Chapter 2836 Wei Aiwen and Wang Tao

By the time Wei Aiwen returned from He Ming's office, Wang Tao had already spent over an hour chatting animatedly with Wei Aiwen's female orderly in the lounge.

Catching sight of Wei Aiwen's sour expression, the orderly immediately assumed the posture of someone diligently absorbed in paperwork.

"Enough, enough—stop pretending. Go fetch two bottles of kvass. Iced!"

"None for me, thanks. I've already had several."

Wei Aiwen ignored him. He dropped heavily into the large high-backed chair across from Wang Tao, pulled a cigar from the box on the desk, and lit it for himself.

The orderly brought the chilled kvass. Wei Aiwen waved her away impatiently, then drained two bottles in quick succession—but still couldn't quench the fire burning in his chest.

"Bottom!"

"What?!" Wang Tao didn't understand this new term.

"Nothing!"

In Wei Aiwen's view, He Ming was a capable commander. Whether in combat operations, military training, or staff work, there was little to criticize—at least by his estimation. But as Minister of Defense—or rather, that ridiculous new title, "Armed Forces Minister"—He Ming was utterly unqualified. Before the Senate and Council of State, he always wore that expression of "guaranteed to complete the mission" even as he let himself be trampled underfoot.

"Ma Qianzhu's good boy." This nickname circulated among the Soy Sauce Crowd, referring to the cadres Ma Qianzhu had promoted and entrusted with important responsibilities during his years at the Planning Commission, General Staff, and Council of State. Most of them were cadres with a strong "sense of the big picture"—the type who rarely clashed openly over departmental interests. In other words, as the Soy Sauce Crowd saw it, these cadres simply followed Ma's lead. They were the Ma faction. Under normal circumstances, Wei Aiwen dismissed such gossip as idle talk. But this time, he was growing restless. He'd learned at drinking parties that Dingding had been rampaging around lately, promoting his strategy everywhere. The livelihood, medical, education, and other sectors were all scrambling to curry favor. When Dingding's claws finally reached into the military, his Mainland Cultural Infiltration Strategy would encompass all departments' northern operations. What pained Wei Aiwen even more was He Ming's attitude toward all this: "Proceed from the big picture, give strong support." There was nothing technically wrong with saying that. But the work He Ming had assigned to Wei Aiwen was precisely that—leaving him feeling like a eunuch more worried about the empire than the emperor himself.

"I'm caught between enemies on both sides now." Wei Aiwen rose, closed the door, and began pouring out his grievances to Wang Tao. "We used to stay out of each other's way—even helped each other out plenty. But this time, Dingding has truly overstepped!" The two men had forged a deep bond during the earliest "Recall Past Bitterness" propaganda campaigns. Their friendship transcended departmental interests.

"Oh, really? How come I haven't heard about this?" Wang Tao asked in surprise. He was one of the backbone members of the arts propaganda sector. For Dingding's Mainland Cultural Infiltration Strategy, he served as both an important participant and formulator. To Wang Tao's knowledge, there was genuinely no plan to meddle in internal military propaganda. So he was truly puzzled by Wei Aiwen's complaint. Could Dingding have some secret agenda he was keeping under wraps?

"I really treat you like a true brother—you're not treating me like some distant cousin, are you?" Wei Aiwen sat down beside Wang Tao, affectionately draping an arm around his neck, cigar nearly poking his face. "Your Director Ding hasn't directly conducted propaganda within the military—I'll grant you that. But his quarantine camp outreach points, plus that barefoot doctor training—how is that not poaching in military camps?!"

Watching Wei Aiwen's anguished expression as he denounced Dingding's outrages, Wang Tao was puzzled. How had this touched such a nerve? South Sea Thunder and The Ordeal had been performed for the troops for years without Wei Aiwen objecting.

"What are you going on about? Since when did quarantine camps fall under military jurisdiction?"

"Besides refugees, which group is most numerous in quarantine camps?"

Wang Tao paused. "Troops?" The realization struck him. Apart from Hainan itself, in terms of overseas deployment, quarantine camps were mostly managed by the military. Naturally, the majority of workers there were soldiers.

"So what?"

Wei Aiwen apparently saw Wang Tao's confusion and pressed on, waving his cigar for emphasis. "The key isn't the form—it's the content. Your next new play is The Story of Pine Fort. See? Isn't this deliberately causing me trouble? The moment the northern war eased up, ideological work among the troops immediately showed signs of slackening. Do you have any idea how many discharge applications I've approved this month?" Wei Aiwen rattled off his complaints like a machine gun, but Wang Tao's expression grew increasingly awkward. "You don't know about The Story of Pine Fort, do you? It's the earliest military romance drama. Women, family—wonderful! Once that's performed, another pile of discharge applications will land on my desk. Tell me that isn't picking a fight."

