Chapter 2526: Chen Wuren
"Have a seat, Little Zhang." Xiao Zishan took a long sip of his strong tea and gestured toward the chair. "I've been thinking for quite some time. You've distinguished yourself on the industrial front, but with your capabilities, you could go much further. An opportunity has come up—I wonder if you'd be interested?"
Zhang Xiao's eyebrows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Director Xiao, you know my story. I was a castaway from the old world—no family, no cause worth dying for—which is exactly why I chose this perilous crossing. I was searching for purpose."
"Mm-hmm." Xiao Zishan nodded. After years as Director of the Senate's General Office, he knew every Senator's background like the back of his hand.
"I've spent ten years building a life in Lingao," Zhang Xiao continued. "From basic labor to the Grand Library, from the library to the factories, from factories to Fangcaodi, and from there to the fields and hospitals. I've accumulated so many good memories. I enjoy this straightforward life—easing people's suffering, changing their fates through the technology I've helped replicate. I feel I've already found my purpose."
"So you're not interested? You haven't even heard what the opportunity is," Xiao Zishan said with a smile.
"In this era, opportunities are everywhere," Zhang Xiao replied, matching his smile.
"Sharp lad!" Xiao Zishan chuckled appreciatively. "I see it'll take something substantial to tempt you from your nest."
"Director Xiao, what kind of person do you take me for? If the organization needs me somewhere, I follow orders without question," Zhang Xiao said lightly.
"Oh?" Xiao Zishan leaned forward. "The Organization Department wants to send a Senator with expertise in biotechnology and chemistry to Guangzhou to oversee the Mulberry Dike Fish Pond project alongside Senator Li Yao'er."
Zhang Xiao stared at him blankly, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Director Xiao, I'm just a medicine brewer. Mulberry Dike Fish Ponds are worlds apart from my specialty—the closest connection might be veterinary medicine. You've got an entire agricultural sector full of qualified people. Why must it be me?"
Xiao Zishan raised a hand, signaling patience. "Calling it the 'Mulberry Dike Fish Pond' project doesn't capture its full scope. Properly speaking, it's the Guangdong Textile Industry Improvement Plan. Beyond the fish ponds, it encompasses the silk weaving industry, cotton textiles, and dyeing operations. Your expertise actually fits quite well. Besides, Guangzhou needs more people." He picked up a slip of paper and read it aloud, word by word: "'General-Xiao, Deep-Plowing-Task-Heavy, Send-Senator-To-Help-Speedily.' You're a smart man. I won't belabor the point."
Zhang Xiao fell into thought. The industrial sector was indeed Lingao's lifeline, and after years immersed in it, he understood that building an industrial system couldn't be rushed. Even triggering the First Industrial Revolution would require decades of groundwork. If he stayed in industry, he would certainly rise through the ranks—but ultimately, he'd end up managing a factory, or at most an entire production system. He would remain, at the end of the day, a technical cadre.
Perhaps this truly was an opportunity.
"Director Xiao," Zhang Xiao said, "you've run the Organization Department for years. You understand the principle that 'if the title is improper, authority cannot flow.'"
Xiao Zishan nodded and slid a list across the desk. Shunde, Gaohe, Xiangshan, Dongguan, Zengcheng, Boluo—a column of county names, all formerly under Guangzhou Prefecture. "If you want to return someday, the industrial sector will welcome you with open arms."
Zhang Xiao studied the list carefully. After a moment, he pointed to a location outside the printed names. "I choose here."
"Nanhai?" Xiao Zishan asked, puzzled.
"You said I could choose."
"You, ah, you..." Xiao Zishan shook his head, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Fine. If you want Nanhai, Nanhai it is. However, you lack administrative experience, so you'll serve as Executive Vice Magistrate of Nanhai County. I'll add the title of Guangzhou Special City Inspector. That way, you can offer input on other counties—they're all currently under Guangzhou City's jurisdiction—and take charge when necessary, provided you secure Liu Xiang's authorization first."
After Zhang Xiao departed, Xiao Zishan murmured to himself, "Go on, then. As long as you go, I'll have done someone a favor."
Late that night, a small farewell party was underway in the large private room on the third floor of the Nanhai Café. As Senators scattered across the mainland like seeds in the wind, their numbers in Lingao dwindled by the day. Still, the café remained a favorite gathering spot for those who stayed behind.
"Old Zhang, you're really going?" Chen Huan of the Chemical Industry Ministry wore an expression of disbelief, clearly doubting this decision from a die-hard Southward faction member. "You'll be branded as one of those 'hypocritical Southward types with Northward ambitions.'"
"The higher-ups play divide and conquer rather smoothly," Jin Zhe of the Metallurgy Ministry observed. "Refuse to go, and you're insubordinate. Accept, and you're a traitor to the Southward cause. Before you leave, you should smooth things over with Old Zhou. Don't let this damage your friendship."
