Chapter 234: Putting It into Action

“In that case, let’s proceed. I will help you further communicate with the Executive Committee and the Senate. You should get started as soon as possible.” Jiang Shan stood up and firmly shook the other’s hand.

“Rest assured. The Zheng and Liu Xiang families are now fish in a pot. Just wait for my good news.”

The man who had entered was dressed in a standard “cadre uniform,” but his long hair was tied back in a ponytail. It was none other than Lin Baiguang, the current head of the Guangzhou Station, who had secretly returned to Lingao from Guangzhou a few days ago.

He had returned to Lingao to discuss a matter of great importance with Jiang Shan, a matter that was crucial to the Commonwealth and involved the final resolution of the Liu Xiang group.

Since retreating to the Chaoshan area, the Liu Xiang group had adopted a strategy of lying low to counter the Commonwealth Navy’s expansion in the Fujian and Guangdong waters. With the devastating blow dealt to the Zheng Zhilong group and the tightening control over Tainan, the Commonwealth Navy had effectively seized complete command of the seas along the Fujian and Guangdong coasts.

The remnants of the Zheng group were besieged between Kinmen and Xiamen, their merchant ships unable to set sail. The Liu Xiang group, hiding in the Chaoshan region, faced a similar predicament. Raiding was impossible, and trade could not be conducted. Their large force was a huge drain on resources. Unlike the Zheng family, the Liu Xiang group did not have extensive landholdings or government support. While their fleet and manpower were intact, this immense strength had become a heavy economic burden.

Although Lin Baiguang was based in Guangzhou, his focus had long since shifted to the maritime powers of the Guangdong and Fujian regions. He was well aware of the Liu Xiang group’s situation. His return to Lingao this time was to propose his plan for the “final solution” to the Liu Xiang problem.

The plan was somewhat risky but promised great returns. Lin Baiguang believed the success rate was over ninety percent. The plan had already received preliminary approval from the Executive Committee.

After seeing Lin Baiguang off, the secretary announced that Wang Ding had arrived.

“Show him in.”

Wang Ding came to his office to report in person on the materials gathered from a private investigation into Cheng Yongxin. Overall, there wasn’t much of substance. Jiang Shan already knew that Cheng Yongxin was a Taiwanese girl. Although she avoided the topic and her Mandarin had almost no Taiwanese accent, her origins were occasionally betrayed by her grammar, word choice, and pronunciation of certain common words. She had majored in classical Chinese at a university in mainland China and had defended her thesis to earn a Master of Arts degree before D-Day. During her university years, she had dabbled in screenwriting, co-authoring several lesser-known television drama scripts, mostly historical dramas and family melodramas.

As for why she transmigrated, her own account was as follows:

Before D-Day, she was just a university student with a dream of writing, foolishly diving into the Chinese department. When she discovered that philology had little to do with the American TV shows she loved, Cheng Yongxin, along with a senior she met in an elective class, spent her days at a television station, taking on scriptwriting jobs for production crews.

Before graduation, the senior naturally became her boyfriend, and she became the assistant to a famous screenwriter. Her academic, professional, and romantic life was smooth sailing. Considering she wasn’t getting any younger after her master’s degree, she thought getting married early would be a good way to settle down, so wedding plans with her senior were put on the agenda.

That was until she discovered that her senior had copied a script outline from her hard drive and given it to the creatively bankrupt famous screenwriter, and had also secured a likable supporting role for his third-rate actress mistress.

She remained calm, but simplified all the wedding plans, tricking her senior into thinking he could have his cake and eat it too. On the day of the banquet, in front of friends, family, colleagues, and superiors, amidst the blessings of the master of ceremonies, she turned and sprayed the groom with champagne, adding a slap to the stunned man’s face for good measure.

“Someone pass a message to Director Zhu for me. Tell his little lover to come and collect her adulterous man. I, Cheng Yongxin, have no use for a petty thief who only knows how to plagiarize others’ work!”

This dramatic turn from in-laws to enemies was certainly satisfying for Cheng Yongxin, but she had to lie low for a while. After a soul-searching and inspiration-gathering solo trip, she ended up in Lingao, a place in western Hainan that even seasoned backpackers wouldn’t visit.

Of course, if she hadn’t seen Chief Wen’s post, she wouldn’t have chosen Lingao as her final destination. But unlike the other enthusiastic transmigrators, until D-Day, she, like the accidentally involved Guo Yi and others, believed it was a survivalist cult.

It wasn’t so much that Cheng Yongxin truly believed the other side of the wormhole was the Ming Dynasty, but rather that she was more interested in how Chief Wen and the others would explain themselves after the D-Day scam fell apart. It was, in a way, an occupational hazard—an instinctive curiosity for dramatic people and events.

