Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

As the plane landed, the sky in Moscow was turning from deep blue to grayish-white. Xiaoya looked out the window; the snow on both sides of the runway hadn't completely melted and was piled up outside the edge lines. She took her scarf out of her bag and draped it over her arm, waiting for the cabin door to open.

After crossing the jet bridge and entering the arrival hall, the fluorescent lights were a shade brighter than those in the cabin. Xiaoya walked a few steps ahead, turned sideways to wait for Lin Yanzhou, and only continued forward after he had moved aside.

Two groups of people were standing at the exit.

The group on the left was larger, led by a Russian man in his forties, wearing a dark gray suit, no tie, and standing casually with his left leg slightly extended forward.

Standing next to him was a gray-haired translator holding a folded piece of cardboard. When the cardboard was unfolded, it revealed Lin Yanzhou's name. Although the spelling differed from the accurate pronunciation by one letter, it was still easily recognizable.

Seeing Lin Yanzhou emerge from the passageway, the man took two steps forward, smiled, extended his hand, and said something in Russian. The translator chimed in, "Mr. Lin, Mr. Sergei asked me to give you his regards. He has an urgent meeting today and won't be able to arrive until later. The car is ready; we'll take you to your hotel first."

The group on the right stood against the wall, three people, fewer than the group on the left, but their formation was more orderly.

The leader was a middle-aged man in dark casual clothes, his gray jacket zipped up to his collar. He wasn't leaning against the wall, nor was he pacing back and forth; he just stood there, his gaze sweeping across the exit without hesitation, as if he had been waiting for the same group of people coming out from the same direction. Two steps behind him stood a young woman, holding a black folder in her hand.

As Sergei's man finished speaking and was about to step aside to lead the way, the three men on his right also moved. The leader stepped forward with a steady gait and stopped just near the exit dividing line: "Mr. Lin, hello. We are from the Chinese Embassy in Russia. The relevant departments in China notified us of your arrival today and arranged for us to pick you up. The hotel has been booked, and the car is waiting at the door. Your room has been confirmed in advance, and the check-in procedures have been completed."

After hearing this, Lin Yanzhou didn't look at Sergei's side, but turned to the translator first: "Tell Sergei that I will contact him again tonight." The translator relayed the message, and the people on Sergei's side didn't say anything after hearing it, but took half a step back, making room for the passage.

The smile from before still lingered on his face, but it was fainter, like the gesture of someone readjusting their position.

The embassy's car was longer than the regular airport pickup vehicles, and the windows were darker. After getting into the back seat, Xiaoya glanced at the storage compartment by the door. There was an unopened bottle of water with a Russian label on it, and nothing else.

As the car started moving, the scenery on both sides of the road began to move backward. Old buildings and narrow streets flowed past the car window, the trees lining the streets spaced at roughly the same intervals. She watched for a while, then turned her head and whispered, "There are fewer tall buildings here than in Beijing."

The car drove for about forty minutes and stopped in front of a light gray building. The hotel's main entrance wasn't large, but there were more people standing at the entrance than at the entrances of the neighboring shops: two people wearing dark coats, with postures straighter than ordinary doormen, stood on either side of the porch, one of them whispering to someone through an earpiece.

Check-in was quick. The receptionist took the documents, processed them briefly, and handed over the room key with both hands, without saying a word. As the elevator ascended, the three companions stood in the same elevator, none of them uttering a sound. Upon reaching their floor, the corridor was quiet, the only sound the carpet absorbing footsteps into a barely audible murmur.

Lin Yanzhou's room was at the end of the corridor. After the door opened, there was a suite with a living room. The sofa and coffee table were wiped clean. On the coffee table, there were two unwashed green grapes and a split orange in a fruit bowl.

Xiaoya put her bag on the sofa, walked to the window and looked out. Outside the window was the skyline of Moscow, and the dome of the church in the distance was darkening, as if a thin mist was slowly spreading down from the edge of the roof.

