Anti-gang campaign: Female bureau chief

The occasional sound of firecrackers could be heard outside the window.

Fireworks were banned in Nghe An city a few years ago, but some people still break the rules and secretly set off a few strings of firecrackers in the alleys of the old city. They make a loud crackling sound for a while and then it's over.

The television in the duty room was on, and a skit from the Spring Festival Gala was playing. Laughter emanated from the screen and echoed in the empty duty room.

Several police officers on duty sat around in the next office playing cards, their laughter louder than that on TV, occasionally interspersed with a few swear words and the sound of cards being slammed down.

Jiang Ruolan sat at her desk in the duty room, with an unfinished document spread out in front of her—a draft of the Ministry of Public Security's annual work report, which had just been forwarded by the provincial department.

Her finger traced the lines of text on the report, pausing when she read the section on the crackdown on organized crime.

The report includes a section specifically mentioning Yi'an's experience, using the term "systematic source cleanup"—not simply "crackdown on organized crime" or "special campaigns," but a full-chain governance model that starts with individual cases, delves into protective umbrellas, investigates old and backlogged cases, and simultaneously promotes industry rectification and grassroots reconstruction.

She came up with this term at the provincial department's summary meeting last year. At that time, the department leaders asked her to summarize the Yi'an model, and she thought for a moment and said these four words.

These four words are now written in the Ministry of Public Security's report, but she showed little expression when she read it. She simply drew a line under "systematic source cleanup" and wrote a small note next to it: "The key lies in addressing the root causes, not in campaign-style enforcement. It is recommended to supplement specific indicators for capacity building at the grassroots police station level."

My phone rang when I was writing some annotations.

She glanced at the caller ID; it was Lu Zheng.

She answered the phone, and the voice on the other end carried the unique relaxation and noise of New Year's Eve—there were children screaming in the background, songs from the Spring Festival Gala on TV, and a woman shouting, "Don't let the kids eat so much candy."

This year, Lu Zheng finally brought his wife and children from his hometown to Yi'an. The family of three squeezed into the family building behind the Municipal Bureau to celebrate the New Year. The small house was crammed with four relatives and two children running around, making it as lively as a pot of boiling porridge.

"Director Jiang, Happy New Year! Are you still in the duty room? My wife asked me to check if you've eaten dumplings yet. If not, she asked me to bring you a bowl. She made sauerkraut dumplings, which are ten times tastier than my mom's."

"I've eaten. The cabbage and pork from the cafeteria, and the chives and eggs my mom sent. You spend the New Year with your family, don't worry about me."

"Okay. By the way, Zhao Rui just called me and said there was an emergency in Shiqiao—two drunks were fighting in the street. The police station has already dealt with it, and it's nothing serious."

But Zhao Rui said that the identities of those two people were a bit sensitive. One of them was an accomplice who was given a suspended sentence in the Shen Wangshan case. He had just been released from prison a few days ago and was drunk on the street cursing and saying something like, "Even if Brother Shan is down, I will still live a life of luxury."

The other was the owner of the barbecue stall across the street; he couldn't stand it anymore and started a fight with him. A lot of people watched, and someone filmed it and posted it online. Zhao Rui, worried about the public outcry, asked me to consult you on how to handle it.

Jiang Ruolan put down her pen and rubbed her temples.

Although the security data in Yi'an has been improving over the past year, the accomplices who were given lenient sentences or exempted from prosecution during Shen Wangshan's era are being released one after another and are now scattered back to various corners of Yi'an.

Most of these people have prior convictions. Some of them have spent several years in prison and then found that the world has changed, their former supporters are gone, their former livelihoods are cut off, and they do not have any legitimate skills to make a living, so they are very likely to slip back into crime.

There are also some people who, although they dare not commit serious crimes again, occasionally engage in petty theft or cause trouble, and their disturbance to public order cannot be ignored.

"Let Zhao Rui be treated as a normal public security case. He should be detained or fined as appropriate. There should be no special treatment or deliberate imposition of severe penalties."

Regarding public opinion, the publicity department should pay close attention and report any signs of malicious hype to the cyber security department in a timely manner.

Also, that person said "living a life of luxury," check who he's been in contact with recently and what his source of income is. It's abnormal for him to have money for alcohol so soon after being released.

After hanging up the phone, she picked up her pen again, but the phone call interrupted her train of thought. She leaned back in her chair and watched as a few fireworks occasionally rose and exploded in the night sky, illuminating the outline of the tower cranes at the construction site in the east of the city.

The ruins in the east of the city where four sets of remains were buried have now been cleared, and the foundation for a new resettlement housing project is under construction.

Shen Wangshan's old house—that old brick bungalow in the east of the city—was also within the demolition area. On the day the bulldozers demolished it, many people came to watch. Some people took videos and posted them online. In the comments section, some people said, "The symbol of evil has finally fallen," while others said, "This house itself is also history and should be kept as a negative example."

Jiang Ruolan did not participate in the discussion. The day before the bulldozers arrived, she went to the old house and retrieved the yellowed old photo of Shen Wangshan before his execution—the one on the stove when he was fifteen—from the evidence storage room. She put it in a kraft paper envelope and mailed it to the address of the nursing home where his mother lived.

She didn't know how the old lady would react to the letter, but it was Shen Wangshan's last personal possession in this world, and she had no right to destroy it for him.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, the weather cleared up in Yi'an.

The snow that had been falling for several days finally stopped, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, shining on the snowdrifts on both sides of the street and reflecting a dazzling white light.

Jiang Ruolan handed over her duty shift to Deputy Director Zhao and drove to the provincial capital.

Her mother said on the phone that the dumplings for the first day of the Lunar New Year this year would be filled with mutton and carrots, and that she had to be home before noon, or they would clump together.

She was unusually obedient and left on time. There weren't many cars on the highway, and the sun shone on the road. Most of the snow had melted, with only a few white patches remaining on the shoulder.

When she got home, Song Wanqing was standing in front of the stove making dumplings. Hearing the door open, she called out without turning her head, "Wash your hands, almost done."

Three more plates of pastries were placed in front of her father's photo on the coffee table in the living room. This time, there was an extra plate of peanut brittle—it was from the old brand that her father loved to eat most, and they only made it during the Lunar New Year.

Jiang Ruolan walked to the photo and stood there for a while. She took a piece of peanut brittle, put it in her mouth, and then said to the photo, "Dad, Happy New Year."

Song Wanqing was carrying dumplings out of the kitchen when she heard this. She paused for a moment, then casually placed the plate on the table, her voice remaining calm:

"Zhou Pei called and said you lost two pounds last month. Did you eat boxed lunches again?"

I've told you so many times, people with stomach problems shouldn't eat cold food all the time. Your stomach problem is from not eating on time while working on cases.

"I haven't lost weight, the scale at work is broken."

"Broken? So you're going to weigh it down for you just because it's broken? Do you think I'm a three-year-old?" Song Wanqing slammed her chopsticks on the table, but a hint of amusement lingered in her eyes. "Eat up, or don't blame me if it gets soggy."

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