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

Its daybreak.

The light in Wu Xiang's office hadn't been turned off since last night, the ashtray was full of cigarette butts, and the tea in the kettle had been refilled three times.

Yang Fan was also sitting in the guest chair in Wu Xiang's office at this moment, his throat feeling like it had been rubbed with sandpaper.

He spent the whole night trying to think of a solution, not because he couldn't come up with one—the solution was right there, but he wasn't sure if he should take that path.

Call the principal.

So what if they hit him? Principal Wang Jianmin and Vice Principal Su Huaishan could only offer two suggestions: curry favor with the powerful or remain upright and incorruptible.

If you want to curry favor with the powerful? No need to make the phone call, just surrender today and become a lackey of the Zhao family. After all, Gao Yuliang, Li Dakang, and Liu Xinjian are all doing quite well.

If you're so upright and incorruptible, then there's no need to fight. After all, all the pressure is on you and won't reach the school. What, are you going to report the teacher every time something happens?

That's the thinking of an elementary school student!

It was 8:30, and Yang Fan put out his last cigarette.

So forget it. Some hurdles are meant to be overcome on your own!

Wu Xiang leaned back in his chair, took off his gold-rimmed glasses and placed them on the table, gently pinching his eye sockets, his eye bags were so heavy they looked bluish.

He didn't sleep all night, but not here—in his dormitory, he held the phone and talked to his uncle Wu Chunlin for forty minutes.

He remembered Wu Chunlin's first words.

Which road do you want to take?

Wu Xiang didn't answer at the time, and Wu Chunlin didn't urge him, just waited. There was only the static of the phone and Wu Xiang's increasingly heavy breathing.

Wu Chunlin sighed later.

"Xiao Xiang, let me tell you the truth. You did a great job in Qingping this past year; you really got things done. I was originally thinking of keeping you here for another year, then transferring you back to the city and promoting you to deputy director. That would have been a sure thing, and no one would have said anything."

"But now you've run into Zhao Ruilong."

Wu Chunlin's voice trailed off.

"Zhao Lichun's son, the only son of the Standing Committee Member of the Provincial Party Committee of Handong Province and the Secretary of the Municipal Party Committee of Jingzhou! You're telling me he wants a controlling stake in the cooperative—do you know what that means?"

Wu Xiang's knuckles turned white as he gripped the microphone.

"This means it's not just about a project, it's about choosing sides! If you follow him, he can pave the way for you wherever I can, and he can pave the way for you wherever I can't. If you want to climb to where I am now, ten years is a sure thing."

"But if you confront him—"

"There are pros and cons, but adhering to principles is a fundamental quality that every senior cadre must possess!"

Wu Chunlin paused for a moment.

"Your uncle is an official in Handong, though he's not exactly a big shot. But it depends on who you compare him to. Besides, no matter how high his rank is, there will always be someone who can outrank him. Especially this guy, who's only fifty years old and is practically a vice-ministerial level provincial standing committee member! If he's still getting promoted in the province, your support for Zhao Ruilong today will become an insurmountable obstacle on his path to promotion."

"If word gets out that 'Wu Chunlin's nephew didn't even give Secretary Zhao face back then,' do you think it's a compliment or a disservice?"

Wu Xiang's Adam's apple bobbed up and down three times.

"Uncle, so you mean—"

"I don't mean anything by this," Wu Chunlin interrupted him. "You chose this path yourself. I'll just ask you one question—why did you go to Qingping in the first place?"

Wu Xiang opened his mouth.

What was the purpose of going to Qingping?

He'll use this to gain experience and seniority, until he's transferred back to the city and promoted to deputy director.

But what happened after he arrived in Qingping?

Yang Fan rode his broken bicycle back and forth between the nine villages every day. He would take the phone and deflect bullets in his office, and sometimes he would also run around with them.

Yang Fanmo revised the cooperative's articles of association seventeen times. He shouldered the pressure from the county and city governments, replying to letters of complaint one by one, and talking until his lips were worn out by various bureaus of the county party committee and county government.

Which of his actions was "gilded"?

"Uncle, I understand."

Wu Chunlin remained silent for a few seconds on the other end of the phone.

"Good to know! Remember, no matter which path you choose, your uncle will always be there for you, but you have to overcome the obstacles in front of you yourself."

Click, the call ended.

Wu Xiang put the microphone back and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time. Insects chirped intermittently outside the window, and the lights from Hengtong's factory shone through the foot of the mountain, flickering on and off.

He recalled Wang Defa squatting in the yard, saying, "Mayor Yang talked to me once, and I believe him." He recalled Lao Geng holding the list of shareholders, reading it aloud from house to house, and the brief silence in the meeting room when Qin Dafu withdrew his shares. He recalled that despite all the rumors, more than 90% of the villagers still believed in them and in the government!

I remember Zhao Ruilong sitting in his chair, picking his teeth with a toothpick, flicking vegetable leaves onto the desk.

"How can anyone live their life without indulging in a little bit of impulsiveness?"

Wu Xiang clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

Fuck it.

He figured he could just go back to the Municipal Planning Commission and be a deputy section chief for life; he was willing to accept the position at the Archives Bureau.

-

The door was pushed open.

They pushed the door open without knocking.

Zhao Ruilong walked in, with Du Bozhong following behind. Zhao Ruilong was wearing a dark blue suit today, his slicked-back hair was neatly combed and shiny, and his leather shoes made a clattering sound on the cement floor.

He glanced at the desk.

It was empty; there wasn't even a pre-prepared letter of intent, nor any other documents.

Zhao Ruilong's expression darkened.

He glanced at Wu Xiang and Yang Fan again. The two of them were sitting there with dark circles under their eyes, but their backs were ramrod straight!

There was no fawning or flattery on his face, and he didn't even stand up.

Zhao Ruilong's lips twitched.

He walked to the guest chair, sat down, and crossed his legs. Du Bozhong stood beside him, his eyes narrowed on his thin face, like a snake basking in the sun.

Have you made up your mind?

Zhao Ruilong's voice was not loud, but every word was barbed.

"I said all the nice things yesterday! We'd make money together, and we'd take shortcuts together! In Handong, so many people begged me, Zhao Ruilong, to give them this opportunity, but I refused!"

He leaned forward, staring at Wu Xiang and Yang Fan.

"Don't you dare—push your luck!"

Wu Xiang clenched his fists on his knees, about to speak.

Yang Fan got there first.

"Mr. Zhao, I'm sorry, we don't have the authority to change government documents, nor can we cancel and start a new project."

Zhao Ruilong's gaze shifted to Yang Fan.

Yang Fan's voice was hoarse, each word sounding like it was being scraped through sandpaper. "The cooperative is guided by the government, with village collectives and farmers holding shares. Unless the city or county issues a document for us to change the articles of association—but those articles were signed by the villagers of all nine villages, they have to agree. This isn't some trivial matter that anyone can just change!"

Zhao Ruilong's face gradually darkened.

He turned to look at Wu Xiang, his eyes smiling as he sized up the township party secretary who could make the final decision.

Wu Xiang raised his head, his proud gaze fixed on Zhao Ruilong's face.

"Mr. Zhao, that's exactly what I meant!"

Wu Xiang's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady, and the determination in it was beyond words.

"That's what the tens of thousands of people in Qingping Township mean! The industries of Qingping Township should be decided by the people of Qingping Township!"