Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

New Year's Eve, Fang Family Ancestral Hall.

The courtyard was small, paved with blue bricks, and in the center stood a huge bronze cauldron, inside which incense and candles burned, and wisps of smoke rose and swirled in the night breeze.

The main hall door was open, and inside were the ancestral tablets of the Fang family, row upon row, densely packed. Three hundred years of war and glory were condensed in this room of less than fifty square meters.

The Fang family members stood in three rows.

At the very front stood the patriarch of the Fang family, Fang Xinglin. He was ninety-three years old, dressed in a faded old military uniform, his chest adorned with medals. Each medal represented a battle; each medal represented a life.

Behind him stood Fang Jingxiu's father, Fang Zhenguo, the commander-in-chief of the Northern Defense Zone, who had just been promoted last year. He was dressed in civilian clothes, a dark gray overcoat, and without a military cap.

Beside him was Fang Jingxiu's mother, wearing a dark scarf and holding a bouquet of incense.

Fang Jingxiu stood in the third row. He wore a black cashmere overcoat over a dark gray suit, without a tie. Beside him were several cousins ​​and a few distant relatives whose names he didn't know.

No one spoke, no one whispered, only the night wind blew through the courtyard, stirring the incense ash in the bronze cauldron.

Fang Xinglin slowly raised his hand. His hand was withered and thin, with bulging veins, but it was steady and firm, without the slightest tremor.

"Offer incense."

Fang Zhenguo stepped forward, took the three incense sticks, lit them, raised them above his head with both hands, and bowed deeply. Then he inserted the incense sticks into the bronze cauldron and stepped back.

Fang Jingxiu stepped forward. He also lit three incense sticks and raised them above his head with both hands. The scent of the incense filled his nostrils, carrying the unique bitterness of sandalwood.

He looked at the memorial tablets, row upon row, densely packed. He recognized some of the names, and some he didn't. But he knew that behind each name was a person who had shed blood and risked their life for this country.

He knelt down and kowtowed three times.

My forehead touched the cold blue bricks, and a chill spread from my knees to my whole body.

The first bow is to thank our ancestors.

The second bow is to honor the loyal soul.

The third bow is for praying for peace.

Fang Jingxiu straightened up and was about to stand up...

Hurried footsteps sounded outside the courtyard gate. It wasn't just one person, but several.

Fang Jingxiu's hand paused slightly. He turned his head and looked at the courtyard gate. The gate was pushed open, and several people walked in. Leading the way was Ning Zetong, the chief inspector of the Discipline Inspection Commission.

He was in his early fifties, his hair neatly combed, wearing a dark blue overcoat, and carrying a briefcase. Behind him were four men, all in casual clothes, but their demeanor immediately revealed their profession.

The Fang family didn't move. No one panicked, no one whispered, and no one even glanced at them. Everyone stood still, like statues.

Only the wind continued to blow. Incense ash rose from the bronze cauldron and settled on the blue bricks.

Ning Zetong stood in the center of the courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the Fang family members before finally settling on Fang Jingxiu.

"Fang Jingxiu, Deputy Director of the Economic and Development Division of Zhongzhou City," he began, his voice not loud, but every word clear, "I am Ning Zetong, Chief Inspector of the Discipline Inspection Commission. Please return to cooperate with the investigation."

Fang Zhenguo didn't turn around; he remained with his back to Ning Zetong, staring at the ancestral tablets. "Governor Ning, on New Year's Eve, instead of having your family reunion dinner at home, what brings you to my Fang family ancestral hall?"

"Political Commissar Fang, I apologize for disturbing you. There are orders from above; Comrade Fang Jingxiu is requested to return to cooperate with the investigation."

"Cooperate with the investigation? What investigation?"

"I cannot disclose the specific details of the case. Please come with us, Director Fang. You will know when we arrive." Ning Zetong held up the manila envelope in his hand.

"Political Commissar Fang, I know it's New Year's Eve today. I also know that the ancestors of the Fang family are all here. But I have no choice. We are following orders from above. We obey commands and do our jobs. Political Commissar Fang, you are a soldier too, you understand this better than I do."

Fang Zhenguo turned around and looked at him. But Ning Zetong's back began to sweat.

"Above?" Fang Zhenguo repeated. "Which above?"

Ning Zetong opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn't speak.

I've said it, so I'm taking sides.

Choosing sides makes you an enemy.

He didn't want to become an enemy of the Fang family.

"Governor Ning, today is New Year's Eve. Three generations of the Fang family are here to pay respects to their ancestors. Whatever you need, we can talk after the seventh day of the new year."

"Political Commissar Fang, it will be too late after the seventh day of the lunar new year."

It's too late. What does that mean? Are you afraid Fang Jingxiu has escaped, or that the evidence is gone, or that someone has tampered with it?

"Fang Si, please."

Fang Jingxiu looked at him without moving. He still held the three incense sticks in his hand, the tips of the incense burning and the smoke curling upwards.

A voice came from the main hall.

It was very heavy, like a cane hitting a brick wall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The Fang family members automatically made way for him. Fang Xinglin, leaning on his cane, walked out step by step. His back was hunched, and he walked very slowly, each step seeming as if he were measuring something.

But no one dared to stand where he walked. Everyone bowed their heads, including Fang Zhenguo.

Fang Xinglin walked to the center of the courtyard and stood still. He looked at Ning Zetong, his gaze cloudy, like a stagnant pool. But Ning Zetong didn't dare to look up under his gaze.

"Damn it," Fang Xinglin said.

"When my grandfather was fighting, he couldn't even get a full meal or a sip of hot water. On New Year's Eve, he would lie in the snow, gnawing on frozen, hard dry rations. Enemy shells would fly overhead, and nobody knew if they would live to see the sun rise the next day."

He paused, then slammed his cane heavily on the ground.

"Our Fang family, through generations of ancestors, over the past three hundred years, has seen no cowards among those who died in battle, starved, or worked themselves to death. Today, this old man simply wants to have a reunion dinner with the descendants of the Fang family. You…"

He looked at Ning Zetong.

"Should we stop them too?"

Ning Zetong kept his head down, not daring to utter a sound. His back was already soaked with sweat, and sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead.

He knew who Fang Xinglin was.

He had seven gunshot wounds and three shrapnel wounds. He lived to be ninety-three, and could still stand here, leaning on his cane and cursing him as a bastard.

Such a person is someone you can't afford to offend, not only his boss, but also his boss's superior.

"Young comrade, I won't make things difficult for you. You have your responsibilities, and I understand that. But I have a question for you... Do you know how much blood the Fang family has shed and how many people have died for Zhongzhou, generation after generation?"

Fang Xinglin continued, "Today, the Fang family's descendants just want to have a reunion dinner. Tell me, old man... can't we even have this meal?"

Ning Zetong's hands began to tremble. This wasn't a question; it was flattery.

If he says no, he's disrespecting the Fang family. Disrespecting the Fang family means disrespecting the military. He might end up being transferred to some pond as a manager tomorrow.

Ning Zetong took a deep breath and lowered his head. "Old leader, you're right. Today is New Year's Eve, a day for the Fang family to reunite. I... I'll come back after the seventh day of the new year to invite Director Fang back for a chat."

He turned around and waved to his men. "Let's go."

Fang Xinglin stood there, staring at the door, without moving for a long time. Then he turned around and looked at Fang Jingxiu.

"Get up." His voice was hoarse, but every word was clear. "The ground is cold."

Fang Jingxiu stood up and placed the incense stick in his hand into the bronze cauldron. The incense stick flickered, and wisps of smoke rose, swirling in the night breeze.