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

On July 1, 1997, in Hong Kong, the Bauhinia flag and the national flag of the Republic of China fluttered together over Victoria Harbour. Waves crashed against the embankment, mingling with cheers from the streets and alleys, creating a sea of ​​jubilation. Zhou Jianguo, a veteran revolutionary who had witnessed countless storms, had come all the way from Beijing with Chen Panpan. Standing on the reviewing stand, watching the national flag rise, tears welled in his cloudy eyes. His greatest wish in life was to witness Hong Kong return to the embrace of the motherland; now that his dream had been fulfilled, his hands, gripping the railing, trembled slightly. Chen Panpan stood beside him, holding a small national flag, her cheeks flushed by the wind, her eyes filled with excitement and pride.

After the ceremony, Zhou Jin squeezed through the bustling crowd and hurried to his grandfather and Chen Panpan. He had just left an emergency meeting of the emergency response team, still dressed in a sharp suit, a hint of fatigue in his eyes, but his excitement was undeniable. "Grandpa, Panpan, could you see it clearly?" Zhou Jin took the bottled water Chen Panpan handed him and took a large gulp. Zhou Jianguo patted him on the shoulder and exclaimed, "Yes, very clearly! To be able to witness Hong Kong return home with my own eyes in this lifetime is truly worthwhile!"

The three strolled slowly along the Victoria Harbour waterfront promenade, with jubilant crowds behind them and the shimmering sea before them. They hadn't gone far when Shen Mingyuan called, his tone serious: "Xiao Jin, are you free now? The organization has an appointment that we need to discuss with you in person."

Zhou Jin's heart skipped a beat. After saying goodbye to her grandfather and Chen Panpan, she hurried to the temporary meeting room of the Liaison Office in Hong Kong. When she pushed open the door, all the core members of the emergency response team were already there. Shen Mingyuan pushed an official document in front of her, his voice steady and powerful: "The organization has decided to transfer you to the Liaison Office in Hong Kong as the deputy director of the Economic Division, responsible for the overall work of the emergency response team in Hong Kong, and at the same time coordinating the investment operations of Huayao Capital."

The appointment letter, written in black and white, lay before him, yet Zhou Jin stared at it blankly for a long time. His fingertips traced the edge of the pages, a complex mix of emotions surging within him. The curtain was about to rise on the financial war in Hong Kong, and this position meant an immense burden, meant standing on the front lines of this war without gunfire. But deep in his heart, he harbored a simpler wish—to go to the grassroots level of the old revolutionary base areas, to follow in the footsteps of his forefathers, to build roads and schools for the local people, and to do tangible things that truly benefit their lives.

After the meeting, Zhou Jin returned to the hotel where her grandfather and Chen Panpan were staying. The afterglow of the setting sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a warm golden light. Zhou Jianguo was sitting on the sofa flipping through the day's newspaper; the front page headline prominently featured the grand occasion of Hong Kong's return to China. Chen Panpan was organizing the photos she had taken during the day. Seeing Zhou Jin's serious expression as she entered, Zhou Jianguo put down the newspaper and smiled kindly, "Is something on your mind? Tell me, Grandpa is listening."

Zhou Jin sat down on the sofa opposite her grandfather, remained silent for a long time, and finally spoke frankly: "Grandpa, the organization wants to transfer me to the Hong Kong Liaison Department to take charge of the emergency response team and Huayao Capital. But I... I still want to stay at the grassroots level and do practical things for the people in the old revolutionary base areas. Hong Kong has a heavy responsibility, and I know it concerns the overall national situation, but I always feel that the well-being of the people on the front lines is what should be the most important thing to keep in mind."

His voice carried a hint of stubbornness, a touch of idealistic fervor. Upon hearing this, Zhou Jianguo didn't speak immediately, but instead picked up the purple clay teapot on the table and slowly poured Zhou Jin a cup of tea. The fragrant steam filled the air, and the old man gazed out the window, his tone calm yet revealing a certainty honed by the passage of time: "Little Jin, there's never a hierarchy in revolutionary work. Do you think that serving the people and guarding Hong Kong's borders at the grassroots level doesn't mean it isn't?"

He put down the teapot, turned to look at Zhou Jin, his eyes sharp and earnest: "Hong Kong is a bridgehead for international finance, a window for the nation to the world. Winning this financial war will protect the lives and property of Hong Kong's people and safeguard the nation's economic dignity; losing will not only destroy Hong Kong's prosperity but also shake public morale and undermine the foundation of 'One Country, Two Systems.' Tell me, isn't this a momentous event? Huayao Capital was orchestrated by you; only you can truly understand and manage its intricacies. Once you complete this task and accumulate sufficient experience, you'll have plenty of opportunities to work at the grassroots level. At that time, you'll bring not just enthusiasm but also real skills."

His grandfather's words struck Zhou Jin's heart like a heavy hammer. He lowered his head, looking at the tea leaves floating in the teacup, and was speechless for a moment.

Not long after, Shen Mingyuan also came to visit. This usually meticulous old professor, unusually gentle, patted Zhou Jin on the shoulder and said, "I know what you're thinking. It's a good thing that young people want to take root at the grassroots level. But you must understand that the Hong Kong financial war cannot do without you now. You are the core designer of the plan, and no one understands the operational logic of international capital and the investment layout of Huayao Capital better than you. This is a rare real-world experience, a kind of training that cannot be learned from books, and it will greatly benefit your future development." Shen Mingyuan paused, then added with emphasis, "This is not an ordinary appointment; it is the organization's trust in you and the country's entrustment to you."

His grandfather's earnest teachings, his teacher's heartfelt advice, and the weighty appointment document weighed heavily on Zhou Jin's heart like three mountains. He knew he had no way out. The rise and fall of a nation is the responsibility of every citizen, especially since he had already entered this game, destined to be inextricably linked to the fate of Hong Kong from the moment he began writing the report.

A few days later, Zhou Jin solemnly signed his name on the appointment document. At the moment of signing, he seemed to hear the distant sound of waves crashing against Victoria Harbour, waves that concealed an undercurrent of impending storm.

That evening, Zhou Jin invited Chen Panpan for a walk on the beach near the hotel. The summer night breeze carried a cool, moist air, rippling the surface of the lake. In the distance, the Star Ferry, its warm yellow lights shining, slowly glided across the sea. The two walked side by side on the beach in silence, with only the sound of the waves echoing in their ears.

Zhou Jin stopped only when they reached a secluded rocky outcrop and turned to look at Chen Panpan. Moonlight fell on the girl's face, reflecting the reluctance in her eyes. Zhou Jin reached out and gently took her hand, feeling the familiar warmth of her fingers. "Panpan," his voice was slightly hoarse, but incredibly firm, "I'm staying in Hong Kong for at least three years."

Chen Panpan nodded, her eyes slightly reddening, but she still managed to suppress a smile and squeezed his hand tightly in return: "I know you're going to do something great. I support you."

Zhou Jin felt a pang in his heart. He tightened his grip, looked into the girl's eyes, and promised, word by word, "I will come back and marry you when my term in Hong Kong ends."

The evening breeze carried a salty, damp scent, and the waves surged onto the beach time and time again, washing over their feet and making their side-by-side figures appear exceptionally tender.

The next morning, Zhou Jianguo and Chen Panpan boarded a flight back to Kyoto. Zhou Jin stood by the terminal window, watching the plane soar into the sky and gradually disappear into the horizon. He took a deep breath, turned and walked to the parking lot, driving straight to the Hong Kong Liaison Office. There, he was about to head to the battlefield, a financial decisive battle destined to be recorded in history, which was quietly beginning.