Chapter 1442 - Taking Trouble

Her meeting with Salina had exceeded all expectations. Getting an appointment with the woman had required considerable effort—Salina enjoyed great fame among the Council of Elders yet maintained remarkably low visibility. Most of her working hours were spent training personnel at the bases of powerful departments, or drafting regulations, ordinances, and law enforcement procedures for various agencies.

Cheng Yongxin hadn't known Salina, hadn't even known where she usually operated. But she had already secured Panpan's "friendship"—both Panpan and Salina were American women, which meant they interacted frequently. Through Panpan's introduction, meeting Salina had been a simple matter.

Salina's Mandarin was fluent now, but Cheng Yongxin chose to chat with her in polished American English. She intuited that regardless of how well Salina or Panpan spoke Chinese, they would always feel a natural intimacy with their mother tongue—it was easier to express one's thoughts directly. Many people spoke a foreign language fluently, but very few could actually think in one.

Salina rarely encountered anyone willing to speak English with her casually. Even Panpan wouldn't converse in English in public—too easily mistaken for conspiratorial whispering.

Cheng Yongxin had quickly recognized that in this political group dominated by ethnic Chinese males—where most members harbored varying degrees of Darwinistic socialism and chauvinistic tendencies, buying and driving slaves without hesitation—racial and gender discrimination were displayed without pretense.

Though Salina now held a high position, occupied a seat as an "Elder," and was considered heavily utilized in her work, she remained an eternal outsider.

If Panpan could be considered "one of us" due to her "graft" Dingding, the relationship between Salina and fellow outsider Xue Ziliang made integration all but impossible. Xue Ziliang might be ethnically Chinese, but he was a thoroughgoing banana.

Salina had no power to resist this discrimination. Cheng Yongxin believed that winning her over required demonstrating recognition of her cultural background first—not mere friendliness or polite respect.

Her small strategy had succeeded brilliantly. Salina had felt like an old friend at first meeting, and their friendship developed quickly. Xue Ziliang had been traveling constantly this past year, often away for months at a stretch—though he certainly made up for lost time whenever he returned, working through three or four rounds a night plus another in the morning, leaving the neighbors red-eyed and swollen-lidded. Still, such extended absences made her life lonely. The bond between the two women had grown close in no time.

Conversely, Cheng Yongxin leveraged this to strengthen the ties between Salina and Panpan as well. She carefully cultivated this newborn sisterhood, subtly spreading dissatisfaction with the Council's "male chauvinism" and "dictatorial totalitarian tendencies." She believed her two new girlfriends harbored similar thoughts—she need only act as the catalyst.

Today's meeting felt like divine blessing. First, she had encountered Su Wan and learned that this female forensic doctor working within the powerful institutions shared similar dissatisfaction with the Council. In other words, she might be recruited as a "fellow traveler," even an ally. Second, as a forensic doctor, Su Wan possessed firsthand information on the Lin Xiaoya murder case—the case that had so incensed Panpan. Judging from Dingding's eagerness to suppress the story, something was certainly rotten. Whatever official version emerged would likely be far from truth.

And the truth lay in the hands of Forensic Doctor Su—forensics made the dead speak. If Cheng Yongxin could win her over, she would control the primary evidence. Then she could deploy that "truth" to maximum advantage as circumstances evolved.

The only downside was that raw garlic and onion smell clinging to Dr. Su—rather difficult to endure—and the constant disinfectant odor that triggered unpleasant associations. Even on the way home, she still imagined she could smell it.

Back in her dormitory, Cheng Yongxin hurried through a shower and change of clothes, then sprayed perfume before feeling human again.

Unpleasantness aside, the contact had yielded valuable returns. Out of prudence, she hadn't asked anything about the Lin Xiaoya case—no point arousing suspicion. But from Su Wan's sudden emotional outburst and subsequent conversation, she sensed there was more to the story.

I must win her over quickly, get her to volunteer the inside information—there are no secrets between women. Even if she's irritating, I have to do it. After all, isn't female solidarity my source of power?

Sun Shangxiang made dinner that evening—whatever complaints Cheng Yongxin might have about the Maid School, the training results were undeniable. Not only was the food a hundred times better than her own cooking, the variety was far richer too.

