enthusiasm and execution for reform during their conversations left a deep impression on him.

But now?

Zhou Jin frowned slightly. Nineteen years had passed, and the political landscape of Handong had changed drastically, yet familiar ailments lingered. Zhao Lichun was about to leave for Beijing. After years of managing Handong, he left behind not only superficial prosperity, but also the hidden dangers of land revenue behind the Guangmingfeng project, unresolved issues from the state-owned enterprise reform, and a power structure riddled with factions. Meanwhile, Li Dakang, the ambitious secretary from back then, was now a member of the Standing Committee of the Handong Provincial Party Committee and Secretary of the Jingzhou Municipal Party Committee, yet he still clung to the old land revenue mentality. His seemingly grand Guangmingfeng project, while impressive, essentially tied urban development to land sales revenue—an outdated approach coupled with a desire for quick results, destined to cause problems sooner or later.

Gao Yuliang's image then comes to mind. In 1995, he was still teaching in the Department of Political Science and Law at Handong University, a refined and erudite scholar who was a mentor to Hou Liangping and Zhong Xiaoai. However, after entering officialdom, he climbed step by step to the positions of Deputy Secretary of the Provincial Party Committee and Secretary of the Political and Legal Affairs Commission, and his ambition grew increasingly inflated, with his heart set on the throne of Provincial Party Secretary. The "Handong University Clique" that he single-handedly built was deeply entrenched in the political arena of Handong, and Qi Tongwei was its most capable henchman. The two worked in concert, stirring up the power struggles in Handong.

A cold glint flashed in Zhou Jin's eyes as she thought of Qi Tongwei. Nineteen years ago, that young man, assigned to a remote township judicial office and writing job applications with resentment, was now the Director of the Public Security Bureau of Handong Province. But he hadn't cherished the opportunity; instead, he had become a complete vassal of power, relying on currying favor with Gao Yuliang and his superiors, single-mindedly scheming for the position of Vice Governor. He had long lost his former sharpness, leaving only a greasy, opportunistic mentality.

And then there's Chen Yanshi. That old chief prosecutor who always invoked his "old revolutionary" status—I still vividly remember his embarrassment when Chen exposed the loopholes in land disposal at a symposium in 1995. Now retired, he remains active, meddling in government affairs under the guise of speaking for the people, especially stirring up trouble over the Dafeng Factory issue. While seemingly protecting the workers' interests, he's merely satisfying his obsession with maintaining his voice even in retirement—a hypocrite so despicable it's repulsive.

As for Governor Liu, who is about to retire, he has long lost interest in politics and only seeks a smooth landing, turning a blind eye to the various undercurrents in Handong; the Secretary of the Discipline Inspection Commission, Tian Guofu, spends his days spouting "four statements," seemingly outspoken, but in reality lacking in responsibility, only doing superficial work within safe limits, and never truly touching the core of the problem.

Zhou Jin sighed softly. This land of Handong presents both opportunities for reform and development, and hidden dangers of factional infighting and corruption. Nineteen years ago, as a member of a research group from the General Office of the Central Committee, he incisively pointed out the loopholes in the land reform of state-owned enterprises, promoting the establishment of a lifelong accountability system—a seed of "prevention is better than cure" planted in Handong. Now, as the Executive Vice Minister of Finance, he returns to Handong, facing even more complex entanglements of interests and more severe fiscal risks—high levels of hidden debt, inefficient use of funds, and excessive reliance on land revenue—each issue concerning national interests.

"Knock knock knock—" The knocking interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in." Zhou Jin looked up, her expression returning to its usual composure.

The secretary entered the office: "Minister Zhou, the preliminary work for the research you assigned has been completed. Shall I report to you now?"

"No need." Zhou Jin waved her hand, her tone firm. "Contact the Finance Department of Handong Province now and inform them that our Ministry of Finance research team will be conducting a special investigation in Handong next week, with our first stop being Jingzhou. Ask them to prepare relevant materials in advance, especially core data such as local government hidden debt, budget execution performance, and land finance-related revenue and expenditure. They must be truthful and not conceal anything."

"Yes, Minister Zhou, I'll take care of it right away." The secretary replied and withdrew.

The office fell silent again. Zhou Jin looked out the window; the Kyoto sun was dazzling and bright, just like the research trip to Handong he was about to embark on. He knew this journey was destined to be anything but easy; what awaited him were tough battles involving direct confrontation with contradictions and conflicting interests.

But he is fearless. Nineteen years ago, he was able to withstand the pressure and expose the loopholes in the reform; now, he is even more able to use his pragmatic spirit and professional expertise to find out the true state of Handong's finances and solve deep-seated problems.

Handong, here I come.

Zhou Jin's gaze grew increasingly firm, and her fingertips lightly touched the document, as if she had already grasped the key to solving the Handong problem.