Chapter 443: A Political Lesson

If it were truly put to a vote in the Senate, it was hard to say whether the land reform plan would even pass. That was why land policy had become a sensitive point for the entire body of Elders; no one dared to touch it, and so it was endlessly delayed.

Now, faced with the urgent reality of “returning to the mainland,” they could delay no longer. The Director-General’s cryptic remarks were surely not limited to this special lecture; the latest theoretical journals likely held new revelations.

While his mind raced, his mouth continued its tirade, tearing Latin America to shreds.

Latin Americanization was one of the primary narratives in the “China collapse theory.” Back in his “Keyboard Politburo” days, Liu Xiang had put a great deal of effort into studying it. He now launched into a long, breathless sermon.

As he was pontificating, Qian Xuanhuang announced that the Master and Madam had called to say they would not be returning for the night. They had to “attend a temporary expanded meeting.”

Liu Xiang and Qian Shuixie were both taken aback. Though the recent martial arts drama had created some excitement, the general situation was deceptively quiet. There were no major operations in any direction. Apart from a few key departments, it was rare for government offices to work through the night. Could something have happened?

“In that case, I will take my leave. I will come to pay my respects to Speaker Qian tomorrow,” Liu Xiang said, rising.

“I am so sorry…” Qian Shuixie said, his face a mask of apology.

“Not at all, not at all. It was a rare moment of leisure for me as well,” Liu Xiang said. “I will come again when the Speaker has time.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Then we will take our leave as well,” the members of the Women’s Maritime Team chimed in.

What was this “temporary expanded meeting” about? Judging by its form, it was no small matter. And why was Ai Beibei attending? The Ministry of Health… could there be a plague?

Standing on the deck, watching the Women’s Maritime Team’s carriage disappear into the night, Liu Xiang’s mind was filled with uneasy speculation.

“Yunmi, the things Teacher Liu talked about today… didn’t we already find some of it in the Great Library? Why did you ask him specifically?”

Lin Ziqi and Zhang Yunmi were whispering in their carriage.

“It’s always useful to ask. At the very least, you have a new direction for your writing, don’t you?” Zhang Yunmi replied absently, her mind elsewhere.

“That’s not it. After that attack, you seem to have grown quieter, not as cheerful as before. But you were so proactive today.” Lin Ziqi suddenly threw her arms around Zhang Yunmi. “Didn’t we promise to be together forever? My dear wife, don’t abandon me! Please don’t go find an uncle!”

“If not an uncle, then should I be like you and wait for your little ward to grow up?” Zhang Yunmi pushed Lin Ziqi away with a look of disgust.

“No, no, no! That’s not the point! Wife, wife, are you really going to find an uncle? No way! You’re the most popular idol!”

“Can I be an idol forever? Besides, don’t idols just attract those otaku uncles anyway? It’s just for fun, you can’t take it seriously. As for those monkeys in the selection group, whether you’re an idol or not, there’s always a crowd of ‘ambitious’ ones fawning all over you,” Zhang Yunmi said, looking troubled. “I like to dress up and sing and dance, but I can’t make a career out of it like Teacher Liu. A hobby and a job are two different things.”

“Hey, hey, hey, wife! You! Are! Not! Seriously! Considering! This! Are! You!” Lin Ziqi was genuinely shocked now, asking each word with emphasis.

“After the new year, the first five-year plan will be over. We’ll have the right to vote in the second five-year assembly. Do you really not understand what that means?” Zhang Yunmi sighed.

Lin Ziqi’s mouth hung open. Her best friend had been quiet lately, but she had assumed it was just the shock of the attack and that she needed time to recover. She had never imagined she was contemplating such things.

“But… but… these uncles, they all have life secretaries!” Lin Ziqi finally managed, though it didn’t quite follow her friend’s logic.

“So what? Should I live like Teacher Wu or Auntie Du? Or find a naturalized citizen? Not to mention whether he’d find a mistress—not that they’d dare—could we even have a conversation?” Zhang Yunmi shook her head. “Waiting for your little ward to be ‘cultivated’ might be an option. Go for it, I’m rooting for you!”

“But… but why Teacher Liu? Aren’t there others closer to our age, like Lord Lu?”

“Yes, the ones who spent years trying to get us to call them ‘big brother,’ with four-plus sweetness! Now I know, they’re just a bunch of sister-complex perverts!” Zhang Yunmi spat, her voice laced with venom.

“Um… but why Teacher Liu?”

