Chapter 1465 - The New "We're Screwed" Party
Seeing his grave expression, Li XiaolĂĽ asked in a low voice: "Is it serious?"
"Don't know yet." Xiao Zishan leaned back on the sofa, looking up. "But someone is playing Xiang Zhuang's sword dance."
"Who has nothing better to do than pry into your affairs? Wanting to grab you by the queue?"
"Not sure yet, but this Sun Shangxiang is obviously acting on someone's instructions to reel in Qiqi. Her master's ultimate purpose isn't clear yet."
"Then I'll tell Qiqi to continue engaging with her, to fish for information," Li XiaolĂĽ whispered.
"I'm more worried about the school abolition proposal she leaked." Xiao Zishan was somewhat concerned. "This matter is currently in the internal discussion stage. Very few transmigrators know about it. If she leaks it, it's hard to say if someone will use the opportunity to stir up trouble."
"Indeed. Regardless, if this gets out, at the very least you won't escape a leak violation issue," Li XiaolĂĽ said. "I'm obviously not a transmigrator to whom you should have revealed the proposal."
"Yeah." A trace of worry appeared on Xiao Zishan's face. "Worst case, I'll just deny it to the death."
Li XiaolĂĽ drew circles on his thigh with her finger, pondering: "I actually have an idea."
"What?" Xiao Zishan asked casually.
"Since Sun Shangxiang got the news of the school abolition from Qiqi, we can have Qiqi leak some similar material to the maidservants at the teahouse to muddy the waters."
Xiao Zishan glanced at Li XiaolĂĽ: "You really have ideas."
"Of course. This lady loves reading palace intrigue novels most. How could I not understand these tropes?"
"Mm." Xiao Zishan didn't speak. He remained silent for a while, then said: "How about we apply to the Administrative Office to get married in a few days?"
Li XiaolĂĽ burst out laughing: "Bullshit, you are the Administrative Office Director. Reporting to yourself and approving it yourself?"
Xiao Zishan feigned seriousness: "This is called procedural legality—very important. 'Comrade Xiao Zishan, I, Xiao Zishan, hereby apply to form a revolutionary couple with Comrade Li Xiaolü. We meet the Executive Committee's requirements for marriage application and are willing to continue struggling for the construction of our great motherland after marriage. Hope for approval!'"
Li XiaolĂĽ chimed in: "'Organization decides not to approve. Administrative Office Director Xiao Zishan.'"
Xiao Zishan smiled bitterly. Li XiaolĂĽ was amused: "I just like having illicit relations with you continuously like this..."
Although Shan Liang was bent on borrowing the east wind of the rumor about the maidservant school's abolition to launch an "Occupy 100 Movement" or "Soy Sauce Revolution," his and Cheng Mo's active efforts yielded little result. Fundamentally, Lingao had no true "soy sauce" transmigrators anymore. One could say everyone had a position, everyone had subordinates. Even the most beleaguered agricultural technician or Machinery Factory technician transmigrator commanded a large group of naturalized staff and workers. Wherever they went, they were impressive and surrounded by retinues. One word might not be worth ten thousand, but worth ten or a hundred was no problem. Outside, subordinates and apprentices clustered around them like stars around the moon; at home, maidservants served with care. The original feelings of oppression, deprivation, and neglect had been drastically reduced.
Though everyone had concerns about whether maidservant quality would decline after the school was abolished, no one considered taking to the streets for a mere rumor. Moreover, quite a few felt that after the school was gone, they could simply select people directly from Fragrant Fields—the female students at Fragrant Fields weren't necessarily inferior to those from the maidservant school.
Furthermore, recently there had been a plethora of various rumors about maidservants: some said maidservants would be "regularized" and formally taken as concubines; others said maidservants would be categorized into three, six, or nine grades—first class, second class, third class; still others rumored a batch of "foreign devil maidservants" was coming... In short, a chaotic buzz.
With so many rumors, the original hearsay of "school abolition" appeared even paler. Shan Liang knew in his heart that the abolition was certainly true, and these sudden rumors must have been deliberately concocted to cover it up. But he had no recourse: social psychology was no longer in the state of suppressed dry firewood where a single cigarette butt could start a fire. More people adopted the attitude of waiting until official policies were released before reacting.
Moreover, faced with the rise of the Otaku Party, his discourse power had been significantly compressed. Although quite a few still remembered him as the transmigrator who "pleaded for the people," many now regarded him as "trouble," fearing any association with him. Their attitude toward him was lukewarm; some simply avoided him—having secretaries make excuses like "on a business trip" or "in a meeting" when he came. Thinking of the scene back when he raised his arm on the eve of the revolution and the masses gathered like clouds, Shan Liang couldn't help feeling as if a lifetime had passed.