In the evening, Sergei called. Lin Yanzhou went downstairs to the conference room on the second floor of the hotel. Inside, there was only a long table and four chairs, with a pot of hot tea and a stack of documents on the table. Sergei was sitting on the opposite side of the table. He stood up and shook hands when he came in, then sat down and pushed one of the stacks of documents towards him: "Port inventory list. There are currently ten old ships that meet your requirements. The hulls are still intact, most of the propulsion system has been removed, but the main structure is in good condition. If you take them all, the total price is three million RMB, and there will be no additional customs clearance or tax fees."

Lin Yanzhou took the document and flipped through it. His finger stopped at the edge of the first page. He didn't rush to turn to the next page, but first glanced at Sergei before activating his mind-reading ability. He could feel the thin film covering the surface of the information, translating those unspoken thoughts into a language structure he could understand, and automatically adjusting it into Chinese sentence structure.

Sergei was thinking, "Just what rank is this guy? People from the embassy came to pick him up personally, and he's staying at a hotel that ordinary people can't even book. Originally, this batch of ships was going for 9.5 million, but judging from his entourage, if we can get in touch with the embassy through him, it's worth giving him 3 million. Just consider it making friends. Once the channels are established, this amount of money won't matter."

He added, "There are still people waiting to see the ship at the port, but it's okay, the price has already been set. If he can really get the ship to leave, I'll just consider this batch of goods a clearance sale. Anyway, those ships are just paying berthing fees while they're stuck in port, so selling them is better than getting scrap metal. If we can use this opportunity to build relationships, there'll be a lot more to do later."

Lin Yanzhou's finger paused on the page for a moment, then continued scrolling down without any hesitation. After finishing, he closed the document and placed it on the edge of the table: "Three million, ten ships, no customs clearance required. After you receive the payment, dock the ships at the designated location in the port, and I'll handle the rest."

The next morning, the wind was stronger at the port than in the city. Lin Yanzhou stood by the dock, facing ten old ships lined up in two rows, their hulls covered with a thin layer of rust, which gleamed with a dark reddish hull in the morning light.

Sergei didn't follow to the very front of the dock. He stood at the entrance, handed over his credentials to the port staff, and then retreated to the side of the guardhouse, watching the activity inside through the fence. Two other port staff members were standing nearby; one held a registration board, and the other was lighting a cigarette, the lighter between his fingers just closing the cap.

Lin Yanzhou walked to the first ship and touched the rusty layer on its hull. His hand lingered on the dark red textured surface for a moment, not being dragged away, but being completely removed, as if someone were peeling a scene from a film frame by frame. The water began to slowly recede where the ship had disappeared, ripples spreading outwards and then contracting inwards, as if it were slowly adjusting itself back to a calm state.

The second boat disappeared as well. Then came the third, the fourth, and the fifth, as if someone were carrying the entire row of boats away from the dock one by one. This process lasted less than three minutes, and all ten boats were gone. The spot where the boats had been moored was now just an empty surface of water with fading ripples.

At the dock entrance, Sergei took his hand out of his coat pocket and let it hang at his side without any further movement. The port official next to him paused, the pen nib hovering above the registration board, as if waiting for a missed opportunity to write, an opportunity that was slowly being pushed away as the last ripple on the water disappeared, falling into a distance from which it could never be recovered. The port official holding the registration board turned to look at his colleague who was lighting a cigarette. His colleague was still holding the lighter, but the flame wasn't aimed at the cigarette butt. His gaze was also fixed on the water, as if he was reconfirming in his own way what should have been in that area.

Sergei walked a few steps from the entrance towards the dock, stopping about ten paces away from Lin Yanzhou. His eyes were filled with disbelief: "The ship? Where's the ship??"

"It's already on its way. Don't be surprised; this is mysterious Eastern magic."

Sergei's mouth dropped open, his face screaming "Holy crap!": "Well... I won't ask anymore. My mysterious Chinese friend, feel free to contact me anytime if you need anything. Happy cooperation."

When Lin Yanzhou returned to the hotel, Xiaoya was sitting by the window. She didn't ask about the ship or the details of the port: "Is it windy at the dock?"

"It's alright, I just got chilled after standing there for a while."

She stood up, took a spare thick coat from the closet, and handed it to him: "Then wear an extra one when you go again tomorrow."

Lin Yanzhou pulled Xiaoya into a tight embrace: "Darling, let's start our honeymoon tonight!"