Chapter 1627 - The Politics Lesson
If the full Senate ever actually voted, whether the land reform proposal would pass remained anyone's guess. That was precisely why land policy had become the Senate's most sensitive pressure point—no one dared prod it, so the matter kept getting deferred.
Now, with the pressing reality of "fighting back to the Mainland," delay was no longer an option. Supervisor Ma expressing himself so obliquely in the special class was surely not an isolated instance; the latest theoretical journals likely contained new findings as well.
Liu Xiang's mind churned in circles, but his mouth was already tearing Latin America to shreds.
Latin Americanization had been one of the primary narrative frameworks behind the "China Collapse Theory." Back when Liu Xiang played "Keyboard Politburo," he had invested considerable effort in this topic. Now he rattled off a torrent of analysis without pausing for breath.
Just as his rambling drifted toward the stratosphere, Qian Xuanhuang arrived to report that Master and Madam had called—they would not be returning tonight. They had to "attend a temporary enlarged meeting."
Both Liu Xiang and Qian Shuixie tensed. Though there had been political turmoil recently over the martial-arts drama, the surrounding environment remained bizarrely quiet. No major operations were underway in any direction. Apart from a handful of departments, few agencies ever worked through the night. Had something happened?
"In that case, I shall take my leave. I'll come pay my respects to Speaker Qian again tomorrow." Liu Xiang rose to depart.
"I'm terribly sorry..." Qian Shuixie looked apologetic.
"It's fine, truly. This counts as rare leisure time for me as well." Liu Xiang smiled. "I'll return tomorrow when Speaker Qian has time."
"Good, good."
"Then we'll be leaving as well." The members of the Girls' Sailor Team said their goodbyes too.
Just what is this "temporary enlarged meeting" about? Judging by the format, it's probably no small matter. Why is Ai Beibei attending? The health department... could there be an epidemic?
Standing on the deck, watching the Girls' Sailor Team's carriage vanish into the night, Liu Xiang could not suppress his silent speculation.
"Yunmi, didn't we already find some of what Teacher Liu mentioned in the Grand Library? Why specifically ask him?"
Little Lin and Little Zhang whispered together in the same carriage.
"Asking always yields something! At least you got another angle for your essay, didn't you?" Zhang Yunmi's response was distracted, her mind clearly elsewhere.
"That's not the point. After that attack, you became so withdrawn—not as cheerful as before. But today you were so proactive." Little Lin suddenly pulled Zhang Yunmi into her arms. "Didn't we promise to be together for life? Darling wife, don't abandon me! Whatever you do, don't go looking for a middle-aged man!"
"Skip the middle-aged man and wait for your little pet Zhuo Min to grow up instead!" Zhang Yunmi pushed Lin Ziqi away with a look of disgust.
"No, no, no! That's not the point! Wife, wife—are you really thinking about a middle-aged man? No way! You're the number-one idol!"
"Can I be an idol forever? Besides, doesn't being an idol just attract those otaku middle-aged men anyway? It's all just for fun—how can you take it seriously? As for the monkeys in the Selection Group, idol or not, there's always a pack of 'ambitious' ones with bootlicking faces trying to cozy up." Zhang Yunmi's expression turned troubled. "I like dressing up nicely and singing and dancing, but I can't dedicate my life to dance the way Teacher Liu Wencai does. Hobbies and work are two different things."
"Hey, hey, hey, wife! Are! You! Really! Seriously! Considering! This!!!" Lin Ziqi was genuinely shocked now, emphasizing each word.
"After the New Year, the First Five-Year Plan will be complete. At the Second Five-Year Plan Congress, we'll have voting rights. You really don't understand what that means?" Zhang Yunmi sighed.
Little Lin's mouth hung open, not knowing what to say. True, her bestie had been withdrawn lately, but she had assumed Little Zhang was merely recovering from the shock and needed time. She hadn't realized Little Zhang had been thinking about things like this.
"But, but... these middle-aged men all have lifestyle secretaries already!" Lin Ziqi finally reconnected, though not following Little Zhang's earlier logic.
"Then what else? Live like Teacher Wu or Auntie Du? Or find a naturalized citizen? Setting aside whether he'd dare take a mistress—I doubt they would—would there even be any common ground?" Little Zhang shook her head. "Once your little pet Zhuo Min is trained up, maybe that'll be possible. Good luck—I'm rooting for you!"
"But, but, why Teacher Liu specifically? Aren't there some like Manor Owner Lu who are closer in age?"
"Oh, those guys have been trying for years to get us to call them 'Onii-chan'—and it always had to be at sweetness level four-plus! Only now do I realize what a bunch of lolicon perverts!" Zhang Yunmi vented viciously.
"Umm... but still, why Teacher Liu..."