"These bastards! You deserve to be ruled over like powerless commoners!" That noon, Shan Liang came out of a certain agency compound cursing. The person inside had made an even more thorough excuse, directly saying he was "very busy" and asking him to "come again later" if it wasn't for "work liaison." When Shan Liang persisted in trying to schedule a time, the female secretary said gently with a standard smile: "The Chief's schedule cannot be disclosed." It nearly made Shan Liang vomit blood from anger—knowing that back when the soy sauce faction drank celebratory wine after the Maidservant Revolution ended, this gentleman had drunk the most, slapping his shoulder and shouting loudly: "Brother Shan, just for your public-spiritedness, I'll follow you! In the future, just say the word and I'll grab my gear immediately to show those Executive Committee bastards! Let's see if the people's fists are harder or their mouths!"
"You ungrateful bastards who wipe your mouths after eating! Treating me like a disposable glove!"
Clearly, he had lost his influence among the masses. Transmigrators' "stimulation threshold" was much higher than before. The maidservant school abolition couldn't arouse much interest, let alone incite transmigrator fury.
By comparison, Sister Cheng was right: in a stable social environment, media power was the key. Media could deeply analyze "background," subtly influence concepts, manufacture certain social trends... By comparison, a street politician like himself who relied on street speeches and individual persuasion was ill-suited for the current situation.
However, he had boasted in front of Sister Cheng. If he had zero achievements, how could he "buy in"? Though she had expressed an intention for "partnership," only with greater "capital" on his side would he have a greater voice on the board. Otherwise, relying merely on a bit of hollow fame from back then, what could he achieve?
While he was lost in wild thoughts, his cell phone rang.
The waitress skillfully led Shan Liang into the best private room—he was already a regular here, a transmigrator who spent generously, unlike some transmigrators who were stingy about even small tips. Thus, as soon as he sat down, hot towels, cigars, and fine tea were all served.
Shan Liang drank tea idly. Before long, he heard heavy footsteps coming upstairs.
"Old Shan!" Shao Zong, also from General Telecom Company, pushed the door open himself, put down a file folder, sent away the waitress, and only then laughed somewhat unpleasantly: "Running around actively like this—you want to create Big News, huh!"
Just a few years ago, the relationship between Shan Liang and Shao Zong had been terrible. During the Maidservant Revolution, Student Shao Zong had been a self-provisioning "50-cent party member," supporting every Executive Committee decision 120 percent. Caught on duty at the Telecom Department that night and tense all night, his view of Shan Liang afterward was practically like looking at a remnant of the feudal era. Plus, if he hadn't seen the wind blowing the wrong way, he would have wanted to support Dugu Qiuhun.
On the other hand, one of the key pieces of evidence helping Dugu Qiuhun escape severe punishment—that mysterious PHS call record—had come from the Telecom Department, and Shao Zong happened to manage the switchboard. Based on conspiracy theories, Shan Liang had harbored suspicions that he had conducted some "information manipulation," while simultaneously despising the latter's professional level—the guy often hid in the server room playing games...
However, the world is unpredictable. After consuming quite a few modern electronic components, the "PHS substitute" destined for a short life—Lingao Telecom's first-generation manual telephone exchange system Phase I project—was completed. Most of the circuit diagrams were drawn by him, and Comrade Shao Zong had pretentiously named it "PRISM." The Planning Academy completely abandoned the idea of connecting the entire Hainan Island by telephone before localized industrialization could be achieved, replacing it with much lower-cost wired telegraphy—naturally all tossed into the Telecom Department's bowl.
Lingao Telecom expanding into Hainan Telecom was certainly gratifying, but the transmigrator headcount didn't expand at all. Immediately, everyone bade farewell to their previous leisurely times. Unlike the wired telephone network covering only Lingao and the less-than-six-hundred-user PAS mobile communication network, building and maintaining a provincial telegraph system—even just for a small part of Hainan Island—made the Lingao Telecom transmigrators vomit blood. Although they had all been promoted to senior executives, they had to take turns going to construction sites. Not only did they have to endure harsh environments and arduous work, but most infuriatingly, they discovered they had encountered a situation rare in the old timeline: local natives learned to steal wires! This wasn't something that could be solved by painting "Optical cables have no copper, useless to cut" on poles. They used cheap iron wire, but in this spacetime, iron was a rarity for local residents. Such thin, strong iron wire had great utility in life and production.
Thereupon: strung up by day, cut down by night. Just a few days after the telegraph opened, the signal broke. Sent out to check the line—five or six li had been cut. Some whole villages mobilized to cut it. Not only cutting the wire, they even pulled up the telegraph poles—the asphalt-coated, preservative-treated poles processed by the lumber mill were excellent building materials for local natives.
Shao Zong worried endlessly about this telecom equipment theft problem, running to Lingao to find the police, the army, and wielding a stick himself on construction sites leading workers to "purge" villages along the route. Fortunately, the Qionghai pacification campaign hadn't been long past; under the Senate's accumulated prestige, no one dared openly resist yet.
(End of Chapter)