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

Jingzhou, office of the deputy general manager of Ruilong Group.

Du Bozhong leaned back in his leather chair, a cigarette between his fingers, but he didn't light it.

Two files were spread out on the table—Wu Xiang's and Yang Fan's personal resumes and interpersonal relationships, a thick stack of papers that he read over and over three times.

"Oh shit."

The documents were left on the table.

Du Bozhong stood up and walked to the window. Outside the window was the gray sky of Jingzhou, and rows of cranes in the distance looked like chopsticks stuck in the ground.

Wu Xiang's file is too clean. He spent four years at the Municipal Planning Commission, and two years as a section chief without any promotion. This assignment to Qingping is a normal organizational transfer. As for "improper means"—his uncle Wu Chunlin did help, but it was a recommendation within the rules, with complete procedures and compliance. There's nothing wrong with it.

Yang Fan was cleaner, even thinner. He completed his bachelor's and master's degrees at Handong University, served as the student union president, and volunteered to work at the grassroots level after graduation.

During my two years in Qingping, I handled many projects with clear accounts and no illicit income. During my postgraduate studies, I wrote novels in my spare time, earning stable royalties and never lacking money.

People who are not short of money are the most difficult to deal with.

Du Bozhong returned to the table, picked up his cigarette, lit it, and took a puff.

Since no economic problems can be found—

"Then we'll have to think of another way."

He exhaled a puff of smoke, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.

"Old Zhou, do me two favors."

The first item is Wu Xiang.

Du Bozhong had no intention of touching Wu Chunlin. Zhao Ruilong's current power base wasn't big enough, and it wouldn't be worth it to mess with a vice mayor.

But you can always make an example of someone – fabricate some material saying that there were “procedural doubts” when Wu Xiang was transferred from the Municipal Planning Commission to the position of Party Secretary of Qingping Township. You don’t need solid evidence; just have the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection conduct a preliminary verification and question him for a couple of days. That will be enough.

Even if a section-level cadre is summoned for questioning by the Discipline Inspection Commission and nothing comes of it in the end, the trouble he's caused will still be enough to give him a hard time.

The second thing is Yang Fan.

Du Bozhong turned to the "Social Relationships" page in Yang Fan's file. A graduate of Han Dong University and the student council president, his social relationships were shockingly simple—he didn't drink with businessmen, socialize, or form cliques; all he did was work!

But there's one thing—he occasionally goes to meetings in the county.

After a meeting, there always has to be a meal, especially for banquets held for important tasks at the county level.

After pondering for a while, Du Bozhong picked up the phone on the table.

"County Chief Fang, it's me, Du Bozhong from Ruilong Group. I have a small favor to ask you."

On the other end of the phone, Fang Hang, the deputy county head of Anyang County, sounded somewhat cautious. "Mr. Du, what is it?"

"Are you familiar with Yang Fan from Qingping Township?"

"Yang Fan? I'm not very familiar with him. I've only seen him a few times in meetings. He doesn't go to the county very often. Even when he does come, he usually goes to see County Magistrate Ma, or directly to Secretary Wu and County Chief Li."

"If there's any meeting in the county these days, find him for a drink, and after that—"

Du Bozhong paused for a moment.

"Find a way to get him to drive back."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Mr. Du, about this matter—"

"County Chief Fang, I heard that your daughter is about to graduate from high school. Mr. Zhao has a few spots available at Singapore University."

"Of course, for outstanding students, Ruilong Group will fully support them to return home after completing their studies!"

Fang Hang fell silent immediately. Singapore University, free?

"Alright, I'll see how it goes."

Du Bozhong hung up the phone and dialed another one.

"Director Zhang, this is Du Bozhong from Ruilong Group! I need to give you a heads-up. In a few days, there might be a drunk driver in Anyang County. Please assign a few capable young men to take immediate action when you receive the call!"

A laugh came from the other end of the phone. "Mr. Du, this is easy. Give me the license plate number?"

"I'll give it to you then."

Click.

Du Bozhong put down the microphone, leaned back in his chair, and looked out the window. The crane was still turning, and the sky over Jingzhou was hazy with low-hanging clouds.

The two incidents—hitting Wu Xiang and hitting Yang Fan—were neither fatal, but they were painful enough.

When it hurts, you'll know which side to stand on.

He stubbed out his cigarette, got up, and walked outside.

Zhao Ruilong's office was at the end of the corridor. The door wasn't closed properly, so Du Bozhong knocked on it.

"Come in."

Zhao Ruilong was half-reclining on the sofa, his arms around a long-haired woman wearing a cheongsam with a slit that went up to her thigh. Several glasses of red wine were on the coffee table, two of them already empty.

Du Bozhong kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Mr. Zhao, I've made arrangements regarding those two people in Qingping."

Zhao Ruilong didn't even lift his eyelids. "Speak."

Du Bozhong gave a brief report on the plan: Wu Xiang would fabricate materials for preliminary verification by the Discipline Inspection Commission, while Yang Fan would set up a drunk driving incident. The two lines of investigation would proceed simultaneously, with the timeframe controlled within a week, giving them no chance to react.

After listening, Zhao Ruilong took his hand off the woman's shoulder and picked up his wine glass, swirling it around.

"These two little things, after all that searching, they're this clean?"

Du Bozhong curled his lip. "Time was tight, so there might be some things we missed. But this is enough to deal with two section chiefs."

