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

The atmosphere in the secretary's office was terribly gloomy. Wu Xiang and Yang Fan watched the car drive away from the window, but they didn't leave. They just stood there blankly by the window, each lost in thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Wu Xiang finally came to his senses and plopped down in a guest chair, tugging at his collar; his fingers were trembling.

"Oh shit."

He tugged at his collar again.

"Who the hell is this?"

Yang Fan walked to the window, watching the Audi disappear down the mountain road, and said slowly.

"Zhao Ruilong," he said.

Wu Xiang looked up. "Who is it? So pretentious... um, so impressive!"

"A Beijing A license plate, surnamed Zhao, in Handong it's said to be able to get things done." Yang Fan turned around.

"The son of Secretary Zhao of the Jingzhou Municipal Party Committee?"

Wu Xiang's fingers stopped trembling, and his whole body froze.

"Zhao Lichun...Secretary Zhao?"

Yang Fan nodded.

Wu Xiang's Adam's apple bobbed three times. He opened his mouth, uttered a syllable, then swallowed it back. Finally, he stood up, took a few steps around the office, and then sat back down.

Okay, he certainly has the right to be awesome in Handong.

Wu Xiang thought to himself that his uncle Wu Chunlin was really far inferior.

If Yang Fan knew what was on his mind, he would tell Wu Xiang.

"Don't worry, this is just the beginning of his awesomeness; he'll only get more awesome from here on out!"

"So what he meant by 'it fell through'?"

Wu Xiang muttered to himself, seemingly asking Yang Fan, but also seemingly asking himself.

"He could very well ruin this."

Yang Fan replied.

Wu Xiang fell silent.

Yang Fan returned to his desk and straightened the chair that Zhao Ruilong had been sitting on askew. A toothpick and a piece of vegetable remained on the chair; he picked them up and threw them in the trash can.

"Old Yang, we've really run into a tough one this time. Tomorrow? Heh!"

Wu Xiang's voice was a little hoarse.

"What... should we do?"

Yang Fan sat back down in the guest chair, lit a cigarette, and took a puff.

"The cooperative's articles of association have already been finalized. The city approved them, the county promoted them, and the shareholder rosters from all nine villages have been signed with their fingerprints. Now our township is backing out? Then we're just stuck on this path to the bitter end!"

He looked at Wu Xiang.

"No matter who comes, I won't change it!"

Wu Xiang stared at him for a long time.

Are you sure?

"Sure."

"Isn't that Secretary Zhao's son?"

"Zhao Lichun's son is also not acceptable."

Yang Fan took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"Secretary Wu, I, Yang Fan, came to Qingping not to be anyone's dog."

Wu Xiang's Adam's apple bobbed, and then he suddenly laughed, a laugh tinged with bitterness.

"Fine! If you're not afraid, why should I be? At worst, we can just find another remote mountain village and form a troupe, right? Haha!"

Although Wu Xiang was smiling, the bitterness in his smile was self-evident.

He stood up, paced back and forth a few steps, and then stopped.

"Mayor Yang."

"Um."

"Do you think... he might really ruin the cooperative?"

Yang Fan looked out the window. The old yellow dog in the yard was lying on the ground, its tail wagging. In the distance, white smoke billowed from the chimneys of the Hengtong factory, and the tea trees in the tea garden were sprouting new buds.

"have no idea."

He turned his head.

"But I know one thing."

"What?"

"As long as we persist, he won't fall from grace while we're both in office!"

Wu Xiang stood on the chair, holding onto the edge of the table, and remained silent for a long time.

"OK!"

He was going all out; after all, who hasn't been young and impetuous?

Besides, his uncle Wu Chunlin and Zhao Lichun have no real connection. At worst, he'll just have to stay at the archives for a few years.

Yang Fan returned to his office alone, with the chirping of insects outside the window.

He recalled the hand that patted his shoulder when Zhao Ruilong said "It's over," the force of which was neither too light nor too heavy.

