Chapter 1613 - Strict House Rules

Lu Xuan's gloom now stemmed more from an irrepressible anxiety. Originally, he had merely felt annoyed at the Qian Shuiting faction's power-grabbing. But the Youth League affair had filled him with deep unease. The political factions within the Elder Council had fully matured—the Nerds' Party could stir clouds and summon rain, seizing any opportunity to make waves and whip up public opinion; the ruling faction responded with practiced ease, spinning schemes with the flick of a wrist. Even if he shouted himself hoarse in the Grand Library, it would accomplish nothing, because he was now a marginal figure whose words carried no weight.

"You're all just jackals from the same lair!" Lu Xuan fumed inwardly. He realized that during his five years of playing dumb, the ruling faction had built its own clique—and he had become thoroughly marginalized, a voice that no one heeded.

He was not one of those paranoid "soy sauce Elders" who obsessed over "not being purged." He had ambitions—grand ambitions, in fact.

His original choice to lie low in the Grand Library, playing the harmless little rabbit, had partly to do with the awkwardness of his former profession and partly with his long-term planning.

At the time of the landing, Lu Xuan quickly saw the awkwardness of his position: no seniority, no network—and in his view, the Elder Council's early phase would inevitably be dominated by engineers and technical specialists.

Though Lu Xuan had written only a few lines on his personal profile, in his previous life he had considered himself part of the "meat-eaters" class. Had it not been for an incident he couldn't clean up, he would never have joined those losers in slipping through into this uncertain time and space.

Precisely because of this "meat-eater's" self-awareness, he had made a judgment at the time of landing: this pack of losers would instinctively resent him. Not only would his accumulated knowledge and experience be useless, but revealing it might provoke early suspicion—or even the risk of being "quarantined."

To mitigate that risk, he decided to reinvent himself and start from zero: observe, learn, accumulate, and gradually integrate into this unfamiliar group with a humble posture. Only then would he choose his path to power. In his dozen-odd years in the bureaucracy, he had learned many lessons—among them, "don't rush to take sides" and "don't pick a faction too early."

But he also knew that staying neutral and non-committal meant being a fence-sitter, a reed bending with the wind. In the end, he might please no one and be ignored by all. Still, he figured it wouldn't matter much in this time and space. Even if he lay flat and collected his basic allowance, with only five hundred Elders and the whole world to divide, his slice of the pie wouldn't be small.

But Lu Xuan's ambition was to be one of those who sliced the pie—not someone who just ate it. With over a decade of experience in a provincial-level agency... those so-called Executive Committee bigwigs: Wen Desi was a petty office worker; Ma Qianzhu an engineer; Zhan Wuya a small business owner; Cheng Dong an accountant—fine, call him a CFO, still an accountant; Ran Yao a low-level cop; Si Kaide a foreign-trade salesman; He Ming a demobilized company commander whose promotion to deputy battalion commander had only been for the purpose of his discharge. None of them were worth worrying about. The only one who could be called a competitor was Qian Shuiting of the North American clique—but they were outsiders with inherent disadvantages.

It was precisely this calculation that led him to maintain his dormant state. First, to avoid potential suspicion; second, to avoid making mistakes. In the founding phase, the administrative apparatus was overwhelmed with daily affairs. The more you did, the more handles you left for others. Better to do nothing at all and keep his political slate clean.

During these years of dormancy, he had been quietly amassing the strength needed for an eventual rise to the top. He lacked the North American clique's seniority, knowledge, and resources; he also lacked Lin Boguang's gambler's courage and resolve. Even more did he disdain the way people like Cheng Yongxin and Shan Liang scurried up and down among the Elders, thinking themselves clever. He focused all his attention and energy on the refugees streaming into Lingao.

Taking control of Zhang Family Manor gave him a more comfortable economic base compared to other Elders. His plan was to recruit a number of natives as confidants, keeping them outside the naturalized-citizen system and under his direct control. At the same time, using the Elder "personal sponsorship" policy, he sponsored promising young candidates to attend school.

The students of Fragrant-Grass Academy would become the elite among naturalized citizens—the pillars of the Elder Council regime. Unlike other Elders who preferred to sponsor young children, Lu Xuan mainly sponsored students who would attend for two years and then transfer to vocational training. Their futures might be more limited, but they would graduate sooner and more quickly enter the middle ranks of various departments.

As for the Political Security Bureau, which many Elders wished to eliminate—in Lu Xuan's view, it was just a bunch of cosplayers' toy. Never mind whether they had any real experience in such work; the taboo against touching Elders alone left their so-called internal controls riddled with holes. So he wasn't worried about being discovered—and even if he were, so what? The Elder Council had never forbidden Elders from personally sponsoring students.

