Chapter 1606 - Speaker Qian's Melancholy
The Political Security Bureau's poor performance this time would inevitably shake the Elders' trust in them. Raising the issue of blackmail files now would very likely gain traction and lead to a dedicated investigation.
Shan Liang thought this really was a good opportunity!
As for the blackmail files—he was certain they existed. What kind of Political Security Bureau wouldn't collect blackmail material? He was sure his own file was the fattest—they probably had recordings of his phone calls with Shan Huixiang.
Zhao Manxiong and his lackeys—just wait until you're shoveling manure at the Agricultural Committee. Shan Liang indulged in malicious satisfaction, imagining himself at the head of a group of revolutionary Elders storming into the Political Security Bureau's "black den." He'd kick open the door to Zhao Manxiong's office and demand the safe keys. That pot-bellied revisionist would hand them over with trembling hands and bow his head under the righteous indignation of the revolutionary Elders... He was practically intoxicated with the fantasy.
But Shan Liang was no longer the hot-blooded young man in the coffee shop. He suppressed his excitement and took a deep drag on his cigar. "And then?"
"If you like doing what you've always done, I can work to get you promoted. If you don't like your current field and want to transfer to another department, I can try to arrange that..."
Shan Liang laughed heartily. "Speaker Qian, are you teasing me? Administrative positions mean nothing to me. As long as I'm willing to be the vanguard, the general manager of Guangdong Telecom would be mine for the taking. And in the future, I'd definitely be on the Telecom Corporation's board. Let me put it this way—doesn't your committee have a chairmanship or two that needs filling?"
Qian Shuiting thought his appetite was quite considerable. He pondered for a moment. "As long as the new system can be established, the Nerds' Party will fully support your candidacy in the election."
"Then it's a deal." Shan Liang said, "I'll take my leave."
Shan Liang mounted his bicycle and pedaled away, whistling as he headed for his quarters. To avoid the hassle of a security escort, he was staying at the Executive Office's Second Guesthouse tonight—just a few minutes from the club.
As he rode, he noticed a carriage heading toward the club. So late—who would specifically come to visit Speaker Qian? Curious, Shan Liang steered his bicycle to the side of the road and hid in the shadow of a streetlamp.
On the carriage, guards were armed to the teeth. The window curtains were drawn. Shan Liang watched silently. The carriage stopped at the foot of the steps leading to the Flying Cloud Club's front veranda. By moonlight, he saw a young woman's silhouette step down from the carriage. The moonlight was hazy; he couldn't make out who it was. Just as he was about to leave in disappointment, the sea breeze carried a scent to his nose. The fragrance immediately stirred his memory:
"So it's you. Miss Cheng!"
Cheng Yongxin stepped gracefully down from the carriage. Qian Shuiting was already on the veranda with a welcoming smile. Seeing her lift the hem of her skirt as she was about to climb the steps, he hurried down and took her hand to guide her up.
"Thank you, Speaker Qian. Thank you for your invitation—I'm truly honored." She curtsied slightly.
"Not at all. Your presence brings glory to this humble place." Qian Shuiting smiled and returned the greeting with a kiss on her hand.
"Please, have a seat," he said.
The table on the terrace had been cleared and reset with fresh flowers. Since Cheng Yongxin didn't smoke, there were no cigars—only an ice bucket with a bottle of German sparkling wine nestled in the ice.
Qian Xuanhuang deftly wrapped the bottle in a napkin and filled two glasses.
Cheng Yongxin picked up her glass with a charming smile. "Champagne! What are we celebrating?"
Qian Shuiting smiled without answering. He lifted his glass, took a sip, and contemplated the bubbles rising steadily in the slender glass before saying: "Librarian Cheng, your reputation precedes you."
"You flatter me," she laughed. "It's I who have long admired your reputation." She took a sip as well.
Qian Shuiting shook his head. "Just an empty name." He set down his glass. "Librarian Cheng rarely leaves the library, yet you see through the Elder Council as if it were transparent. Surely you anticipated this invitation."
Cheng Yongxin nodded. "Speaker Qian, ever patient, are you waiting for this particular fish to take the bait?"
"Not at all, not at all—you jest." Qian Shuiting waved his hand. "Librarian Cheng is brilliant. I won't beat around the bush. This terrorist case in Lingao may seem accidental, but it's the inevitable result of long-standing problems in the old system..."
He then laid out his analysis and concerns about the current political system arising from this case—above all, worries about the powerful agencies. He hinted at the matter of the blackmail files.
Cheng Yongxin listened attentively. Though she maintained a demure smile, waves were rising in her heart. She had already heard about the Umbrella Case. But the information Qian Shuiting was revealing now was an unexpected gift.
