Chapter 4: The Imperial Army Again in the Dust of Barbarian

At dinner, she acted gracefully and politely towards everyone while speaking sweetly to the guests. She clearly appeared to be a well-mannered young lady who had received proper upbringing—though Yu Q...Chapter 4: Another Year of Barbarian Dust and Imperial Army

The people left behind have shed all their tears in the dust, yet they still look southward for the imperial army, which fails to come year after year.

The day after the New Year's Eve party at the university where numerous beauties from the Economics Department performed dazzlingly, Xiao Xu woke up as usual and sat on his desk to open his foreign language book to the page he had been reading last night. He then flipped over the old calendar to its final page. Looking out of the window, he saw bare trees standing amidst thick fog, with men and women clad in down jackets walking along the road below. This scene somehow triggered a certain nerve, prompting him to recite the above lines before noticing that the new calendar displayed 2005.

The calendar had turned over, marking another winter of heavy mist. The shiny thermos pots carried by students upon entering the campus were already covered in grime and blemishes. The residents of Room 602 collectively advanced to their senior year, thus another year had passed.

It was now 2005.

According to statistics, Britain's GDP for this year stood at $205 billion, while the People's Republic saw a growth of 9.9% in its GDP, reaching a total value of $224 billion and becoming the world’s fourth-largest economy after the US, Japan, and Germany. If Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwan were included, it would rank third globally. The slogan 'catching up with Britain and surpassing America' that had been chanted for half a century finally bore historical significance at this moment. Despite foreign media reporting on this rapid rise, the official mainstream press refrained from celebrating this "historic moment" in order to curb an emerging worship of GDP.

However, the unprecedented surge in housing prices across major cities became the most direct reflection and window into this phenomenon.

On New Year's Day 2005, Su Cun was serving a steaming hot pot he had prepared at his apartment in Manhattan's first tower, having rubbed his finger against his ear after accidentally scalding his hand.

Then Lin Luoran came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spoon, walking into the living room with a smile for Tang Wu who was about to start eating at the dining table, as well as Wang Weiwei, Li Pengyu, and Lin Zhouwu, Mu Kaizhu, and others. She said, "Thanks to friends from Chengdu bringing over some spicy pot base ingredients, although I cooked the hot pot, Su Cun bought the materials, while Wang Weiwei and Lin Zhouwu handled washing and logistics, and Tang Wu did initial processing on the chopping board... It's a collective effort."

Wang Weiwei grumbled, "Talking so much... Are you preemptively transferring responsibility in case what comes out of your cooking isn't to everyone's liking"

Liu Luoran pinched Wang Weiwei lightly and said, "When did you become this smart"

Wang Weiwei looked up at Lin Luoran’s stunningly beautiful face with a thoughtful expression, seemingly wanting to delve into her eyes. He replied in a meaningful tone, "I've always been this smart... You just never noticed or acknowledged it."

"Is that so Well, it's a shame then. When you're driving around admiring the beauty of nature, would you stop or turn back to see an inconspicuous birch tree You wouldn't, and neither will I." Lin Luoran's beautiful eyes dimmed slightly as she turned her head away. She then clapped her hands together and smiled, saying, "We can start now."

Seeing that Lin Zouwu had dodged the question caused Wang Weiwei's gaze to darken but he quickly brightened up as if he had come to some realization. He raised his chopsticks and said, "Eat eat eat."

The food turned out to be surprisingly delicious.

Fireworks were set off through Su Can’s apartment window, painting the city sky with a curtain of light. Amidst this scene, everyone was enjoying hot pot dishes such as potato slices, crab sticks, and tender beef slices, drinking cans of beer, feeling like they were in a street market in heaven.

Lin Zouwu and others saw a pile of magazines on the coffee table that Su Can had left. On the cover of one copy of The Wall Street Journal was Zuckerberg’s freckled face with yellow curls. He was sitting on a stool, talking eloquently behind him was a white screen from a projector, showing Facebook's strategic plan. This picture was taken during an open lecture called "Team Energy" at Stanford University. It was said that students at Stanford had positively questioned Zuckerberg on the day of the lecture about whether his genius or reputation as an idiot came from betrayal in Silicon Valley. This caused some uncontrollable commotion.

