Nominal: My senior brothers are all big shots

Lin Feng frowned slightly. Grandpa Su took a photograph from a drawer and pushed it in front of Lin Feng. The photograph showed a man in his fifties, wearing a dark jacket, standing next to an SUV, with a mine behind him. His face was kind, even somewhat simple, but his eyes were sharp.

"Zhou Tianming," Old Master Su's voice was very calm, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

"He's Old Zhou's nephew. He served in the army in his early years, and after being discharged, he returned to Pingjiang and worked in the mines before starting his own company. On the surface, he was a legitimate businessman engaged in rare earth trading, but in reality, he profited the lion's share of rare earth smuggling in Pingjiang. He was involved in organized crime, illegal mining, and violent protection of mines. When Old Zhou told me these things, his hands were shaking. He said he felt sorry for the people of Pingjiang and for his comrades who died on the battlefield."

Lin Feng looked at the man in the photo and fell silent.

Grandpa Su continued, "Old Zhou knew what his nephew had done. He had spoken out, cursed him, and even reported him to the Discipline Inspection Commission. But Zhou Tianming had too many people behind him, and his network of connections was too deep, so the report went unanswered. He could only watch as his nephew dragged Pingjiang into the mire step by step."

Lin Feng looked up at Grandpa Su: "Grandpa, is the problem in Pingjiang more than just rare earth smuggling?"

Grandpa Su shook his head, pointing to the markings on the map: "Rare earth chaos, rampant smuggling, and the entrenched presence of organized crime. These three things are like three venomous snakes coiled around Pingjiang. Zhou Tianming is the head, with branches large and small below him. He controls the mines, employs thugs, and colludes with some officials. Over the years, anyone who disobeyed him has either been suppressed, transferred, or met with an accident. Few officials in Pingjiang dare to defy him."

He paused, his gaze growing even heavier: "Your trip this time isn't just about the economy. Pingjiang's economy needs development, and the rare earth industry needs to be rectified, but more importantly, you need to dig out those malignant tumors entrenched in Pingjiang, one by one. Old Zhou told me he's not afraid of airing his dirty laundry in public. He said he'd rather Zhou Tianming go to jail than watch him continue to wreak havoc on Pingjiang."

Lin Feng remained silent for a long time. The night outside the window was deep, and the light in the study appeared particularly dim. He raised his head, looked at Old Master Su, and said calmly, "Grandpa, I understand. Don't worry, I will handle the matter in Pingjiang."

Grandpa Su looked at him, his eyes filled with something indescribable—gratification, expectation, and a hint of guilt. "Lin Feng, I shouldn't have entrusted this matter to you. You're still young, and you have a long road ahead of you. The waters of Pingjiang are too deep, and Zhou Tianming's power is too great. I'm afraid you..." He didn't finish his sentence, but Lin Feng understood what he meant.

"Grandpa," Lin Feng's voice was soft but firm, "I am a Party member. The organization sent me to Pingjiang, so I went to Pingjiang. No matter how deep the water is, I have to wade through it."

Grandpa Su looked at him and suddenly smiled. The smile was faint, but warm. "Good. I, Old Zhou, didn't misjudge you."

He lowered his head and took out a letter from the drawer. The envelope was yellowed, and a few words were written on it in calligraphy: "To Comrade Lin Feng."

"This is a letter from Old Zhou to you. He originally wanted to give it to you in person, but he was unwell and hospitalized. He said that when you arrive in Pingjiang, you should visit him first."

Lin Feng took the letter, but didn't open it; he carefully put it in his pocket.

Grandpa Su leaned back in his wheelchair, closed his eyes, and looked exhausted. After a long while, he suddenly said again, "Lin Feng, Zhou Tianming is Old Zhou's nephew. Old Zhou has lived a life worthy of the Party and the people, but he has let down his hometown. He suffered in his heart, do you know that?"

Lin Feng nodded: "I know."

Grandpa Su opened his eyes, looked at him, and there was a deep sense of entrustment in his gaze: "So, when you go to Pingjiang, don't hold back. Arrest those who should be arrested, and deal with those who should be dealt with. Old Zhou said he doesn't blame you. He will only thank you."

Lin Feng stood up, walked to Grandpa Su, squatted down, and took his hand: "Grandpa, don't worry. I won't let you and Grandpa Zhou down."

Grandpa Su nodded without speaking. A gentle night breeze blew in through the window, ruffling the map on the table. Lin Feng stood up and helped Grandpa Su out of the study. The corridor was dimly lit and quiet, like another world.

The next morning, Lin Feng left the Su family's old residence. Su Wanqing saw him to the door, standing in the morning light, her eyes a little red.

Lin Feng held her hand and whispered, "Wait for me to come back."

Su Wanqing nodded without saying anything.

Zhou Shouzhen stood under the eaves, holding a bowl of medicine in her hand. Looking at him, she only said one sentence: "Go. I'll take care of things at home."

Lin Feng got into the car. The car drove out of the old house and onto the wide streets of Beijing.

He sat in the back seat, took the letter out of his pocket, and opened it. The letter was short, only one page long, and the handwriting was trembling, as if an old man was writing it with his last bit of strength.

"Comrade Lin Feng: Pingjiang is my hometown, and also my deepest sorrow. In my whole life, I have fought in wars, been wounded, and believe that I have done right by the Party and the people. But I have failed Pingjiang. The rare earth there is a national treasure, yet it has been stolen and sold by some people. The people there are simple and kind, yet they have been oppressed and harmed by some people. I am old and can no longer manage. You are the person sent by the organization, and I trust you. When you get to Pingjiang, do not be lenient. Arrest those who should be arrested and punish those who should be punished. Please apologize to the elders and folks of Pingjiang for me, and tell them that Old Zhou has failed them."

After reading the letter, Lin Feng carefully folded it and put it back in the envelope.

When Lin Feng got out of the car in front of the Organization Department building, the sky had just cleared up.

Last night's rain washed the capital clean, and sunlight streamed through the clouds, illuminating the national emblem on the rooftop and reflecting a golden glow. He straightened his collar and entered the building.

Su Bingheng's office was on the eighth floor. The door was open, and his secretary led him in and gently closed the door behind him. Su Bingheng was standing by the window with his back to the door. Hearing footsteps, he turned around.

"You've arrived?" Su Bingheng's voice was as calm as ever.

Lin Feng nodded: "Dad."

Su Bingheng gestured for him to sit down, and then sat down opposite him. He skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the point. "Did the old man tell you about the situation in Pingjiang?"

Lin Feng nodded: "I did."

Su Bingheng paused for a moment, then took a document from the drawer and pushed it in front of Lin Feng.

The document wasn't thick, only a few pages long. Lin Feng opened it; the first page was a map of Pingjiang City, with several areas marked in red—mines, docks, and development zones.

The second page was a list with more than a dozen names, some circled in red and others underlined in blue. The name at the very top was Zhou Tianming.

"Zhou Tianming, Chairman of Pingjiang Tiansheng Group, and a representative of the Municipal People's Congress." Su Bingheng's voice was calm, as if he were reading out an ordinary cadre's resume.