Chapter 1435 - Putting into Action
"Since that's the case, let's proceed as planned. I will continue coordinating with the Executive Committee and the Council of Elders on your behalf. You should get started immediately." Jiang Shan rose and shook the other man's hand firmly.
"Rest assured. Both the Zheng family and Liu Xiang are fish in a drying pond. Just wait for my good news."
The speaker wore a standard "cadre suit" but had long hair tied in a ponytail at the back of his head—none other than Lin Baiguang, current Station Chief of the Guangzhou Station, who had secretly returned to Lingao from Guangzhou just days ago.
His return concerned a major matter for the Council of Elders: the final resolution of the Liu Xiang group.
Since fleeing to the Chaoshan area, the Liu Xiang group had adopted a strategy of lying low to counter the Council of Elders' naval expansion in Fujian-Guangdong waters. With the Zheng Zhilong group having suffered a devastating blow and control over Tainan deepening, the Council's Navy had effectively mastered command of the sea along the entire Fujian-Guangdong coast.
The remnants of the Zheng group were besieged between Jinmen and Xiamen, their trade ships barely able to put to sea. The Liu Xiang group, hiding in Chaoshan, faced the same predicament. They could neither plunder nor trade. A vast force sat idle, consuming resources. Unlike the Zheng family—which possessed extensive estates on shore and government backing—Liu Xiang's group had many men and ships, its strength undiminished, but this massive power had become a crushing economic burden.
Though stationed in Guangzhou, Lin Baiguang's focus had long since shifted to the maritime powers of the Guangdong-Fujian region. He understood Liu Xiang's situation intimately. His return to Lingao was to propose his own plan for the "final solution" of the Liu Xiang problem.
The plan carried certain risks, but the rewards were substantial. Lin Baiguang estimated the success rate at over ninety percent. It had already passed preliminary approval by the Executive Committee.
After seeing off Lin Baiguang, the secretary announced that Wang Ding had arrived.
"Show him in."
Wang Ding reported in person on the materials gathered from the private investigation into Cheng Yongxin. Generally speaking, there wasn't much juice. Cheng Yongxin was a girl from Taiwan—Jiang Shan had known this for some time. Though she avoided discussing the matter and her Mandarin carried almost no Taiwanese accent, occasionally her grammar, word choice, and pronunciation of certain common terms betrayed her origins.
She had studied Ancient Chinese Literature at a university in China, defending her thesis before D-Day and obtaining a Master of Arts degree. During her studies, she had moonlighted as a screenwriter, co-writing some not-very-famous television drama scripts—mainly Qing Dynasty braid dramas and family emotional dramas.
As for why she had transmigrated, according to her own account, the story went like this:
Before D-Day, she was just a naive literature student harboring dreams of literary greatness. When she discovered that critical interpretation of ancient texts had absolutely nothing to do with the American dramas she loved, Cheng Yongxin began hanging around the television station with a senior she'd met in an elective course, taking on occasional writing jobs from production crews.
Before graduation, the senior naturally became her boyfriend, and she became assistant to a well-known screenwriter. Studies, work, and love had all proceeded smoothly. Considering her age after completing her master's—and figuring early marriage would settle things—the wedding was put on the agenda.
Until she discovered that the senior had copied script outlines from her hard drive to give to the famous screenwriter who had run out of ideas, and had requested a likable supporting role for a third-tier actress he was secretly seeing on the side.
She remained calm but simplified all the wedding plans, lulling the senior into believing he could enjoy the best of both worlds. Then, on the day of the banquet—before friends, relatives, colleagues, and bosses from both sides, amid the emcee's blessings—she turned around and sprayed champagne all over the groom, adding a slap to the stunned man's face for good measure.
"Someone tell Director Zhu to hurry up and take his little lover to collect the adulterer! I, Cheng Yongxin, don't care for this petty thief who only knows how to plagiarize other people's work!"
After such a scene—turning in-laws into enemies—Cheng Yongxin naturally felt relieved, but she also had to lie low to escape the fallout. After a backpacking trip to relax and gather material, she finally arrived in Lingao in western Hainan—a place even seasoned backpackers wouldn't normally bother with.
Of course, she wouldn't have chosen Lingao as her final destination had she not seen Wen Desi's post. But unlike other enthusiastic transmigrators, right up until D-Day she—like Guo Yi and others who had stumbled in by accident—believed this was actually a survival cult.
Rather than truly believing the other side of the wormhole was the Ming Dynasty, Cheng Yongxin was more interested in how Wen Desi and the others would justify themselves after the D-Day scam went bankrupt—a kind of occupational disease, an instinctive curiosity about dramatic people and situations.