“Since when did I say it was him? Don’t worry, he’s not my type. I’m just talking about our tragic fate as female Elders!” Zhang Yunmi retorted, pulling Lin Ziqi into an embrace. “If you say another word, you won’t be sleeping tonight!” She grabbed Lin Ziqi’s chest from behind and began to knead vigorously.

“Wife! Have mercy! Aren’t you the one crashing at my place tonight? Why are you so vicious! No, ah…” Lin Ziqi moaned, begging for mercy.

The carriage was filled with a suggestive air. Outside, the driver and guards were all thoroughly embarrassed…

Poor Zhang Yunmi still had no idea what momentous event had occurred that day, an event that had necessitated an expanded meeting; still less did she know that the topic of that meeting was so intimately connected to her.

In a classroom at the academy. Only a few scattered students were present. Their faces were blurry, but she could name each one. On the lecture platform, a slightly stout figure was speaking.

“…Right now, the syllabus for ‘Politics’ is still being written. What exactly will be taught hasn’t been decided. But there is a consensus on some things, and those are what I will teach you…

“…From my own experience, I can only say that the politics classes in our old schools were the most truthful. The state is a machine of violence used by the ruling class to maintain its rule. The law is a tool used by the ruling class to maintain its rule. There are individuals who betray their class, but no class that betrays its interests…

“…Regardless of whether you have a talent for mathematics, you must study statistics well. It is the foundation of all social sciences. Without statistics, the social sciences cannot be called ‘sciences’ at all. And if you learn statistics well, you will have mastered a modern art of governance. Today, we will discuss the statistical concept we heard most often in our original time: the so-called GDP…”

“…In this world, you must never again cling to your old ways of thinking. You must develop the consciousness of a ruling class.”

Such a powerful sentence. Lin Ziqi opened her eyes.

She had fallen asleep again. She quickly sat up. In any time, in any space, she had never liked politics class. It always felt like it had nothing to do with her.

She looked at Zhang Yunmi, whose eyes were bright and focused. She thought of their whispered conversation in bed that morning: about the future, about “boyfriends,” and some other “not-safe-for-children” topics…

She was lost in thought when a knock came at the door. It opened, and a naturalized citizen, an academic affairs secretary who was also Headmaster Zhang’s life secretary, entered. He whispered a few words in the lecturer’s ear. Zhang Zhixiang, who had been speaking with great animation, immediately stopped the lesson. “You all study on your own for a bit,” he said, and hurried out.

Fangcaodi was completely different from how it had started—except for the ambiguous, 80s-style statue at the entrance. The running track was still cinders, but the grass in the middle had been replaced with a proper turf. Two new wings had been added to the teaching building. A dedicated library had been built. The “practical training classrooms,” once just reed mat sheds, were now proper factory buildings. The school motto on the wall had been freshly repainted, and a newly designed Fangcaodi crest had been added.

He ran into his former colleague, Xiao Zhaochuan, and after a brief greeting, asked where Hu Qingbai was teaching. It was Monday; after the flag-raising ceremony, he would be giving the “Weekly Current Events” political lesson to the selection group students in the lecture hall. Leaving Xiao Zhaochuan, who was buried behind a stack of papers so high it obscured his face, Liu Xiang walked straight to the lecture hall.

The lecture hall had been built with great care. Since amplification equipment could not be relied upon long-term, they had to make full use of the building’s internal structure. At the time, the construction company was full of “talents”; unlike now, where most had moved on to other fields, leaving only a few like Mei Wan and Qi Feng to hold the fort. Back then, everyone had poured their efforts into the lecture hall project, taking turns supervising the work, testing the acoustics, and making endless adjustments. So now, even from outside the door, Liu Xiang could clearly hear Hu Qingbai’s voice. He tried the door; as expected, it was unlocked. He slipped inside quietly. Hu Qingbai saw him, and after a moment, recognized his former subordinate. He didn’t stop, merely slowing his pace slightly. The sound of the door had, of course, been heard, but the students did not stir. A few boys shifted, wanting to turn and look, but they controlled themselves.

“The discipline is good,” Liu Xiang murmured to himself, finding an empty seat.

“…Chen Guangji’s last reflection paper, I thought, was the best written. Not because of its ideological depth, but because of his use of Mandarin, the sense of life in his writing, which is stronger than most. When you all write, you often slip in your local dialects, and for some dialect words that have no Mandarin equivalent, you just throw in a similar-sounding character.” Hu Qingbai praised the student, Chen Guangji, and called on everyone to learn from him. Following the students’ gaze, Liu Xiang found the slightly thin and frail student. He had his head lowered slightly, his face flushed red. Liu Xiang gave a gentle nod.