Wang Zhiguo was parachuted in from the Provincial Department. Upon taking office, he discovered that the Annan County Public Security Bureau had already been tightly controlled by Deputy Director Zhang Shusen, who had turned it into an impenetrable fortress.
Among the 26 Town Police Stations, 18 station heads and most of the instructors had been promoted by him. The leaders of the Criminal Police Team, Public Security Brigade, Traffic Police Brigade, and the office director were all his trusted subordinates.
Wang Zhiguo had been in his position for nearly two years but had yet to break the deadlock in his work.
On ordinary days, several deputy directors and heads of various departments treated him with utmost respect, addressing him as Director Wang. However, deep down, they held no real reverence for this "top leader."
Over the past year, only a few station heads and instructors truly stood by him, but their influence was too light on the scales of the entire bureau.
During meetings at the bureau, whether regarding personnel or business matters, although they followed a democratic process before centralizing decisions, Wang Zhiguo knew he could not steer the focus. Generally, it was left to Executive Deputy Director Zhang Shusen to take center stage. Most colleagues and subordinates viewed this as Wang surrendering to his deputy; they believed his tenure was effectively over and that he might soon have to request a transfer.
Wang Zhiguo had managed to rise to the Provincial Department and was appointed as a county bureau chief; clearly, he possessed considerable skills. He waited patiently for an opportunity while discreetly working behind the scenes.
In his hands lay numerous incriminating materials against "Dog Young Master": charges of provoking trouble, intentional injury, and indecent assault. He also had leads on Zhang Shusen's loyal subordinates engaging in favoritism and corruption, along with evidence of Zhang's protection and indulgence of these activities.
However, these materials were not powerful enough for him to act against a group of people single-handedly; that would not be bravery but recklessness. Moreover, he needed a catalyst. He had to ensure that when he struck, it would be decisive—leaving no room for his opponents to maneuver, not even a sliver of opportunity.
One must understand that the business world is akin to a battlefield; how different is the political arena?
This situation mirrored his experiences on the southern front years ago—either you survive or I do.
At 42 years old this year, Wang Zhiguo's child attended high school in the Provincial Capital. His spouse frequently traveled between the Provincial Capital and Annan. Seeking peace and to avoid unnecessary worries, he chose not to live in the police housing but instead resided alone in a suite at the county government guesthouse.
What he didn't expect was that just as Zhang Shusen had suggested promoting him from a deputy position to a full role, Qiu Sixi, the Chief of Laogu Township Police Station, called his office just before closing time to report on work matters. He proposed to meet at an inconspicuous tea house named "Hao Zai Lai" in the eastern part of the city.
According to an old colleague in the department, Qiu Sixi graduated from the police academy and had risen through the ranks from rural origins. His record was clean; throughout his years in service, he had not left any blemishes that could be criticized. He was seen as someone who could foster unity.
However, Wang Zhiguo was hesitant to take any risks. First, he had to be responsible for himself, and second, he needed to be responsible for Qiu Sixi.
His current situation was not optimistic. After more than a year without improvement, aligning with Qiu Sixi might not be beneficial for him at this moment. If Qiu Sixi remained indecisive, it could cast a shadow over his relationship with that old colleague in the department.
Moreover, not long ago, during a discussion on personnel matters at the bureau, Zhang Shusen had been the first to propose promoting Qiu Sixi from deputy director (acting) to a full director position, which received unanimous approval. This made Wang Zhiguo even less certain about Zhang Shusen's attitude toward Qiu Sixi.
Now that Qiu Sixi had taken the initiative to call and "report on work," and suggested meeting at a tea house, what did this mean?
This tea house was owned by Qiu Jiadong, Qiu Sixi's cousin.
When Qiu Sixi was still in police academy, his family faced significant hardships. His father, who had lived in poverty for most of his life, developed a rare affliction known as diabetes. While this illness might not claim a life immediately, its accompanying complications—such as fatigue, blurred vision, heart disease related to diabetes, hypertension, and diabetic nephropathy—could be debilitating.
His mother suffered from postpartum complications when she gave birth to his youngest sister and could barely stand due to back pain. The meager two acres of land they struggled to cultivate were insufficient even for Qiu Sixi's tuition fees, let alone monthly living expenses. In his small room, Qiu Sixi cried bitterly; he did not blame his parents. They had done everything they could to support his education. If there was blame to be placed, it should be on his unfortunate fate.
It was his cousin's father—Qiu Sixi's uncle—who stepped in at this critical juncture when Qiu Sixi faced dropping out of school. He tirelessly sought guarantees and loans for his nephew and even contributed savings accumulated over years of selling goods from a cart to ensure that Qiu Sixi could complete three years of university.
Unfortunately, just as Qiu Sixi graduated and secured a position in the force that same year, his uncle tragically passed away in a car accident.
Qiu Sixi donned mourning clothes and helped his father support his cousin through the funeral arrangements. When they buried his uncle, neighbors remarked, "This child has deep feelings; look how he weeps more than Jiadong..."
Uncle was a small business expert, but Cousin did not inherit their father's true skills. He was very honest and initially sold Caramelized Rice Sugar by walking through the streets. However, he was too straightforward; when the village women paid, they would always say, "Add a little more, add a little more..." and then take a handful for themselves. Qiu Jiadong would just smile and let them do it. After a month, this small business not only failed to make any profit but also incurred significant losses.
Later, he rode a Twenty-Eight Bar Bicycle carrying two large baskets to collect scrap materials. He was too shy to haggle with people and would always weigh the items with the scale tilted low (this wasn’t selling goods). When he returned home to check what he had collected, he often found that old steel pipes were filled with dirt or that bundles of old newspapers had been soaked with water.
As Uncle's hard-earned wealth dwindled in Cousin's hands, Qiu Sixi felt more anxious than anyone else. Uncle had devoted all his efforts to support him during his lifetime, effectively changing the course of his life. Now, he couldn’t bear to see Uncle's family and his own brother continue down this path.
To help his brother improve his situation, Qiu Sixi used his position as an Instructor at the Town Police Station to assist Cousin in opening a Tea House on the outskirts of the county town. He also subtly hinted to some local businesses about it. The local bosses were quite accommodating and often came by to play cards or drink tea. While the business wasn’t booming, it was enough for Cousin’s family to live comfortably.
Later, when Qiu Sixi was promoted to director after "going rural," these bosses knew that he had moved up in the world. They continued to support Cousin’s business, and over time, genuine customers began to appear as well. After some calculations, Cousin realized that even without his brother’s connections, the Tea House could operate sustainably.
Qiu Sixi and Qiu Jiadong were closely related, even closer than biological brothers.
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