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

In Ningzhou in the twelfth lunar month, the wind felt like knives on your face.

Yang Fan emerged from the municipal government compound, carrying a briefcase, his cotton-padded coat collar turned up high.

Today's meeting lasted quite a while, from 2 pm until dusk. It was a symposium held by the city on promoting agricultural industrialization next year. Several county leaders were present, and Yang Fan gave a typical speech on behalf of Qingping Township.

The meeting ended, and people started to leave. Just as Yang Fan was about to go down the steps, someone grabbed his arm.

"Mayor Yang, please wait."

A man in his thirties stood to the side, with a buzz cut and wearing a jacket.

"Who are you?"

Yang Fan scanned his mind for the faces he recognized, but none of them belonged to the one in front of him.

"I'm from the Organization Department of the Municipal Party Committee. Minister Liu asked me to take you up there."

Yang Fan's mind raced for a moment—Minister Liu, his senior colleague Liu Xiangdong, was the deputy minister of the Organization Department of the Municipal Party Committee and the director of the Second Cadre Division.

Following them upstairs to the third floor, which belonged to the Organization Department of the Municipal Party Committee, they found the deputy minister's office. The door opened, and Liu Xiangdong was writing something quickly without looking up, pointing to the sofa.

"sit."

Yang Fan sat down, and Liu Xiangdong wrote for another two minutes before letting out a long sigh. He then called over an officer and told him to send it to the minister for review first.

"You've been running around quite a bit lately, haven't you?"

Yang Fan smiled and said, "There will be more at the end of the year, right?"

"A lot?" Liu Xiangdong stretched and stood up.

"I think you deliberately choose to attend meetings that are inconvenient for Secretary Wu. Last week, at the meeting on agricultural industrialization, Old Wu was clearly in the township, but you came in his place. And the meeting on rural Party building the week before that was also you."

Yang Fan just chuckled.

Liu Xiangdong didn't press the matter. He took out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer, pulled one out, and handed it to him.

Yang Fan took the lighter, lit it for Liu Xiangdong first, and then lit it for himself.

"It's almost the end of the year, and I'm too busy." Liu Xiangdong flicked his cigarette ash. "I should be the host and treat you to a meal, but I'm really too busy, so I won't keep you before the end of the year."

He took a drag, and smoke billowed from his nose.

"It's good that you've been going to meetings in the city lately and getting some recognition, but that's enough."

Yang Fan paused for a moment.

"The leaders already know what they should know," Liu Xiangdong said, looking at him.

There's a saying in the Records of the Grand Historian: "Peach and plum trees do not speak, yet a path is formed beneath them." If you do your job well, you don't need to go around showing off; the organization will notice you.

He flicked the ashes into the ashtray and leaned back in his chair.

"The hardest logic for promotion is political achievements, and you have no shortage of those."

"Your Qingping GDP has tripled this year, mountain delicacies are being sold to other provinces, Hengtong has invested 60 million yuan, and Xiaoguan Tea has already expanded to Jingzhou—these things are more valuable than anything else if they are in the archives."

Yang Fan remained silent.

Liu Xiangdong lowered his voice: "Professor Zhou's article was published in the Handong Daily, and your name, Yang Fan, is now on the city's radar. As long as the county can submit the list, the city's organization department will have no problem."

Yang Fan's Adam's apple bobbed.

That's quite clear; all he's after is the position of township party secretary, a mid-level position. It's not the city's place to worry about officials at that level.

My senior's meaning was simple—you don't need to go to the city so often anymore, I'll keep an eye on things for you, as long as there are no problems in the county.

"Thank you, senior!"

Seeing his expression, Liu Xiangdong knew that the kid understood. He stood up and waved his hand.

"Alright, I have a mountain of things to do today, so stop mooching water from me."

Yang Fan also stood up.

"After the New Year, come over for a meal when you have time. Your sister-in-law is an excellent cook."

"Then I'll definitely go."

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.

In the next few days

He went to the county twice.

The first trip was to deliver New Year's goods, including gift boxes of mountain delicacies from Qingping and samples of small cans of tea, which filled most of the truck.

The letter was delivered to various departments in the county, and finally went to Wu Aiguo's office.

Wu Aiguo was reviewing documents when Yang Fan handed two small boxes of tea to his secretary, Xiao Zhang. Wu Aiguo then looked up and glanced at them.

"here we go again!"

"It's Chinese New Year, you know." Yang Fan said, standing up. "Secretary Wu, the data for Qingping this year is out: GDP of 60 million, and per capita GDP of 4,800."

"I know." Wu Aiguo put down his pen. "I've read the materials you submitted."

He stared at Yang Fan for two seconds.

"It seems you know that Wu Xiang is leaving."

Yang Fan replied without hesitation, "I know."

"Just keep it in mind." Wu Aiguo picked up the teacup, blew on the tea leaves, and said, "Let's get through the New Year first. We can plan for the work after the New Year."

Yang Fan nodded. Before leaving, Wu Aiguo added another sentence.

"Do a good job in Qingping."

Yang Fan sat in Li Jianmin's office for a while, and then went to Ma Zemin, the executive deputy county head.

Ma Zemin was even busier than him, constantly on the phone, and the two barely exchanged a few words. Ma Zemin looked at the small can of tea packaging, picked it up, and examined it from all angles.

"This thing, it's really selling for ninety-eight? Not that suggested retail price you came up with?"

"Of course, even this is limited in quantity, and people in Jingzhou are scrambling to get it."

Ma Zemin clicked his tongue twice and put the box down: "The tea plantation expansion plan for next year must be thoroughly developed."

"OK."

On the way back to Qingping, Yang Fan sat in the car, looking out at the winter fields.

For some reason, I suddenly remembered the days I spent working in my past life.

Ostracized by colleagues, with empty promises from the boss, working overtime until the early hours of the morning and returning home to a cold, empty bed.

What now?

Old Ma went from being cold-faced to becoming an ally; Wang Dashan went from being a skeptic to becoming the first farmer to participate in the pilot program; and Lao Geng went from squatting at the village entrance smoking to going door-to-door with an account book to oversee quality control.

Wu Xiang, this privileged son of a high-ranking official, stubbornly used himself as a shield to block bullets.

Even a privileged young master like Zhao Ruilong, after smashing the ashtray, could still come back smiling and spend real money to cooperate with you for mutual benefit.

Once you reach a certain position, or demonstrate sufficient ability, you will be surrounded by excellent and good people!

On the 27th day of the twelfth lunar month, Wu Xiang cornered Yang Fan at the office door.

"I'll cover all your shifts since you're going home for Chinese New Year this year."

"Secretary Wu—"

"Does my word no longer carry weight?" Wu Xiang took out a cigarette and lit it. "My days in Qingping are numbered. I'll take over this year's shift. You only came home for three days in total for the past two years. Do you really think you're some kind of high-ranking monk?"

Yang Fan opened his mouth.

"Hurry up and get going." Wu Xiang exhaled a puff of smoke. "Next spring, there's tea plantation expansion, cooperative dividends, and the county's two sessions—you'll be busy. These few days off are on my approval."

Yang Fan looked at him. Wu Xiang turned his face away and waved his hand.

"By the way, Xiao Chen is taking a car to the city to deliver some documents later. Can he give you a ride?"