They ate together. Sharing a table with her master had terrified Sun Shangxiang at first—she hadn't dared pick up food at all. Only after several days of this, and hearing from other maids that the same custom prevailed in other Elders' homes, did she slowly adapt.

They chatted casually over the meal, especially about reading. Cheng Yongxin deliberately guided her toward certain books, telling her to come ask questions if she didn't understand. Beyond this "tutoring," she also inquired about the Maid School—particularly Sun Shangxiang's classmates and what they were thinking.

"What do you normally do at home?" Cheng Yongxin asked between bites.

Sun Shangxiang's chopsticks froze. "Buying groceries... cleaning... cooking... and reading, as you instructed..."

"You don't need to stay home doing housework all the time. I don't have that much for you to do." Cheng Yongxin said. "Move around more with maids from other Elders' households. Make friends. And stay in touch with your classmates from the Maid School—don't forget them."

"Yes—" Sun Shangxiang didn't understand what her master meant, but dared not ask. She agreed vaguely first.

"Be generous when spending outside. Don't be too stingy." Cheng Yongxin produced a newly issued "Elder Supplementary Card" from Delong Bank. The card functioned like a subsidiary membership card for the Farm—derived from the Elder's main card, specifically for maids' daily expenses. Essentially a debit card, it could be used directly at all shops in Lingao, with a certain amount of cash withdrawable from Delong counters, the limit set by the Elder.

"When you maids have free time, share a meal together, have tea or something. If you need cash, withdraw it from the account. You represent me now—maintain appearances."

Sun Shangxiang returned to her new room to organize while Cheng Yongxin carried a glass of iced black tea into the study.

So Zheng Zhilong finally broke... he lasted long enough.

She retrieved the black booklet recently produced by the Office of Truth—this was her "translation" assignment: polishing modern Chinese articles in simplified horizontal layout into traditional vertical vernacular ancient prose that scholars could copy directly. If everything went smoothly, a certain paragraph drafted at this desk would emerge from storytellers' mouths in the capital half a month hence.

Judging from the contents, the Council's next target appeared to be Guangdong. Cheng Yongxin had noticed that the proportion of Guangzhou officials in her recent materials showed a significant upward trend. Given the Executive Committee's consistent pattern, this signaled an imminent move on Guangdong.

She set down the material and removed the necklace from her neck. Hanging from it was an exquisite Han jade cicada pendant—purchased at a spoils auction. With her limited expertise, she estimated the piece would fetch at least tens of thousands of RMB in the other time-space. On the back of the pendant hung a small copper key.

She detached the key, unlocked the wooden bookcase door, and revealed an iron safe manufactured in Lingao. She opened the safe, withdrew a locally made red-covered notebook, and began to write.

Carefully, she recorded what she considered valuable material from today's meetings with Salina and Su Wan.

Since developing screenwriting ambitions, Cheng Yongxin had maintained a habit of accumulating material. Before D-Day, she had quietly documented what she saw and heard in the training camp. In fact, this safe still contained her records of the transmigrators' daily activities from that period, along with the screenplay outline for Space-Time Pioneers (Tentative) that she had drafted.

Since she no longer intended to muddle along contentedly in the Great Library, she had begun consciously recording material that "might prove useful." Quite a collection had already accumulated in her red notebook.

Many items weren't secrets—but with time, they became old affairs the parties involved would rather forget. They would hope such things faded from memory. When that day came, these non-secrets would carry considerable weight.

Locking the safe, she turned to her translation work. She became completely absorbed, only noticing the clock had passed midnight when she finished. Capping her fountain pen, Cheng Yongxin rose to brew black tea in the kitchen—only to find Sun Shangxiang, who should have long been asleep, quietly cleaning.

"Shangxiang? Why aren't you in bed?"

The girl sprang upright immediately, offering a textbook-perfect slight bow.

"Chief, you were still working. I was afraid you might want a late-night snack, so I kept the tea warm."

Cheng Yongxin noticed Sun Shangxiang's expression looked slightly strained—obviously fighting to suppress a yawn.

"Then pour me a cup of tea. By the way, call the Lingao Times tomorrow morning and make a lunch appointment with Chief Panpan for me."

"Yes, Chief."

Cheng Yongxin studied the life secretary before her and suddenly sighed heavily. Whatever her complaints about the Qing Dynasty, she still wished there had been a few more Empress Dowager Xiaozhuangs in history.