"Since we got in the carriage, have I ever actually said it was him? Relax, he's not my type. I was just lamenting the tragic fate of us female Senators!" Zhang Yunmi pulled Lin Ziqi into her arms. "Keep talking nonsense and you won't sleep tonight!" As she spoke, she grabbed Lin Ziqi's twin buns from behind and kneaded vigorously.
"Wife! Please spare me! Speaking of which, aren't you the one mooching a bed at my place tonight? How are you still so fierce? Don't... ahh..." Lin Ziqi squealed and begged for mercy.
The atmosphere in the carriage turned ambiguous. The coachman and guards outside wore uniformly awkward expressions...
Poor Zhang Yunmi still had no idea what major event had occurred today to warrant a temporary enlarged meeting—much less that the agenda of that meeting was closely related to her own future.
In the classroom of the Primus Class at the Academy, only a few scattered figures remained. The faces of her classmates were strangely blurred, yet their names could be recalled with perfect accuracy. On the podium, a slightly plump silhouette lectured on something.
"...Right now, the syllabus for the 'Politics' course is still being compiled. What exactly to teach hasn't been fully decided. But certain consensus has been reached, and those are the things I'm going to teach you...
"...Speaking from my experience, I can only say that the politics class in our old schools was the one that told the most truth. The state is a violent machine for the ruling class to maintain its rule. The law is a tool for the ruling class to maintain its rule. There are individuals who betray their class, but no class that betrays its interests...
"...Whether or not you possess mathematical talent, statistics must be studied well. It is the foundation of all social sciences. Without statistics, social science cannot be called 'science' at all. And correspondingly, if you master statistics, you will have mastered a modern art of governance! Today we will discuss the statistical concept we heard most often in our original timeline: the so-called GDP..."
"...In this world, never inherit your old way of thinking again. You must establish the consciousness of the ruling class."
Such a powerful sentence made Lin Ziqi open her eyes.
She had drifted off again. She quickly raised her head—in any timeline, she had never liked politics class. It always felt irrelevant to her.
She glanced at Zhang Yunmi. Those eyes were bright and focused. She recalled their whispered conversation in bed that morning: about the future, about "boyfriends," and certain topics "unsuitable for minors"...
She was lost in thought when the door was suddenly knocked and opened. A naturalized citizen academic secretary entered—who was also Principal Zhang's lifestyle secretary. She whispered a few words in his ear. Zhang Zhixiang, who had been mid-lecture, stopped immediately and said, "Study on your own for now," then hurried out.
Fangcaodi had transformed utterly from its early days—save for the entrance statue with its ambiguous meaning and its 1980s-era style. Though the playground track was still made of cinders, the grass in the middle had been replaced with specially cultivated varieties. The teaching building had been expanded with two new wings, and a dedicated library now stood on the grounds. The "practical training classroom," once a mere reed-mat shed, had become a proper factory building. The school motto on the wall bore a fresh coat of paint, and a newly designed Fangcaodi crest had been added.
Liu Xiang ran into his former colleague Xiao Zhaochuan, greeted him, and asked about Hu Qingbai's current location. Today was Monday. After the flag-raising ceremony, Hu had gone to the lecture hall to deliver "Weekly Current Events" political education to the Selection Group students. Leaving behind Xiao Zhaochuan—whose pile of papers was high enough to bury his eyes—Liu Xiang headed straight for the lecture hall.
The hall had been built with great care. After all, amplification equipment could not be guaranteed long-term, so exploiting the building's internal acoustics had been essential. At that time, the construction company had "brimmed with talent" and "overflowed with expertise"—unlike now, when most had changed careers, leaving only Mei Wan, Qi Feng, and a handful of others still holding down the fort. Everyone had poured effort into the lecture hall project, personally rotating as supervisors, then testing sound effects, then patching problems before final completion. And so, even standing at the door, Liu Xiang could hear Hu Qingbai's voice with perfect clarity.
He reached out and tested the door—unlocked, as expected. Walking in quietly, Hu Qingbai caught sight of him. After a moment, recognition dawned and he made no fuss, only slowing his speech slightly. Opening the door naturally made a sound, but the students remained still. Only a few boys fidgeted as if to turn and look, then controlled themselves.
Not bad discipline, Liu Xiang thought. He found the nearest empty seat and sat down.
"...I thought Chen Guangji's reflection from last time was the best written. Not because the depth of his thinking was particularly profound, but because of his use of Mandarin—that breath of life in his writing. It's stronger than most. When everyone writes, from time to time you slip into your hometown dialect. Some dialect characters have no corresponding Mandarin equivalents, and you just substitute a similar-sounding one." Hu Qingbai praised this Chen Guangji student thoroughly, then called on everyone to learn from him. Following the students' gazes, Liu Xiang located the slightly thin and slender student—head slightly lowered, cheeks flushed red. Liu Xiang nodded approvingly.
(End of Chapter)