The sound of hoofbeats faded outside. The courtyard was so quiet you could hear a pin drop—only the rustle of wind through leaves. The steward, who had gone to see the carriage off, came trotting back from outside and called: "Bar the gate!"

The first of Lu Xuan's house rules was "Secure the doors." Day or night, the doors were never left open; they were unbarred only for entry and exit, and everyone going in or out had to register. His wife, concubines, and maidservants were not to go out without business, and outsiders who came on errands or deliveries had to leave as soon as their business was done. Even visits by relatives of his womenfolk and servants required prior application and approval.

Hearing the bar drop into place, he surveyed the courtyard—not a blade of grass or a stone out of place, the blue flagstones scrubbed so clean they showed not a speck of dust.

Lu Xuan found nothing to criticize. He stepped directly into the main hall. Inside was a set of solid hardwood furniture, vases and censers all properly arranged, calligraphy and paintings on the walls—all very refined, all purchased from the General Affairs Bureau warehouse as confiscated goods. Above the central scroll hung a banner in his own hand: "Harmony in the Home Brings All Things to Prosperity."

A maidservant had already brought a towel. Just as he was wiping his face, Liu Ziming's voice came from outside: "Chief, Miss Liu is here."

The "Miss Liu" in Liu Ziming's words was Liu Hui, Lu Xuan's female servant—and also Liu Ziming's sister. She was pretty enough. She hadn't come from the maid training program but had been picked by Lu Xuan from among the refugees. The big-breasted, brainless type. Lu Xuan had bought her partly to satisfy physical needs and partly for image purposes. To avoid anyone accusing him of being eccentric, he had registered Liu Hui with the General Affairs Office and sent her to the maid training program.

Liu Hui was thus marked—having passed through centralized training and being under General Affairs Office management, Lu Xuan was somewhat wary of her. In his view, the General Affairs Office was an even more terrifying entity than the Political Security Bureau. The Political Security Bureau couldn't reach inside an Elder's home, but the General Affairs Office planted staff right in Elders' beds.

"Show her in." The manor's rules were strict, modeled on a Ming-dynasty official's household. In the eyes of certain universal otakus, Lu Xuan's approach—clinging to feudal remnants—was something to be thoroughly discarded. But Lu Xuan believed that without strict hierarchy and rigorous rules, one couldn't cultivate authority. This was still the Ming dynasty of four hundred years ago; move too fast and you'd pull a muscle.

"Greetings to the master." Liu Hui entered and curtsied carefully. Though she harbored some resentment about her situation, after several lessons from Lu Xuan's house rules, she no longer dared have any ideas.

"What is it?"

"A notice came from the General Affairs Office, asking that Elders stay in their dormitories as much as possible these next few nights. They say..."

"Understood."

Lu Xuan hadn't slept in the dormitory for a long time. Zhang Family Manor lacked guards, but with its secure doors, high walls, and solid buildings, plus three adult male servants all licensed to carry Nanyang-style rifles, and his own personal handgun, security was assured.

Having delivered her message without receiving any clear response, Liu Hui didn't know whether she should withdraw or stand and await further orders. She stood there awkwardly, looking foolish.

Just then, a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl in a pale-colored jacket strolled in carrying a tea tray. This was Lu Xuan's wife—Zhang Lan. Her original name had been Zhang Sanniang; "Zhang Lan" was chosen by Lu Xuan.

Since their marriage, Lu Xuan had taught Zhang Lan to read and write personally. Had he not deliberately kept her in Ming attire and outside the naturalized-citizen system, Zhang Lan could easily have passed the highest-tier literacy examination by now.

Years of exposure had taught Zhang Lan that what Elder Lu valued most was "knowing one's place"—speak little, do much, obey orders: that was the foundation of security. After the deaths of her father, brother, and sister-in-law, Zhang Lan had grown even more careful, even secretly sending someone to the mainland to buy a copy of Lessons for Women. Her submission pleased Lu Xuan, who not only entrusted her with managing the household's finances but often had her tutor the "child servants" in the manor—the four or five children Lu Xuan was raising outside the system as native talent.

"Master." Everyone in Zhang Family Manor called Lu Xuan this—except for Liu Ziming, who was technically inside the system. Zhang Lan curtsied to Lu Xuan, then turned and set the tea on the table. Liu Hui hurried over and curtsied: "Sister..."

In truth, Liu Hui was several years older than Zhang Lan. But Zhang Lan was the legal wife, and Liu Hui had to defer. The Lu household rules were strict. Even Zhang Lan, the mistress, was disciplined by the master every week or so—let alone a mere "maid."