This might be how people evaluate him, a ball of trouble under the guise of a genius. However, there were also many media outlets trying to objectively explain Zuckerberg; since last summer, California has had numerous interviews and reports on him, attempting to portray an image: he will turn 23 this year, his name is Mark Zuckerberg, just like you, a very lonely young man. He owns Facebook in America, wealth, Bentley cars, and a recently purchased mansion worth $15 million. But he still wants to obtain the understanding of a former founder like a fool.

After eating dinner, Su Can stood on the balcony and accepted the coffee that Tang Wu handed him, which was quite warm and rich in taste. Mu Kaizhu called Tang Wu over from the living room to reason with her; it was obvious that Lin Zouwu had been teasing someone's child. However, Mu Kaizhu seemed to think highly of this somewhat naughty guy named Lin Zouwu. In fact, she could understand him well because Mu Kaizhu herself was quite rebellious and found Su Can’s composed demeanor more attractive than Lin Zouwu's.

Su Can stood alone on the balcony, feeling the breath of a great era sweeping over him. He officially entered an age of information explosion where his rebirth advantage was gradually disappearing. His life began to steer towards unknown waters but he had never been as excited as now, filled with passionate anticipation for tomorrow. Life was brimming with unprecedented tension.

A faint fragrance lingered in his nostrils, a familiar scent that seemed engraved deep within his soul. Was it Tang Wu’s body scent Su Can shook his head inwardly; no, it was another kind of smell.

Lin Luoran appeared from the side and rested her arm on the railing beside him, gazing at the city alongside him as fireworks exploded like a barrage above them.

"In your apartment, I saw the microwave oven, placement of bowls and cabinets, layout of the exhaust hood, direction of the refrigerator..." Lin Luoran murmured softly and turned her head to smile slightly with her shining lips, "Even the pebbles from Wusong River used for the decorative water feature in front of the window are spot on. Not bad taste; everything aligns with my initial design."

Two years ago, when Manhattan's first building was ready to be handed over, Su Can had asked Lin Luoran to give her opinions and turned all her imagined home concepts into reality. From the reception榻榻米, full-sunlight rooms, to the sightseeing balcony with a swing chair where she could occasionally wear Bohemian dresses and lazily nap; everything was now before their eyes as reality.

Su Cen smiled faintly, "One thing is still missing. Don't you feel uneasy with the empty space under the cabinet It's missing your pickle jar."

"Think again," Lin Luoran glared at him. She combed her long hair that had been blown about by the wind and her skirt fluttered in the breeze, her face slightly flushed as she spoke earnestly, "When my grandma gave me the pickle jar, I swore to myself that while the jar exists, so do I." Lin Luoran smiled again, "So I will definitely keep the pickle jar at home."

A long silence followed. After a moment, Su Cen glanced at her and said, "May I ask which faction your grandma belongs to"

As a result, Miss Lin was chased all over the house by the dense aura of killing intent.

The tenth National People's Congress of the People's Republic of China opened in Beijing.

The congress passed an announcement on Hu General Secretary’s election as the Chairman of the Central Military Commission. Later that month, at their third meeting, they adopted with 2898 votes, zero against and zero abstentions, the highly anticipated Anti-Secession Law of the People's Republic of China.

For many people, such a high number of votes passing this law was likely due to the increasing activities of secessionist forces since entering the new century. The country needed an official bill to maintain its territorial sovereignty integrity at that time. Meanwhile, media outlets suggested that the influence and inspiration from foreign political activities also contributed to this high-vote passage. A reporter from Phoenix Chinese Network asked a member of parliament if some overseas social networking sites had inspired patriotic demonstrations among Chinese people, which prompted such legislation to mobilize all patriotic forces. However, the representative did not directly respond but concluded by acknowledging that the Party Central Committee and State Council were closely monitoring both domestic and foreign situations.