Wang Tao understood now. Thinking it over, this really wasn't such a significant matter. Dingding had absolutely no intention of interfering with military political propaganda. The content choices might be somewhat troublesome, but that trouble couldn't be solved simply by changing the subject matter. The woman problem was an unavoidable necessity—a contradiction that couldn't be evaded. The more it was evaded, the more likely problems would arise. Soldiers weren't fools. Instinctive and physiological needs couldn't be glossed over with a few words and a play.

"This is nothing. If you think it's inappropriate, we can adjust the subject matter accordingly. Besides, with troops stationed abroad and fighting, they need some light, relaxing content too. A bowstring strung too tight will snap."

Wang Tao set his teacup on the coffee table, pulled a delicate enamel box from his pocket, opened it, pinched out a bit of snuff, and inhaled it at his nose. Then he asked: "You mentioned 'internal troubles and external threats' earlier. It's probably not just this one issue, right?"

Wei Aiwen took a sip of tea and hesitated. Clearly the other trouble was more thorny than Dingding's. After finishing his tea, he rose and properly secured the office door. In truth, it was already closed, with his orderly stationed outside—there was no real risk of being overheard. The gesture simply expressed how delicate this matter was. Wei Aiwen drew a letter from his briefcase and handed it to Wang Tao. "Keep this quiet for now."

Wang Tao accepted the letter. Opening it with curiosity and puzzlement, he burst out laughing after reading a few lines. "Not a bad education level. Really well-written. Just missing one line about 'The Senate aren't divine emperors either.'"

"This 'Post-Ordeal Impressions' was submitted through the Ten-Man Team system," Wei Aiwen said. "Credit to them for transcribing it so completely."

Wang Tao smiled and asked: "Nervous?"

"Preemptive worry." Wei Aiwen smiled back. "The thing itself is nothing. People think—that's normal. Nothing unusual about it. We don't live in a vacuum. The plays we perform are grounded in reality, after all."

"What are you planning to do about it?"

"Nothing. Originally the person was just reflecting a bit. If you get nervous, you'll actually tip them off that there's plenty to dig into here." Wei Aiwen paused. "Of course, I'll have to write a memo to Queen Du, asking her to 'pay more attention.' Whether she listens is beyond my control. The rest can be left for the bigwigs at Council of State to worry about."

Seeing it was nearly mealtime, Wei Aiwen had the orderly bring two lunches. The two ate in the office. Wei Aiwen's brow finally relaxed somewhat. He told Wang Tao about his just-concluded visit to He Ming.

Wang Tao picked up a kvass bottle and clinked it against Wei Aiwen's, then laughed and cursed: "You say Old He doesn't understand politics. I think your Political Department could use a renaming too."

Wei Aiwen froze. Though the General Staff Political Department was only a "department" in name, its actual power far exceeded that designation. All political work for Fubo Army personnel fell under his jurisdiction. Most crucially, he'd built it with his own hands. If anyone else had made this joke, he'd have taken offense. But Wang Tao was an exception—after all, they'd been partners during those early founding days. Though Wang Tao had later moved to Cultural Propaganda, that bond remained solid.

Wang Tao paused, then analyzed the "struggle situation" for Wei Aiwen. Dingding's plan was strategically sound in its starting point, so the military couldn't oppose it and therefore could only "give strong support." Though Wei Aiwen agreed with this in principle, from the perspective of defending his turf, he hoped to execute "strong support" as "mind my own business."

But if He Ming also adopted this approach, it would be purely creating problems for himself—no practical benefit, while leaving a poor impression with the Propaganda sector.

"...Perhaps if you'd just gone ahead and done it without saying anything, He Ming wouldn't have commented either. But once you explicitly raise the issue, if he doesn't take a clear stance, that would be highly inappropriate." Wang Tao pinched out more snuff and inhaled it beneath his nose.

Wei Aiwen lit a Holy Ship cigarette, leaned back against the sofa, and stared at the ceiling fan for a long moment. Organizing his thoughts, he swallowed the self-criticism portion and said: "So you're saying passive defense won't work. Better to go on the offensive and achieve some results."

"That's the idea." Wang Tao leaned in closer. "Think back to when we ran the Recall Past Bitterness campaign—wasn't Queen Du also doing propaganda? Of course she was, and she started even earlier than us. But what we did was grounded in reality. No slogans, no theories. Soldiers were willing to participate. And then Queen Du found herself sidelined—didn't she even have to thank us for the support?"

"That's the way." Wei Aiwen stroked his nonexistent little mustache, his expression one of deep agreement.

"I'd say your pace has been a bit slow. The troops have begun large-scale return and reorganization. After two years of fighting, there must be piles of ideological issues."

Once his thinking opened up, Wei Aiwen transformed into a different person. He rattled off several projects in rapid succession. Wang Tao helped brainstorm. The two talked until dinnertime. Wei Aiwen's notebook was already filled with several pages. He waved his hand grandly: "Ziming House? My treat."

Wang Tao pressed down Wei Aiwen's hand with a chuckle. "Let me take you somewhere nice."

(End of Chapter)