No one knew what Pan San and Zhou Guobin discussed.
But after Pan San’s appearance, Zhou Guobin seemed more confident, telling Xia Xiaolan to “wait patiently.”
“Zhou Cheng will be fine. Pan Bohua hasn’t engaged in smuggling within China’s borders.”
Something seemed off about that statement – did it imply he was involved in smuggling overseas?
Zhou Guobin certainly disliked law-breakers; his position determined that. Yet from his tone, he didn’t seem to particularly dislike Brother Pan San.
Or perhaps Zhou Guobin was just too sophisticated, and Xia Xiaolan couldn’t discern his true feelings.
Xia Xiaolan used to think she was quite clever. When she first experienced rebirth, she had been quite pleased with herself – being both intelligent and prescient, shouldn’t she easily outmaneuver everyone else in the 1980s?
Then the incident with Ding Aizhen taught her a lesson.
The bone fracture in her right hand before the college entrance exam was another.
The third lesson came when she visited Zhou Cheng’s work unit.
Xia Xiaolan understood she lacked certain qualities, and this had nothing to do with rebirth. She had never interacted with people of Zhou Guobin and Tang Hong’en’s caliber in her previous life. While she was good at business, she indeed needed to learn from such people in other aspects!
Rebirth wasn’t omnipotent – Xia Xiaolan didn’t understand this at first, but now she did. A person’s nature remained unchanged; rebirth merely provided another chance, not invincibility. Success comes from continuous learning and accumulated efforts.
Since Zhou Guobin didn’t elaborate, Xia Xiaolan didn’t ask.
Pan San arrived in Beijing quietly and left just as quietly, neither timid nor flashy. Wearing his army-green padded jacket, he looked no different from ordinary men on the street. Who would have guessed he was a powerful figure who had withdrawn from the organization?
Zhou Cheng’s situation would surely be resolved now.
The Military Academy’s secrecy was impressive – they simply said no visits were allowed, without mentioning that Zhou Cheng’s batch of new students wasn’t even at the academy. If Zhou Guobin hadn’t told her, Xia Xiaolan would have been completely in the dark, not even knowing where to inquire about Zhou Cheng’s whereabouts. This was what family members had to face.
Meeting only a few times a year, and during confidential missions, not even knowing where their loved ones were!
Xia Xiaolan couldn’t have guessed that this batch of students studying at the Military Academy would be deployed to deal with smugglers.
It defied common sense – based on Xia Xiaolan’s limited knowledge, coastal regions relied on the Navy and Customs to combat smuggling. Since when did Military Academy students get deployed for anti-smuggling operations?
Xia Xiaolan had no say in the matter; the higher-ups must have their reasons.
She remembered a shocking smuggling case in Fujian Province in the late 1990s – not only was the amount involved enormous, but it implicated many locals, and the main perpetrator evaded capture for over a decade before being extradited to China for trial… Perhaps this major case already had early signs, and uninvolved parties like the Military Academy could operate more freely.
Xia Xiaolan didn’t dwell on things she couldn’t understand. Sending Kang Wei to find Pan San was to ensure Zhou Cheng’s safety.
As Zhou Guobin said, all they could do now was wait.
Though Xia Xiaolan worried about Zhou Cheng, she couldn’t help him with this, just as he couldn’t write her homework or take her English competition. Even when he worried about her staying up late studying, he couldn’t complete her academic work for her.
While concerned about Zhou Cheng, Xia Xiaolan still had to focus on the English competition and final exams.
Finding Grandmother Yu’s family now depended entirely on the English competition results.
What started as a casual participation became increasingly serious as it progressed.
…
Beijing in 1985 was much as Du Zhiaohui had imagined.
It wasn’t shabby, but the city’s atmosphere was rather serious. In terms of orderliness, it certainly appeared more magnificent than Pengcheng, which was still under construction. In Hong Kong, Central was crowded with people, and parking spots were hard to find. But in Beijing, Chang’an Street was 120 meters at its widest and 60 meters at its narrowest, while Hong Kong rarely had even six lanes, usually just two.
Tall buildings, narrow streets – Du Zhiaohui finally understood what had bothered him before: it felt confining.
Cramped, not open, and bright.
That’s why the wealthy moved to the Peak – despite the expensive hillside villas, only living in such places could lift one’s spirits.
Hong Kong was still limited by its small total area.
Of course, regarding the modern metropolitan feel with towering buildings, Beijing in 1985 couldn’t compare to Hong Kong.
China’s economy had stagnated for many years, and even after several years of Reform and Opening Up, it hadn’t fully recovered.
Du Zhiaohui’s advantage over George was knowing he was a Chinese person with black hair and yellow skin. The Joint Declaration had been signed; Hong Kong would eventually return to China.
Du Zhiaohui still wanted to make money on the mainland. He wasn’t looking down on Beijing – the less developed a place was, the more opportunities there were to make money. Sitting in the car, he kept observing the city’s conditions.
The car was rented.
Of course, one could rent cars in 1985.
Even from liberation until the 1970s, Beijing had “taxis,” mainly Fords and Warsaw 20s, with dedicated stops in the city center. They could be called by phone or in person – quite convenient… except the fare of 0.25 yuan per kilometer was unaffordable for ordinary citizens before Reform and Opening Up.
These taxis mainly served government organs and institutions.
Now the Ford and Warsaw models were outdated; the Crown and Audi 100 were more prestigious. If money wasn’t an issue, even Mercedes could be rented.
Young Master Du certainly didn’t lack money, and he’d hired a guide to explain Beijing’s situation.
As a Hong Kong businessman investing hundreds of millions in Pengcheng, the guide found through Pengcheng’s Beijing office was very professional – fluent in Cantonese, Mandarin, and English. Such people would be valued anywhere, and Du Zhiaohui didn’t dislike him.
Du Zhiaohui wanted to go to Huaqing University, and the guide eloquently explained:
“Huaqing University was established in 1911, originally as Huaqing Academy…”
The guide went on at length, though not tediously, confirming Du Zhiaohui’s impression that it was indeed one of China’s top universities.
China’s college admission rate was intimidating. While listening to the guide’s praise, Du Zhiaohui was thinking of other matters. If Xia Dajun hadn’t saved him twice, he wouldn’t personally come looking for his daughter.
He was just curious how someone with Xia Dajun’s intelligence level could have a daughter who got into Huaqing University.
Beyond that, he had no expectations.
He also hoped Xia Dajun’s daughter wouldn’t misunderstand – a wealthy Hong Kong young master suddenly appearing wasn’t because he was interested in her. Du Zhiaohui believed he was quite popular with women, but whether they liked him for his money or himself – Who Cares?!
“We’d better approach through the school. You might not know, but students are very wary of such situations…”
The guide tried to explain the domestic situation in simple terms.
The school’s management was strict, and students were very rule-abiding. If a Hong Kong person suddenly appeared saying “Come back to Hong Kong with me to see your father,” Young Master Du would not be greeted by an excited female student but by the police station’s officers!
In the distance, Huaqing’s main gate came into view. Du Zhiaohui agreed with the guide’s suggestion: “Then let’s go through the school… Wait, what did you just say about Huaqing University being powerful in China?”
Meeting a bodyguard’s daughter wasn’t that important – following the principle of not leaving empty-handed, Du Zhiaohui thought he could make his presence felt in Beijing. The richest man doing charity work to gain government goodwill should work, right?