Official title: Refused to stay at the university, started his career in a rural town.

The news that the Qingping Township Cooperative had been shut down reached Yang Fan's ears on the afternoon of March 12th.

The deputy director of the county agricultural commission, Lao Zhou, made the call personally, and his tone was polite: "Mayor Yang, the municipal agricultural commission's idea is to put this cooperative matter on hold for now. You should organize the materials and submit them for review."

Yang Fan, holding the microphone, asked, "How long will the break last?"

"Well...that depends on the review process."

"What are you reviewing?"

"The main issue is the procedure. Some people say that your cooperative's articles of association are not in line with the spirit of the provincial documents."

Which one does not meet the requirements?

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. "Mayor Yang, I'm just following orders. Send the documents over as soon as possible."

Click, the call ended.

Yang Fan stood at the door of the gatehouse for a while. Old Huang, the gatekeeper, poked his head out, saw Yang Fan's expression, and then pulled his head back in.

The documents were submitted early the next morning.

The cooperative's articles of association, shareholding agreement, profit-sharing plan, and a roster of villagers signed and sealed by each village—a whole large box—was loaded onto the truck by Lao Geng and Xiao Chen.

Wu Xiang stood in the yard watching the car drive away, and lit a cigarette. "How long do you think it will take to get approved?"

Yang Fan said, "Well, that's hard to say!"

Wu Xiang took a sip of his drink and remained silent.

A week later, the county agricultural commission called.

"The data is incomplete. The shareholding details for each village only include names and the number of shares, without a detailed list for each household. Please supplement it."

Old Geng led his men overnight to reorganize the shareholding details of the nine villages.

Each household's land area, number of fruit trees, and output of mountain products were all recorded in a register, one page per household, with their fingerprints affixed.

It was sent up a second time, another week later.

"The calculations for the dividend plan are not sufficiently based. You say this year's dividends will double, but where is the data to support that?"

Yang Fan called Lao Zhou and Zhao Dayong to his office, and the three of them went through the accounts one by one. Last year, the average price of apples was 1.2 yuan, and this year it was conservatively estimated to be 1.3 yuan; the sales of mountain delicacies last year were 930,000 yuan, and this year, with the distribution channels reaching the provincial capital, the estimated sales were 1.5 million yuan; the tea gardens will start mass production in the spring, and based on the minimum yield, the guaranteed increase in income is 300,000 yuan.

Each item is accompanied by a detailed calculation table.

The third time it was sent up, the phone rang again on the fourth day.

"The tea plantation hasn't even produced any tea yet, so why should it be included in the profit-sharing calculation beforehand?"

This time, Yang Fan didn't let Lao Geng go. He took a car to the county himself and placed the tea garden evaluation report issued by Professor Song Huaiyuan, the investment agreement of Hengtong Group, and the tasting record of the first batch of buds this spring on the table of Lao Zhou, the deputy director of the Agricultural Commission.

Old Zhou flipped through it and sighed. "Mayor Yang, it's not that I'm making things difficult for you. The city is pressing us hard; every time we need supplementary materials, it's their request."

Yang Fan looked at him. "Director Zhou, who in the city is pressuring us?"

Old Zhou closed the report, pushed it back, and said with a grave expression, "Mayor Yang, I don't know either. I feel the problem isn't with the materials!"

Yang Fan didn't ask any more questions.

He left the materials behind and exited the Agricultural Commission. On the streets of the county town, the plane trees began to release their fluffy seeds, a white blanket landing on his shoulders.

He didn't dust it off.

That evening, Wu Xiang returned from the city and went straight to Yang Fan's dormitory.

"I've asked around." Wu Xiang sat down, his eyes bloodshot behind his gold-rimmed glasses. "The Municipal Agricultural Commission is tight-lipped. I also contacted people I know, and they only said 'someone is looking into this matter,' apparently at the provincial level."

Yang Fan poured a glass of water and handed it to him.

