Chapter One Hundred and Two: Old Liu Has Been Acting a Little Strange Lately

In County A of Guizhou, early morning.

Last night, Lu Kun finally managed to slip through the back door of his own wife, and now he was feeling fresh and invigorated.

He had held back for more than half a month, and at last, after all that restraint, he had thoroughly enjoyed himself last night.

Lu Kun was brushing his teeth when Sun Bowen called the landline at his home.

“Hello, boss. Good morning,” Sun Bowen greeted him cheerfully over the phone.

“Not good. I’m brushing my teeth right now,” Lu Kun replied without even thinking.

And that was the truth: he had on a vest up top, a pair of loose shorts below, slippers on his feet, and had only just run in from the balcony to answer the phone, toothpaste foam still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

His wife was pregnant and had recently started feeling sleepy all the time. On top of that, the two of them had been at it half the night yesterday and hadn’t slept long. He couldn’t let the phone’s ringing wake her.

“Then, boss, should I call you back later?” Sun Bowen asked after a moment’s thought.

“All right,” Lu Kun said, and hung up at once.

Sun Bowen: “...”

Beep, beep, beep.

...

Breakfast was made by Lu Kun.

Radish with sour and spicy seasoning, served with plain rice porridge; the whole family ate with great relish.

“Where are the newspapers from these past few days?” Lu Kun wandered through the living room but couldn’t find them, so he turned back and asked his wife and child.

“They’re in the study. I put all the papers on the bookshelf. You’ll see them as soon as you go in,” Liu Liping said, taking a tissue to wipe the corner of her mouth.

In slippers, Lu Kun padded into the study, took out the newspapers from the past half month, and read them carefully.

“Tsk, tsk.”

Seated in a reclining chair, Lu Kun clicked his tongue. “Lao Liu has been getting a little too flashy lately!”

Liu Liping sat on the sofa beside him, handed him a grape, and stuffed it into his mouth. “Exactly. I’ve even heard about it. Lao Liu has really become famous lately.”

“How so?” Lu Kun also plucked a grape from the fruit plate and fed it to her.

“How else? People are saying that Liu Dexin has become the turd-stirrer of the Gui'an political scene,” Liu Liping said with a pout.

“Hahaha, has that old bastard been voting recklessly again at the standing committee meeting?” Lu Kun burst out laughing and nearly choked on the grape seed.

“Exactly. Rumor has it that no one in Gui'an politics dares to mess with him now, not even Gao Weiliang can do anything to him.”

Liu Liping continued, passing along the little gossip she had heard from some neighborly matron.

“I knew it. Lao Liu has always been an old hooligan, willing to use any filthy trick.”

In truth, Lu Kun understood Liu Dexin’s situation very well.

Old Liu was indeed a bit greedy for money, but he had real ability. Otherwise, in his previous life, he would never have climbed to such a high position.

He wanted to stretch his ambitions, but reality kept him cooped up in an office all day, “a cup of tea, a cigarette, and a newspaper for half the day.”

His random voting at the standing committee was a way of asserting his presence internally. As for outwardly, just look at the newspaper in Lu Kun’s hands.

“Whether there is more planning or more market, that is not the essential distinction between capitalism and socialism. Planned economy and market economy are merely instruments of macroeconomic regulation.

The essence of socialism lies in liberating the productive forces, developing the productive forces, eliminating exploitation, abolishing polarization, and ultimately achieving common prosperity...”

In the second major section of the Gui'an Daily, Liu Dexin’s name was printed clearly beneath the article.

“This skinning old fox is about to rise,” Lu Kun said with a sigh.

Someone above must have taken notice of that cunning old bastard, because this was the provincial newspaper, subscribed to by every office and department, a true barometer of developments in An Gui.

It had to be said that Liu Dexin was very bold, and he had chosen the timing well.

So bold, in fact, that he dared to put “market economy” on equal footing with “planned economy,” openly declaring himself a complete reformist.

The timing was good because reformists had already gained near-overwhelming advantage, though there remained the danger of a counterattack.

Liu Dexin must already have entered the sights of those with influence; it would not be long before he was done sitting on that cold bench.

Before long, he would truly be able to spread his wings.

After the great man’s southern inspection in ninety-two, economic development became the order of the day, and the room for Liu Dexin to maneuver would only grow larger.

Lu Kun even suspected that in his previous life, if Liu Shixun had not dragged down his father Liu Dexin, then Liu Dexin’s prospects would likely have gone far beyond the post of political and legal chief of Fengyang; pushing further upward would not have been a problem at all.

Still, Liu Dexin was now covered head to toe in mud. Though much of it had been “wiped clean” by him, “if you want no one to know, do not do it yourself.” Once something has been done, traces remain. In the future, someone might well seize on this and attack him with it.

...

Beep, beep, beep.

Speak of the devil.

“Hello, Brother Liu, am I supposed to congratulate you again? I’m afraid it won’t be many days before I have to set up another banquet to celebrate your promotion,” Lu Kun said lazily, legs crossed.

“Oh, come now, Brother Lu, no need to be polite. I’ll speak plainly: I’ve got something I need to ask of you,” Liu Dexin said directly, not bothering with the slightest roundaboutness.

Lu Kun had a rough idea of what he wanted to say. Most likely, he wanted to claim some credit from the matter of Huakun Chain Supermarket Group being converted into a joint venture. There was no way he could swallow it all by himself; even the provincial government had its eyes on it.

“Brother Liu, are you moving into the post in charge of industry and agriculture?” Lu Kun asked, somewhat surprised.

Liu Dexin had risen too quickly, so his foundation was inevitably unstable. If he were promoted again now, it would be far too conspicuous.

“Nothing like that.

My guess is, I’ll need to get some accomplishments from you before the higher-ups can justifiably let me oversee industrial and agricultural economic work.”

Liu Dexin chuckled on the other end of the line.

“Fine, no problem. Just go talk to Sun Bowen directly.

But, Brother Liu, if you start interfering in Gui'an’s industrial and agricultural economic affairs now, what if the person currently in charge of that portfolio gets angry?” Lu Kun probed.

“Brother Lu, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll find a way to kick him out,” Liu Dexin said, nearly thumping his chest in assurance.

Lu Kun: “...”

All right then.

You can fight your internal battles all you want, just don’t affect Huakun’s development.

Lu Kun was doing Liu Dexin a favor mainly as an investment.

Liu Dexin was not the sort of person who broke promises. If he rose further, it would be of great benefit to the Huakun faction.

After that matter was settled, Lu Kun chatted with Liu Dexin for a while longer before finding an excuse to hang up.

Then Sun Bowen called again.

This call was mainly to report on the development of the Huakun faction over the past half month.

Looking at the flood of newspaper and television coverage about Huakun Chain Supermarket Group soon becoming the first Sino-foreign joint venture in An Gui Province, Lu Kun could readily imagine just how explosive Huakun’s recent sales must have been.

Thanks to book friend Prison Cell Number Fourteen for the five-hundred Qidian coin tip!