On the day when the meeting in Beijing ended, Wang Bo and Foreign Ministry official Lin Guozhou, who had a close relationship, took advantage of this break to have a casual meal together.

A handsome young man also attended. Lin Guozhou introduced him as Wei Yuanhu, working at the Rural Policy Research Office under the National Development and Reform Commission, "He's from an old family."

Wei Yuanhu hurriedly shook hands with Wang Bo, his face filled with surprise. This was someone he had often heard about in Beijing, not very high-profile but when people mentioned Wang Bo, regardless of their position, it always came with a sense of admiration for the rise of this political star. Many descendants related to the Old Wang Family felt a kind of faith and respect for Wang Bo as if Wang Bo respected their elders too.

Due to their positions, they actually didn't have many opportunities to meet in person usually. Now, taking advantage of breaks during the meeting, they could sit down together again with some wine and peanuts just like before. Several years had passed, and both their situations were vastly different compared to the past.

After a while, Lin Guozhou sighed and asked, "Has Su Cen discussed his plans with you He seems well-prepared for whatever comes next. Old Wang, be wary of backstabbers." Considering Wei Yuanhu's presence, Lin Guozhou didn't elaborate further; in fact, Wang Bo was also aware that some people might lose control soon and take action first. Su Cen had already given him a very promising sign.

Wei Yuanhu naturally thought about Su Cen's situation as the founder in America, muttering to himself, "The meaning of power and privilege is that they can bully others at any time, manipulate the market at will, and use greater legal protection and stronger話語權 to force a weaker party out or harm their interests. The direction of our research on rural policies should be such; fundamentally, it must ensure the interests of the vast majority of farmers. Only by making hundreds of millions of farmers the main body in building new countryside can we fundamentally promote national economic development."

Wang Bo nodded and frowned slightly before his eyebrows relaxed as he said, "Don't worry, I have my own judgment. As for Su Cen's side, there’s no need to be concerned either; believe that he will find a way to handle it. After all these years, could you still think of him merely as an ordinary young man"

Lin Guzhou chuckled in agreement and said, "What do you think"

Wei Yuanhu saw the smile on Lin Guzhou's face and felt a strange taste in his heart. Since Lin Luoran didn't accompany him after their last encounter, he always felt that he was still under Su Cen’s shadow.

In the purple garden villa of Shanghai, Song Shihao, chairman of Senkawa Transnational Corporation, stayed at home. His wife Tao Qing was flipping through her reports while Song Zheng, dressed elegantly and praised by Paris fashion circles for her "distinctly classical Eastern charm," was fiddling with tea sets, brewing a pot of green tea. The air was filled with the faint aroma of tea.

Such a scene made Song Shihao feel that life was indeed enjoyable.

Sitting next to him was Song Xiancheng, president of Greater China Region and Song Zheng's uncle. Standing nearby were several famous professional managers from Senkawa's subsidiary companies. It was rare for them to see the entire family of the chairman together in his home. Especially with Song Zheng personally brewing tea for them made everyone feel touched enough to shed tears.

Earlier, they had been discussing various topics—current affairs, high-level matters, strategic development, and major figures' movements that could impact Senkawa's business both domestically and internationally. Unable to hold back any longer, Song Xiancheng asked, "I really can't understand why Facebook Chinese hasn’t submitted a lawsuit against the American side yet. They expelled their founder from the board and excessively diluted Su Cen’s shareholding as the second-largest shareholder. According to the current situation, it's already ripe for filing a suit. From what I know, the federal trade arbitration agency has received their request for arbitration but is still in the investigation stage. Up till now, there hasn't been any formal lawsuit filed from China..."

Tao Qing looked at Song Shihao with an attentive expression. Even Song Zheng lifted her head from her work and perked up her ears.

Massaging his chair armrest, Song Shihao sighed, shook his head, and said, "Why hasn't there been a formal lawsuit... Xiancheng, why don't you ask our legal department in America"

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