Wu Xiang took it but didn't drink it.

"Old Niu, the director of the Municipal Agricultural Commission, usually greets me with a smile, but this time he won't even answer the phone. I called three times, and his secretary answered each time, saying that Director Niu was in a meeting."

He looked up at Yang Fan. "This isn't right."

Yang Fan sat on the edge of the bed and remained silent for a while. "Secretary Wu, who do you think it is?"

Wu Xiang shook his head. "I can't guess! The people we've offended are all small fry—like Qin Dafu, a fertilizer dealer, who at most knows people in the county. He's not even close to the level of the Municipal Agricultural Commission."

Neither of them spoke again, huddled together, smoking and looking out the window. Insects chirped intermittently outside, and the lights from the Hengtong factory shone through the foot of the mountain, flickering on and off.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The next morning, the two went to the county committee together.

In Wu Aiguo's office, an enamel mug was steaming. Li Jianmin was also there, sitting on the sofa smoking.

Wu Xiang gave a brief report on the situation. After listening, Wu Aiguo picked up the teacup and blew on the tea leaves.

"The county has been paying attention to this matter for a long time."

Wu Xiang leaned forward slightly.

Wu Aiguo put the jar down. "The Municipal Agricultural Commission halted the review, and the county immediately went to communicate with them. I had County Head Li personally call Director Niu of the Municipal Agricultural Commission. Director Niu said that this was a 'normal procedural review,' and there was no deliberate delay."

Li Jianmin stubbed out his cigarette. "I told him that the Qingping Township Cooperative is a pilot project for the whole county, and it's even been registered with the province. He said he knew that, but the review process couldn't be skipped. I then asked him how long the review period was, and he said as long as the problem was resolved immediately!"

"If there are no problems, then it's off the hook, huh!"

With a bang, Wu Aiguo slammed his hand on the table.

Yang Fan and Wu Xiang exchanged a glance, and the helplessness in each other's eyes only deepened their sorrow.

Wu Aiguo stood up and walked to the window. Outside the window, the county government compound was filled with drifting sycamore catkins.

"I'm telling you the truth." He didn't turn around.

"The Municipal Agricultural Commission is under dual jurisdiction—it is guided by the Provincial Agricultural Commission in terms of business operations, and managed by the city in terms of personnel. What the county committee can do is report to the municipal party committee and government and ask the municipal leaders to coordinate. I have already reported to Secretary Zhao and Mayor Li."

He turned around.

"Secretary Zhao's instruction was: Good things take time, do it according to the rules. Mayor Li's instruction was: The materials must be solid, so as not to give anyone grounds for criticism."

Wu Aiguo looked at Yang Fan. "The meaning is very clear—you must pass this hurdle of investigation! But you can't force your way through; you can only endure it."

Li Jianmin added, "Your most important task right now is to ensure the materials are solid. Every page must withstand scrutiny, and every piece of data must have a source. If the reviewers want to find fault, you must not give them anything to criticize."

He paused. "If someone is trying to hold you back—solid evidence is your weapon for retaliation."

Wu Aiguo nodded. "Old Li is right! Go back and go over the materials again. Don't be afraid of the trouble, don't rush. If they drag their feet, just keep going until they can't find any fault with them."

The two men stood up helplessly and replied, "Secretary Wu, County Chief Li, we understand."

Wu Aiguo patted him on the shoulder.

"Good things come to those who wait; just hang in there, and everything will be alright."

After leaving the county government building, Wu Xiang opened the car door, plopped down inside, and tugged at his collar.

"Good things come to those who wait," he repeated, his tone full of frustration. "I've heard that phrase at least twenty times."

Yang Fan quickly got into the passenger seat, closed the door, and let out a heavy sigh.

Wu Xiang started the car, turned the steering wheel and drove out of the county government compound. The sycamore catkins flew onto the windshield, and when the wipers wiped them, they turned into a white blur.