"Where did this material come from? How credible is it?" Jiang Shan found himself somewhat incredulous after listening to Wang Ding's report.
"It's based on her own narration. She has spoken about her past experiences more than once to people around her. The versions differ slightly, but the gist is roughly the same."
"I think this experience is too dramatic."
"Based on analysis of collected background materials, combined with her experience as a screenwriter, the possibility that she dramatized her own history cannot be ruled out." Wang Ding smiled. "It's human nature for people to beautify and gloss over when recounting their own experiences.
"Removing the excessively dramatic plot points, I believe her actual life before D-Day was probably: went to university—participated in TV drama screenwriting—dated a boyfriend and got cheated on. The motivation for participating in the transmigration should also be genuine."
"Tell me about her work and life in the Great Library."
"Generally speaking, not much material. She leads a largely reclusive existence. Her primary work involves translating and polishing ancient Chinese and ancient vernacular texts."
Specifically: on one hand, translating various Ming Dynasty documents and archives into modern Chinese for reference by different departments; on the other, "Ming-ifying" various propaganda materials. The Propaganda Department and the Office of Truth produced propaganda constantly, and most required polishing and translation into Classical Chinese or ancient vernacular.
These were routine tasks of the Great Library—endless for anyone willing to do them. Cheng Yongxin completed them remarkably well, with both quality and quantity guaranteed. Yu Eshui was quite affirmative about her work.
As for her private life, even her colleagues at the Great Library knew little. Cheng Yongxin's daily routine was largely point-to-point; when busy, she slept in the library dormitory. Occasionally she would visit the Farm Café or Lingao Point Park for leisure—attending gatherings held by the Feiyun Club and several assemblies organized by the Women's Federation.
Beyond these gatherings, she maintained only a small number of private interactions. She associated more with female Elders, rarely with males, and those connections were almost entirely work-related. Many Elders in industrial and military sectors didn't know her at all.
Further investigation into these activities revealed no close associations with any specific group. Her relationships were all casual acquaintances. She was quite active at gatherings but rarely revealed ideological tendencies. She never commented on the Council of Elders' policies or on other Elders, apparently maintaining an attitude of indifference toward politics.
"...Recently she submitted an application to the General Affairs Office to purchase a maidservant. The application has been approved, but she hasn't yet gone to select one."
Apart from that, nothing worth mentioning.
From this, Cheng Yongxin appeared to have nothing special about her—living a semi-reclusive life. For the time being, no evidence suggested she held any designs on the Council of Elders' political circles.
"Let's leave it at this for now. Thank you for your hard work."
"It's a pity we don't have an intelligence network and corresponding relationships in Lingao," Wang Ding said. "Should we go through the Political Security Bureau—"
Over the past half year, Wang Ding and Wu Mu had established a solid "business cooperation" relationship.
"No—we can't let them know about this. Destroy all notes you made during the investigation." Jiang Shan exhaled. "That guy Zhao Manxiong—who knows how much black material on Elders he's compiled in secret. Now he wants to use the purge of overseas stations stemming from the Hao Yuan case to extend his reach into their security departments."
"All right."
Cheng Yongxin left work relatively early that day, departing the library at five o'clock. After returning to the dormitory, she showered first, dabbed on a little jasmine perfume produced by Zichengji, and then boarded the commuter train.
She bought a ticket to the Nanhai Demonstration Farm. After alighting at the station, she hailed a yellow rickshaw taxi affiliated with the Tiandihui.
"To the Farm Café," she instructed the puller.
The rickshaw soon arrived at the café entrance. She stepped out, and the Spanish doorman Sancho welcomed her with a beaming face.
"Welcome, Madam."
"Thank you." Cheng Yongxin showed her card. "I reserved a private room."
"Yes, please go in." Sancho hurried a few steps forward to open the door for her.
It was still early—5:30, before the official end of the workday for most Elders—and the café's first floor was nearly empty. She had reserved a small private room on the second floor.
"Bring me coconut juice. Is the dinner I ordered ready?" She had requested the limited-edition vanilla roasted lamb chop set meal—only ten servings a day, reputedly excellent.
"Ready. When shall we serve it?"
"Wait for my word."
"Yes, Chief."
Cheng Yongxin checked her Swiss watch—still five minutes until the agreed time. She picked up the young coconut with its inserted straw and sipped, calculating how to conduct the upcoming conversation.
A few days earlier, on official business regarding pamphlet publication, she had visited the Lingao Times office—also the headquarters of the Propaganda Department—to coordinate work. By chance, she had witnessed a quarrel between Dingding and his wife in the office.
It was precisely that dispute which had made her finally resolve to put into action the plan she had been calculating for years.