After understanding the situation, Wu Zhen smiled and said, “Master Xiao, I didn’t expect you to have such wide connections. Secretary Jia suddenly coming down for an inspection is really rare.”
Deep down, I looked down on Wu Zhen. His current behavior was clearly that of a fence-sitter, which disgusted me.
I leaned in and whispered, “The child in Ma Yan’s belly is yours, right? Didn’t expect your hit rate to be so high.”
As soon as I finished speaking, I prepared to leave.
Wu Zhen chased after me, shouting, “Master, how did you figure it out… Master. You must keep this a secret for me. Master.”
When I got home, Feng Shiqiao and Feng Wushuang were sitting in the living room, but my mother still hadn’t come out. Feng Wushuang saw me and called out, “Cousin, you’re back?”
Yi Miao asked, “Back so soon? There was quite a show just now. The town mayor was dismissed on the spot.”
I had no thoughts about Zhe Dabiao’s dismissal. Seeing Feng Wushuang’s sudden appearance, I simply nodded and said, “I’ll go check.” My mother’s room was silent. I knocked and called out twice. She didn’t let my father in but allowed me to enter, her eyes brimming with tears.
I told her, “I’m not good with big speeches. Now that they’ve come back, it means they had their reasons back then. Mom, you’ve left them waiting outside for so long—just go out and see them.”
My mother sighed, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, straightened her clothes, and stood up. She walked out, and Feng Shiqiao stepped forward, calling, “Sister. I came to see you.” My mother forced a smile and said, “Since you’re here, stay for dinner. Husband, get the meal ready.”
Secretary Jia, accompanied by the village head and the village committee director, inspected the village’s environmental hygiene and moral development, offering eight suggestions and several reflections. He said that rural areas were the foundation of the nation and farmers its backbone. Over the years, the countryside had seen progress, but there were still shortcomings. He urged everyone to work harder for a better life.
Secretary Jia’s speech drew applause and enthusiastic praise. The village party secretary and the committee director were so moved they shed tears, expressing how the Party and government had never forgotten rural areas. They boasted about the village’s prosperity, free of bullies and bad elements.
As they spoke, Granny Eight poured the stinky water from her freshly scrubbed chamber pot outside and slammed the door shut.
Secretary Jia continued, “I know this town was once a revolutionary base and many joined the anti-Japanese resistance. The tradition is strong, and the nation will never forget.”
Hearing this, the village party secretary immediately brought up the unfinished road at the village entrance, hoping for city funding. Secretary Jia chuckled and said, “Of course. Good roads lead to prosperity.” He then instructed county and town officials to draft a plan for the road’s construction.
After the inspection, it was time for lunch. Secretary Jia smiled, “Let’s eat with Boss Feng. He’s investing in our city, and since I happened to be inspecting, we’ll dine together.”
He emphasized frugality, saying he disliked extravagance, as public funds were hard-earned money.
Back in the courtyard, Secretary Jia spoke at length with Feng Shiqiao. Feng Wushuang tried to help cook but struggled with the rural stove, soon covering her forehead in dust.
I told her to get out of the way.
Lian Xiaoyao, however, was skilled and efficient in the kitchen. She asked me, “What kind of official is Secretary Jia? Sitting in the yard with so many people outside.”
I wasn’t sure either. Logically, Secretary Jia should be swamped with work—why inspect now? Yi Miao guessed he was about to retire, with little real power left, hence accompanying Feng Shiqiao for leisure.
Just then, my phone rang. The village party secretary called me outside. Turns out, Secretary Jia and his entourage couldn’t dine in town, so they wanted to set up tables in the yard—just needed more food.
I laughed, “You already knew. Why ask me?” The village party secretary grinned, “I get it. The Zhe family’s restaurant in town is delivering food. Just bring it to the kitchen quietly, and we’ll serve it later.”
Sure enough, a van was parked at the roadside.
I’d heard a joke before: when higher-ups inspect, they eat at a local’s home. Officials pre-order restaurant dishes; once the leader enters, the food arrives within minutes, just needing reheating.
The leader, thinking they’re experiencing grassroots life, is amazed at how well the “common folk” eat—even drinking top-tier liquor like Wuliangye and Moutai from glass jars.
After several trips, I moved all the food inside, borrowed stools from neighbors, and set up three tables. Secretary Jia cheerfully apologized for the “simple meal.”
Post-meal, Secretary Jia prepared to leave, urging everyone to work for farmers’ welfare—though no one knew how much local produce filled his car.
Before leaving, he and Feng Shiqiao called me in. Secretary Jia asked, “Where do you work now?”
“In Jiangcheng,” I replied.
“Good,” he said.
Feng Shiqiao added, “Secretary Jia has hit a snag. He’s heard of your grandfather Long Youshui and wonders if you can advise him.”
Secretary Jia nodded, “Xiao Xiao, if you can help, the reward won’t be small.”
I pondered. If Secretary Jia’s nearing retirement but facing issues, fixing them could secure his future. “What’s the problem?” I asked.
“Mayor Wu and I have never gotten along. Recently, he hired a Taoist who dug up some dirt on me. It’s been troubling me.”
His tone was calm, unreadable, like giving a report.
“A Taoist?” I echoed.
Feng Shiqiao tactfully exited.
Once alone, Secretary Jia elaborated, “Nothing major. Just… an ‘extra-friendship’ with a young teacher at the city’s normal school. Mayor Wu had it recorded. The Taoist behind it is elusive.”
I was stunned. “Extra-friendship” meant an affair with a student—a scandal that could be deadly politically. Why seek me instead of a private investigator?
Confused, I shook my head. “How can I help?”
Secretary Jia rolled up his sleeve, revealing a black line on his arm. I thought, *A parasite?*
“You should see a doctor,” I said.
“This is something only you can handle,” he insisted calmly. “Come see me in the city on the third day of the New Year.” His tone brooked no refusal.
“Must I?” I asked.
“Yes.”
My mind raced. A mysterious Taoist, blackmail, Secretary Jia’s scandal—what did it have to do with me? Was this another scheme? If Feng Wushuang was truly my cousin and Feng Shiqiao my uncle, they shouldn’t harm me.
Finally, I agreed.
Secretary Jia handed me a new phone with a single contact. “Call this number when you come.”
I pocketed it. He wished my family a happy New Year.
*I wish your family happiness too*, I thought sarcastically.
Outside, Feng Shiqiao gave me a knowing smile before bidding Secretary Jia farewell. The Audi with license plate “No. 1” drove off, leaving tearful officials behind.
The village party secretary sidled up, offering a cigarette. “What did Secretary Jia say to you?”
I deadpanned, “He asked if there’s corruption or local bullies in our village.”
The secretary paled. After forty years in office, his “study trips” to Jinggangshan and escapades with Jiangxi girls were village jokes. If Secretary Jia heard…
He slunk away silently.
My father sighed, “They ate so much. Our New Year pork won’t last. I’ll buy more in town.”
“I’ll go,” I said, borrowing a neighbor’s motorcycle.
The neighbor had recently upgraded his speakers, blasting *Old Boy*—a melancholic song about lost love and unaffordable bride prices. The DJ remix turned the poignant tune absurdly comical.
Yet, listening to it, grit stung my eyes.
Maybe because I, too, was once young.
*”Where is the ordinary future? Dreams seem so far… Should I give up?”*
Heh. What dreams?
Heh. When did I ever have dreams?
Riding through the market, I passed the police station. Secretary Jia’s driver and Chong Lao Si walked out, chatting like old acquaintances.
The bike was too fast to catch their words.
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