The road ahead was somewhat blurry, and the future of Qingping Township seemed fraught with obstacles.

Meanwhile, on the third floor of the county government office building, Wu Xiang's car had just turned out of the gate when Wu Aiguo slammed his enamel mug heavily on the table.

"What's going on with Niu Desheng in this city?!"

Li Jianmin sat on the sofa, a long clump of cigarette ash stuck in his hand, unflicked.

Wu Aiguo paced back and forth in his office, his leather shoes clicking on the terrazzo floor.

"He won't listen to the requests of the county party committee and government, nor will he listen to the coordination of the municipal party committee and government. What does this director of the agricultural commission think he can do? He's gone too far!"

Li Jianmin flicked the cigarette ash into the ashtray.

"Old Wu, don't be in such a hurry."

"How can I not be anxious!" Wu Aiguo turned around. "Qingping Cooperative is a model for the whole county, and it's even been recognized by the province. Niu Desheng is holding us back, not because of Yang Fan, but because of our Anyang County!"

Li Jianmin stubbed out his cigarette and lit another one.

"Zhou Anguo came to report this to me once—it's not that he didn't want to let it go, but the Municipal Agricultural Commission was putting too much pressure on him."

Wu Aiguo stopped in his tracks.

"Niu Desheng told him that if the city's materials were not fully audited and the county made a private conclusion, he would lose his position as the director of the county agricultural commission, which was already in the public announcement period, and the city would not recognize the county's conclusion. These were his exact words."

Wu Aiguo clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

"Has Niu Desheng gone mad? What kind of expert is he targeting our cooperative?!"

Li Jianmin exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Old Wu, calm down. We all know Zhou Anguo; he's not the type to cause trouble. Now that the Municipal Agricultural Commission has released Hua, what can a director with dual responsibilities do? He's under the city's guidance in terms of operations, and the Municipal Agricultural Commission has the right to make recommendations regarding his appointments. Although the personnel authority is in our county, if we really fall out with the Municipal Agricultural Commission, we'll be at their mercy when it comes to agricultural projects, special funds, and technical support in Anyang!"

Wu Aiguo walked to the window and pushed it open. A flurry of catkins rushed in, landing on his shoulder.

"So we just let them run wild?"

His voice suddenly lowered, becoming muffled.

"I, Wu Aiguo, have worked in Anyang for over a decade, rising from a clerk to the county party secretary. I was just about to retire when this happened. Old Li, if I just let this go, how will I sleep when I retire, thinking about the Qingping cooperative, about those two young men, Yang Fan and Wu Xiang, about such great development opportunities?"

Li Jianmin stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and walked to Wu Aiguo's side. The catkins were still drifting outside the window, and the roses in the yard were so smudged that their colors were no longer discernible.

"Old Wu, I understand how you feel."

Wu Aiguo didn't speak. The flying catkins landed on his gray hair, but he didn't brush them off.

Li Jianmin's voice softened.

"I'm frustrated too. But right now, we don't know which powerful figure is casting a spell, so we can only wait. Only when the waters recede will we know who's been swimming naked. If you rush in now, risking an early retirement to expose this to the city and province—it might feel good, but then what? Once you retire, will the new secretary definitely stand up for Qingping? Or will he suppress this matter and pretend it never happened?"

Wu Aiguo's hands gripped the window frame, his knuckles turning white.

a long time.

He let out a heavy sigh. The breath he exhaled was forced from his chest, trembling.

"Old Li."

"Um."

"You know—I just wanted to leave something for Anyang before I retire. To leave behind good industries, a good leadership team, and a way to make the people's pockets fuller. Why is it so damn hard?"

Li Jianmin didn't say anything. He put his hand on Wu Aiguo's shoulder and patted him on the shoulder.

The catkins are still drifting outside the window.

The smoke in the office slowly dissipated. The tea in the enamel mug had gone cold.