Between Fang Yong’s home and the city government lay a stretch of open road. Zhou Rong had his driver park his Mercedes-Benz by the roadside. He and his secretary Hu Jianren sat in the car, waiting for a full half hour before finally seeing Fang Yong riding his bicycle toward them at his unhurried pace. Although rumors circulated that Fang Yong was upright and difficult to approach, facing such a large piece of cake as the Eastern New City, Zhou Rong still wanted to give it a try.

As for how to make contact with Fang Yong, Zhou Rong had racked his brains thinking hard for a long time. He had asked many people to discreetly inquire about the situation, and all reported that Fang Yong was upright—not only condemning corrupt officials with his words, but also leading by example. Many companies had previously tried to establish connections with Fang Yong, all ending in failure. One could imagine that if Fang Yong were to pass away someday, the organization would evaluate him as a noble person, a person who had risen above vulgar interests, a proletarian warrior who devoted himself wholeheartedly to serving the people. The saying goes that those without desires are strong—Fang Yong was practically an official without any weaknesses.

Zhou Rong refused to give up. He believed that anyone, being human, must have weaknesses, and Fang Yong surely had his vulnerable spots too—they just hadn’t been discovered yet.

During his investigation, one point caught Zhou Rong’s interest.

Fang Yong was a recognized man of culture. To be precise, he was a poet!

He was the chairman of the San Jiang Kou Writers’ Association, vice chairman of the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles. He occasionally published poetry, had released one or two poetry collections that were never seen on the market but received universal praise from everyone around him, and had even been selected as a candidate for the Lu Xun Literature Prize. It was said that he also enjoyed studying history and had spent some time with archaeological teams in his youth.

To deal with cultured people, one must use cultured methods. But how should he make contact with him?

Supposedly, Fang Yong was very averse to businessmen coming to his office to discuss matters with him, and visiting his home would be even more abrupt. Usually, when wanting to get acquainted with an official, one relied on friends for introductions and arranged to meet for tea or meals. However, Mayor Luo said Fang Yong wouldn’t come out for social engagements. Zhou Rong had asked several friends in the government with considerable rank to extend invitations, and indeed all were politely declined.

After much deliberation, Zhou Rong decided to wait for his opportunity along Fang Yong’s route to work, like waiting by a tree stump for a rabbit.

At this moment, seeing Fang Yong’s bicycle approaching, Zhou Rong opened the car door and got out with perfect timing. Putting on a face full of smiles, he stood before Fang Yong and called out warmly, “Teacher Fang!”

“You are?” Fang Yong dismounted from his bicycle, glanced at Zhou Rong and the accompanying Hu Jianren, then swept his eyes over their vehicle.

“Teacher Fang, I’m Zhou Rong from Rongcheng Real Estate. Mayor Luo mentioned me to you.” Zhou Rong ingratiatingly stepped forward, extending his hand for a handshake.

For Mayor Luo Ziyue’s sake, Fang Yong politely reached out to shake hands with him, then shook his hand as if Zhou had an infectious disease, asking with a face full of vigilance, “What do you want?”

“It’s like this. I recently acquired a piece of calligraphy by Master Yu Youren from the Republican era. I’ve heard you’re an authority in this area, so I wanted to find you to authenticate it and see whether the calligraphy is genuine or fake. I initially wanted to come find you in person, but was afraid it might create a bad impression. I inquired and learned you live in this area and generally return home for a midday nap, so I thought I’d try my luck waiting here. And look, I actually caught you!”

“Yu Youren’s calligraphy?” Fang Yong’s eyes lit up, clearly showing curiosity. He couldn’t help but ask, “Where is the calligraphy? Let me see it.”

“In the trunk.” Zhou Rong led him over. Fang Yong parked his bicycle properly and hurriedly walked to the trunk. Upon opening it, he saw a large mounted calligraphy piece, carefully cushioned underneath with foam board. The entire piece integrated cursive and regular script into one, beautiful and elegant.

Fang Yong excitedly leaned in to examine it closely. After just a few seconds, his face grew cold. He shook his head, turned around, and spat out two words: “It’s fake.”

Zhou Rong laughed heartily, rubbing his own head with deep emotion. “An expert is truly an expert—there’s no comparison. It seems I’ve been fooled again. Teacher Fang, since the calligraphy is fake and worthless, why don’t you take it back and hang it on your wall to look at?”

Fang Yong glared at him. “This calligraphy is fake—why would I take it home and hang it up? Wouldn’t people laugh at me for being mentally ill?”

Zhou Rong stared at Fang Yong’s expression for a few seconds and asked in surprise, “Is this calligraphy really fake?”

“Obviously fake! The form doesn’t even resemble it, let alone the spirit. To hang Master Yu’s name on this kind of calligraphy—it’s fake beyond measure. Tell me, where did you get such obviously fake calligraphy?”

Zhou Rong swallowed hard and glared angrily at Hu Jianren. This wasn’t the time to mention spending five hundred thousand yuan on calligraphy that was fake beyond measure, so he could only hurriedly explain to Fang Yong that he didn’t understand calligraphy and painting, which is why he was deceived. He had bought an expensive lesson and hoped to learn more about this knowledge from Teacher Fang.

Fang Yong looked Zhou Rong up and down coldly, having already seen through his thoughts. He asked, “Boss Zhou, you waited for me halfway just to ask about the authenticity of this painting?”

Zhou Rong thought for a second, knowing the other party was a smart man, and could only confess honestly, “Well… actually I also wanted to take the opportunity to consult Teacher Fang about some policy issues regarding the Eastern New City.”

Fang Yong shook his head. “I really hate you businessmen who think you’re so clever, playing all sorts of tricks. Let me tell you, in front of me, don’t beat around the bush!”

Even though Zhou Rong had met many high-ranking leaders, he had never encountered someone so merciless. For a moment he was at a loss, and could only explain, “Teacher Fang, you’re absolutely right. I just wanted to find an opportunity to meet you, but could never find the right moment. I heard you have considerable expertise in calligraphy, painting, and antiques, and I’m also very interested in these things. This time I sincerely want to learn from you, teacher.”

“Are you truly interested in these things?” Fang Yong’s gaze shifted slightly.

Zhou Rong straightened his body and said seriously, “Very, very interested!”

Fang Yong stared at Zhou Rong, silent and wordless, as if constantly thinking and struggling with something. After a long while, he said, “Then come to my home to talk.”

Inside the “Hai Rui’s” home lay hidden wonders. Boss Zhou heard the subtext in Teacher Fang’s words and immediately agreed repeatedly. However, in his heart he drew a conclusion: “This is a poet without a soul.”