“Where did this information come from, and how reliable is it?” Jiang Shan asked after hearing Wang Ding’s report, finding it somewhat incredible.

“It’s based on her own accounts. She has told people around her about her past experiences more than once. The versions vary slightly, but this is the general gist.”

“I find this experience too dramatic.”

“Based on analysis of the background information, combined with her experience as a screenwriter, we can’t rule out the possibility that she has dramatized her own experiences.” Wang Ding smiled. “It’s human nature to embellish one’s own stories.

“Stripping away the overly dramatic elements, I believe her real-life experience before D-Day was likely this: attended university, worked as a screenwriter for TV dramas, and was cheated on by her boyfriend. Her motive for joining the transmigration should also be genuine.”

“Tell me about her work and life at the Great Library.”

“In short, there isn’t much to tell. She basically lives a reclusive life. Her main job at the Great Library is translating and polishing classical and vernacular Chinese texts.”

Specifically, on one hand, she translates various Ming Dynasty documents and archives into modern Chinese for reference by various departments. On the other hand, she “Ming-ifies” various propaganda materials. The Propaganda Department and the Office of Truth produce all sorts of promotional materials daily, most of which need to be polished and translated into classical or vernacular Chinese.

This was routine work at the Great Library, and there was an endless supply of it. Cheng Yongxin performed exceptionally well, delivering both quality and quantity. Therefore, Yu E’shui was quite affirmative of her work.

As for her private life, even her colleagues at the Great Library knew very little. Cheng Yongxin’s daily life was a two-point line. When work was busy, she slept in the dormitory at the Great Library. Occasionally, she would go to the Farm Café and Lingao Cape Park for leisure, attend parties held by the Feiyun Club, and had participated in several meetings organized by the Women’s Federation.

Besides these gatherings, she had few private interactions. She associated more with female transmigrators and had very little contact with male transmigrators, mostly for work purposes. Many transmigrators in the industrial and military sectors didn’t even know her.

Further investigation into these activities revealed that she was not overly close to any specific group. It could be said that her relationships were all superficial. She was quite active at parties but rarely expressed her ideological leanings. She never commented on the Commonwealth’s policies or other transmigrators, seeming to have an attitude of indifference towards politics.

“…She recently submitted an application to the General Office to purchase a maidservant. The application has been approved, but she hasn’t gone to select one yet.”

Other than that, there was nothing worth mentioning.

From this, it seemed that Cheng Yongxin was nothing special, living a semi-reclusive life. For now, it was unclear what her thoughts were on the Commonwealth’s political circles.

“Let’s leave it at that for now. Thank you for your hard work.”

“It’s a pity we don’t have an intelligence network and corresponding connections in Lingao,” Wang Ding said. “Should we go through the Political Security Bureau?”

Over the past six months, Wang Ding and Wu Mu had established a good “professional collaboration.”

“No, they can’t know about this. All the notes you took during the investigation must be destroyed.” Jiang Shan let out a breath. “That fellow Zhao Manxiong, who knows how much dirt he’s secretly gathered on the transmigrators. Now he’s using the Hao Yuan case and the purge of the overseas stations as an opportunity to extend his reach to the security departments of the overseas stations.”

“Alright.”

Cheng Yongxin got off work early today, leaving the library at five. After returning to her dormitory, she took a shower, applied a little jasmine perfume from Zichengji, and then boarded the commuter train.

She bought a ticket to the Nanhai Demonstration Farm. After getting off at the station, she hailed a rickshaw from the Tiandihui’s taxi service.

“To the Farm Café,” she instructed the driver.

The rickshaw soon arrived at the café entrance. As she got off, the Spanish doorman, Sancho, greeted her with a beaming smile:

“Welcome, madam.”

“Thank you.” Cheng Yongxin showed her card. “I have a reservation for a private room.”

“Yes, please come in.” Sancho eagerly rushed forward a few steps to open the café door for her.

It was still early. At five-thirty, most transmigrators had not finished work, and the first floor of the café was almost empty. She had reserved a small private room on the second floor.

“Coconut water for me. Is the dinner I ordered ready?” Cheng Yongxin had pre-ordered the limited edition vanilla roasted lamb chops set, of which there were only ten servings a day, said to be exquisite.

“It is ready. When should we serve it?”

“Wait for my signal.”

“Yes, Chief.”

Cheng Yongxin looked at her Swiss watch. There were five minutes until the appointed time. She picked up the young coconut with a straw inserted, sipping the coconut water while planning how to start the conversation.

A few days ago, she had gone to the office of the Lingao Times, which was also the office of the Propaganda Department, on official business regarding the publication of a pamphlet. By chance, she had witnessed an argument between Ding Ding and his wife in their office.

It was this argument that finally made her decide to put into action the plan she had been mulling over for several years.