That's not a threat—it's a notification. It's like telling someone it will rain tomorrow; whether they bring an umbrella or not is their business, but it will definitely rain.

Yang Fan leaned back in his chair.

The son of the future top official of Handong Province, a man in the original drama for whom even a great professor like Gao Yuliang had to clean up his messes, is now eyeing a small cooperative in Qingping Township.

Is it worth it?

He offended Zhao Lichun's son for the sake of a cooperative.

He closed his eyes.

At the graduation ceremony of Handong University, when the president handed him his diploma, he said, "Those who graduate from Handong University have certain bottom lines that cannot be crossed!"

Standing on the playground, Qi Tongwei received three pieces of advice. He said that procedural justice is the bottom line, and one should never cross that line, not even once.

Professor Li Shusheng said on the phone that people who graduate from Handong University can be poor, but they cannot be cowardly.

Professor Zhou Shiping said that systems are implemented by people, rules are followed by people, and markets are created by people.

He opened his eyes.

The water in the enamel mug was still cold. He took another sip.

astringent.

But he swallowed it.

Old Geng's voice came from outside the courtyard: "Mayor Yang! Mr. Zhao from Hengtong called! He's asking about the cooperative!"

Yang Fan stood up, pushed open the door, and went out.

Old Geng stood at the entrance of the gatehouse, holding a microphone in his hand.

Yang Fan took the microphone. "President Zhao."

Zhao Wendong's voice came through the microphone, slightly distorted. "Mayor Yang, I heard we have guests today?"

Yang Fan's grip on the microphone tightened. "Yes."

"Ruilong Group?"

"Yes."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Zhao Ruilong?"

Yang Fan remained silent.

Zhao Wendong's voice turned serious. "Mayor Yang, you know who's behind Ruilong Group, right?"

"Know."

"So what do you plan to do?"

Yang Fan looked at the old locust tree in the yard, its branches sprouting new buds, tender and green.

"General Manager Zhao, the cooperative's articles of association remain unchanged, it doesn't matter who comes! As long as I'm in office, it will be the same!"

Yang Fan's words, though firm, revealed a hint of madness.

There was a longer silence on the other end of the phone.

Then Zhao Wendong smiled.

"Alright! Mayor Yang, I, Zhao Wendong, made the right choice!"

His voice suddenly turned serious.

"But I have to warn you—Zhao Ruilong is the kind of person who won't give up until he gets what he wants. If he says 'it's over,' he'll definitely find a way to make it fail. Can you handle that? Do you need any help?"

Yang Fan held the microphone.

"Even if we can't bear it, we have to. I refuse to believe that this bright sky will be covered by dark clouds!"

Zhao Wendong remained silent for a while.

"Okay, I'll keep an eye on Hengtong for you. I'll let you know as soon as there's any news from the province."

"Thank you, Mr. Zhao."

"Don't thank me. I'm betting too." Zhao Wendong's voice carried a hint of a laugh, "I'm betting that you, Yang Fan, can withstand it."

Click, the call ended.

Yang Fan put the microphone back. Old Geng stood beside him, rubbing his hands together.

"Mayor Yang, what happened?"

Yang Fan patted him on the shoulder.

"It's alright, just print fifty more copies of the cooperative's articles of association and distribute them to each village!"

Old Geng was taken aback. "Fifty portions?"

"Yes! Let every household know what the cooperative's articles of association are, how the shares are distributed, and how the money is managed."

Old Geng stared at him for two seconds, then nodded. "Okay, I'll go print it right away."

Yang Fan stood at the entrance of the gatehouse. The old yellow dog in the yard got up, wagged its tail, and then lay down again.

At the foot of the distant mountains, white smoke billows from Hengtong's factory chimneys. In the tea garden, tea trees are sprouting new buds, a tender green layer covering the slope.

Zhao Ruilong said, "If the cooperative doesn't belong to the Zhao family, it will fall!"

But Yang Fan was determined to test whether the path of officialdom was invincible for the righteous!