This meant that Qian Shuiting—leader of the most powerful faction in the Elder Council—was extending an olive branch to her. In terms of political philosophy, Cheng Yongxin also advocated for "decentralization" and "oversight." In the Maid Case, she had worked tirelessly behind the scenes precisely to influence and control public opinion.
Yet the outcome of the Maid Case had been beyond her expectations. What she had confidently believed would be "Elder commits deranged murder" had turned into an inter-maid homicide, and most critically, the women she had worked hard to cultivate in the powerful agencies all insisted this was the truth. The truth she had hoped for had been buried.
Still, the Maid Case had allowed her, through cultivating Panpan, to significantly increase her influence over The Lingao Times.
Only with real power would anyone want to sit down and have tea with you. Cheng Yongxin savored the cold, fruity, slightly tart wine sliding down her throat. If she were merely an ordinary librarian, would Qian Shuiting have invited her to drink champagne?
"I fully agree with your views," Cheng Yongxin said with a radiant smile. "So, what would you like me to do?"
"Exert your influence with Panpan. That is my request."
"You're too kind. I'm just a librarian. I do have some influence with Panpan, but she's only the editor of The Lingao Times. The head of the Propaganda Department is Ding Ding..."
"As an Elder, isn't expressing one's own views the natural thing to do? You're too modest," Qian Shuiting said.
"Very well. I'll do my humble best—how can I refuse when it's Speaker Qian doing the asking?"
"You truly are a clever and wonderful woman. It's a waste for you to be at the Grand Library."
"Ha, I'll accept 'clever,' but 'wonderful' I must return to you, Speaker Qian," Cheng Yongxin laughed. "I quite like the library—it's quiet, a good place to study and think in peace. It's just too much administrative work. Worldly affairs weigh me down."
Cheng Yongxin left the Flying Cloud Society feeling somewhat tipsy. Qian Shuiting walked her to the carriage and watched until she was out of sight before returning inside.
The night was deep. Qian Shuiting returned once more to the terrace, lit a fresh cigar, and smoked in silence. He knew very well that after the Umbrella Case, the mainland campaign would soon be put on the agenda.
This was not just an inevitable rebound from the case itself. For the Elder Council, launching an expansionist war to enlarge the pie and redirect internal conflicts was the best solution.
From a broad perspective, seizing Guangdong posed no difficulty for the current Elder Council regime. The question was how to "govern" it. Qian Shuiting knew that many Elders had a vertical governing philosophy: power should extend to the grassroots level, maximizing control and mobilization capacity. The Executive Committee's governing approach followed roughly the same line—their current practices in Hainan also adhered to this thinking.
But in his view, this obsession with controlling the grassroots was beyond the Elder Council's capacity. Compared to Qiongzhou Prefecture's population of only a few hundred thousand, Guangdong was vastly larger, with nearly ten million people. No matter how hard Fragrant-Grass Academy or the Fubo Army worked, they could not provide enough grassroots cadres to implement such a system. Pursuing this would squander hard-won human and material resources.
He didn't oppose the idea of controlling the grassroots—but he felt there was no need to rush. The Elder Council's most pressing needs were resources and population. Maintaining the old system could provide these, perhaps somewhat less efficiently, but with far less investment. They could absorb things gradually.
If they pressed too hard for "regime down to the village" and ended up with a "half-cooked meal"—all input and no output—the consequences for the Elder Council, now a vast enterprise, would be unthinkable.
But the Executive Committee's insistence on this point made him deeply uneasy. He knew that ordinary Elders were heavily influenced by the Executive Committee's political weight and governing philosophy. His opposition would probably have little effect.
Guangdong was not the main concern, after all—it was only one province. But looking at the nation as a whole, at the entire world? The Executive Committee's ever-expanding power and voice would eventually drown out all others, posing an enormous threat to the Elder Council and the Transmigration Enterprise.
If they could not further reduce the Executive Committee's power and influence, once they entered Guangdong, large numbers of grassroots Elders would have vast opportunities for advancement—and their acceptance of the Executive Committee's line would only deepen. The Nerds' Party's vision of "establishing a decentralized, balanced, fluid, and transparent system within the collective" would gradually lose its market. In essence, people resented all elites and always hoped to strip and limit their power—but once they themselves became elites, oversight, transparency, and checks and balances suddenly became far less interesting.
"We must stop them!" Qian Shuiting worried for the future of the Elder Council. Time was too short. Discrediting the Political Security Bureau and the Executive Committee's monstrous creation—the Arbitration Tribunal—was only the first step. Only by destroying the Executive Committee's prestige in the Elders' hearts could they rebuild trust in the Elder Council itself. Gradually bring the major powers under the Elder Council's purview, and ultimately abolish the Executive Committee to establish a modern cabinet system with separation of powers—that was the proper path for the Elder Council.