"Old Zhou isn't that petty." Zhang Xiao raised his glass of kvass. "We argued for ages, but you and I both know that going south is ultimately for the sake of going north. There's no real North-South divide—it only exists because people keep talking about it. If Guangzhou isn't governed well, the Senate can't take root on the mainland. Whether we go south or north, we're working toward the same goal. That's our common interest." He paused. "Besides, why do you think I chose Nanhai?"
"Nanhai is where Rebel Ma polished his secretary's credentials," Zeng Kun said knowingly.
"Come on, brothers, another drink!" Luo Haitao of the Machinery Ministry bellowed. "To Birdman Zhang—may you have smooth sailing and not end up like Xie the Kun!" He roared with laughter.
"If you turn out like Xie Erren, I'll personally throw rotten eggs at you during the inquiry hearing!" Zha Wuchu shouted, laughing just as hard.
Several days later, Zhang Xiao paid a visit to Yang Yun of the Livelihood Committee's Human Resources Division. When he emerged from the office, he held a list in his hand.
As an industrial Senator who had managed hundreds of workers, he knew it was impossible to accomplish anything without his own team. Though Xiao Zishan had promised to preserve his position in the industrial sector, Zhang Xiao wouldn't poach personnel from his former factory—taking technical staff would be of little use and would only undermine his remaining influence there.
Since news of his assignment had spread, all manner of naturalized citizens had sought him out, hoping to cling to his rising star. But the candidates were either empty boasters, hopelessly inexperienced, or barely coherent. Zhang Xiao grew so frustrated that the big orange cat he'd borrowed from Lin Motian's house—on loan for three oranges—yowled from his agitated petting. He kept his face carefully neutral, saying only: "You won't even address me as Senator?"
In truth, the Senate's mainland strategy was desperately short of capable people. Competent, reliable cadres had long been snatched up by others. There was no reason to expect them to simply fall into his lap. He had no choice but to seek Yang Yun's help.
Loud footsteps echoed through the corridor of the Lingao Special City First Prison's affiliated factory. Fu Youdi, recently promoted to Warden, prided himself on staying connected to the grassroots, frequently descending to the front lines to inspect working conditions.
Chen Wuren sat busy in the office, filling out reports and other administrative documents. His desk was piled high with papers, and the wall behind him displayed monthly production charts and labor distribution maps. At the very top hung a banner of large red characters: "Work Hard to Reform, Become a New Person."
The moment Fu Youdi appeared in the doorway, Chen Wuren sprang to his feet as if by reflex, back ramrod straight.
Fu Youdi regarded him coolly. "At ease. Why are you working today? It's your birthday. You're entitled to rest."
Chen Wuren's voice trembled slightly. "Reporting, Warden—I could rest today, but the monthly plan is due soon. I wanted to audit it one more time to avoid any errors."
Fu Youdi smirked. "Quite the eager worker."
Chen Wuren didn't know how to respond. He knew silence was safest.
Fu Youdi studied him coldly for a long moment. "How much longer do you need?"
"Half... half an hour should be enough..."
"I'll give you two hours. Finish everything on your desk and hand your duties over to your deputy. Then report to the Warden's office." The sound of leather shoes faded down the corridor.
Chen Wuren's mind went blank, his body trembling.
True, he was serving a sentence—but there were better and worse places to serve it. Here, he had climbed to the highest rung among prisoners, overseeing the entire affiliated factory.
Fu Youdi's order was tantamount to removing him from his position. Without asking, he knew that being summoned to the Warden's office meant "other arrangements."
What arrangements? Chen Wuren's imagination conjured countless terrifying possibilities. He reassured himself that he had been diligent these past years, never stepping out of line... Unless...
He dared not follow that thought further. He could only bow his head over his work, murmuring, "Blind Zhang predicted my fortune would turn at thirty-five. Turn, fortune, turn..."
Two hours later, he stood in the Warden's office. Fu Youdi said nothing, only ordering him to wait.
He faced the wall with lowered head, consumed by dread. Behind him, Fu Youdi paced. The man was smoking—cigarette after cigarette. Chen Wuren could tell the warden was nervous about something too.
From the distance came the sound of approaching footsteps—clomp, clomp, clomp—leather boots drawing nearer.
"For the Senate and the People!"
The footsteps halted. Chen Wuren could hear only Fu Youdi's tense, heavy breathing.
He started to turn his head for a glimpse of what was happening, but a hand immediately pressed his skull down, pinning him against the wall like a shrimp, unable to move.
"Let him go," came an unfamiliar voice. "Turn around."
Chen Wuren obeyed instantly. A pair of fine leather shoes entered his field of vision. His eye twitched—those were the special-issue shoes reserved for Senators.
Zhang Xiao studied him with a frown. "You're the former Director of the Lingao Ice Cream Factory—Chen Wuren?"
"Yes!" Chen Wuren answered reflexively. The words "Ice Cream Factory" struck him as both strange and achingly familiar, stirring a complicated tangle of emotions.
(End of Chapter)