He paused.

"Besides, we're also trying to save lives! We still need to consider their financial situation!"

Zhao Ruilong chuckled. "Healing and saving lives—Old Du, what the hell are you using that phrase for? Which college girl did you find this time?"

Du Bozhong smiled but didn't reply.

Zhao Ruilong slammed his wine glass down on the coffee table. "Alright, you handle the arrangements, keep track of the time, and don't arouse their suspicion."

"Yes, Mr. Zhao. As soon as Yang Fan is apprehended, Wu Xiang's case will be submitted to the Ningzhou Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection on time!"

Du Bozhong turned to leave.

"etc."

Zhao Ruilong suddenly spoke.

Du Bozhong turned around.

Zhao Ruilong pointed at him with his finger. "That guy surnamed Yang, get him locked up with the best methods, teach this arrogant brat a lesson."

Du Bozhong nodded. "Understood."

He pushed open the door and went out.

In the corridor, Du Bozhong walked at a moderate pace, while behind him, Zhao Ruilong's voice drifted out from under the door.

"What do you think, Comrade Liu?"

The woman's voice chuckled. "Mr. Zhao is always kind-hearted."

"Yeah. Damn it, there aren't any kind-hearted people like me in Handong. Come on, for kindness—"

Cheers~

The sound of clattering glass, a woman's laughter, Zhao Ruilong's laughter—Du Bozhong's footsteps didn't stop; he turned the corner in the corridor and disappeared.

-

Qingping Township.

The lights in Wu Xiang's office stayed on very late.

Yang Fan sat in the guest chair, the ashtray on the table already full of cigarette butts.

Wu Xiang stood by the window, looking at the old locust tree in the yard. The new buds on the branches had already unfurled, tender and green.

"Old Yang."

"Um."

"What do you think Zhao Ruilong will do to us?"

Yang Fan took a deep breath, thinking of the top assassin in Southeast Asia carrying a sniper rifle, and suddenly felt a chill in his heart.

In the original drama, this person dragged Gao Yuliang into the mess, used Qi Tongwei as a pawn, and drove Chen Yanshi to the brink of despair all for the land of Dafeng Factory. Was a controlling stake in a cooperative really worth him personally making two trips, smashing an ashtray, and uttering so many harsh words—and then just letting it go?

impossible.

"I don't know, but I know it will be here soon!" Yang Fan said.

Wu Xiang turned around. "Then what about him—"

"We can only wait and see what happens!"

Yang Fan stubbed out his cigarette.

"He's not moving because he hasn't figured out how to move yet, or he's preparing something. Once he's ready, he might just strike with lightning speed."

Wu Xiang's Adam's apple bobbed.

The office quieted down, and Old Geng's voice came from the courtyard as he discussed fertilizing the tea garden with Wang Dashan. White smoke billowed from the chimney of Hengtong's factory, and the hum of machinery carried from afar.

Wu Xiang walked back to the table, sat down, picked up the jar, and the gray-black iron body was exposed where the porcelain had been chipped off.

He stared at the gap for a long time.

"Old Yang."

"Um."

"Now, I have to think things through before I speak in public. When will this ever end?!"

Yang Fan did not respond.

Wu Xiang put the jar down.

"Today I was explaining the tea plantation to Wang Dayong. I said a couple of things, but then I thought about it and took back one of them, afraid that something I said might get out and become a handle against me."

He raised his head.

"I'm a township party secretary! Even in my own township government compound, I have to think three times before I speak."

Yang Fan picked up the jar and took a sip. The tea was cold and tasted bitter.

"Secretary Wu."

"Um."

"Before Zhao Ruilong makes any moves, we should continue doing what we were doing. The cooperative's bylaws, the management of the tea gardens, Hengtong's factory—none of these things can be stopped."

He paused.

"As for thinking before you speak—"

Yang Fan put the jar down.

"It's over now. What we did can withstand scrutiny, and what we said can withstand questioning. What's there to be afraid of?"

Wu Xiang stared at him for a few seconds.

Then he laughed.

"Fine, if you're not afraid, why should I be?"

He stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open. Sounds from the courtyard rushed in—Old Geng's shouts, Wang Dashan's responses, the distant hum of machinery from the Hengtong factory, and the footsteps of the old yellow dog chasing sparrows.

Wu Xiang took a deep breath and asked with some concern.

"Old Yang."

"Um."

"What do you think Zhao Ruilong will do?"

Yang Fan looked out the window. It was already dark, and the distant mountains had become silhouettes. The tea bushes in the tea garden stretched out in rows, like black waves.

"have no idea."

He picked up the jar and drank the herbal tea in one gulp.

"But there's one condition—he can do what he wants, we'll do what we want. The cooperative's bylaws will remain unchanged. The rosters for the nine villages will not be returned. Hengtong's contract will remain the same."

Wu Xiang turned around and sat heavily on the chair.

"Yeah, he hasn't even done anything yet and he's already scaring himself. What's there to be afraid of!"

Yang Fan slammed the jar down on the table.

"As long as we act uprightly and behave properly, I don't believe there will be any problems! Right now, Handong isn't a place where Zhao Ruilong can simply issue a decree and expect the entire province to obey!"

Wu Xiang found Yang Fan's words somewhat strange. If it can't be treated as an imperial edict now, does that mean it can be later?