Chapter 101: What to Say, and What Not to Say

Yang Dong paced back and forth in the courtyard of the Municipal Party Committee, hands clasped behind his back.

He couldn’t stay outside much longer—the biting cold of nearly ten degrees below zero was unbearable at this late hour.

Gradually, he heard the steady footsteps and murmurs coming from the office building of the Municipal Party Committee.

Peeking toward the entrance, he saw the committee leaders beginning to emerge.

Yang Dong stepped aside to make way.

Wu Xinkai hurriedly exited the building and headed straight for his official car.

He did not notice Yang Dong, who remained hidden in the shadows.

However, Wu Xinkai’s secretary, Wang Shun, with his sharp eyes, immediately spotted Yang Dong standing quietly in the corner.

Wang Shun quickly approached, opened the car door for Wu Xinkai, then leaned in to whisper a few words in his ear.

Wu Xinkai glanced sideways toward Yang Dong, his face stern, but he said nothing.

Soon after, Secretary Wu’s official car, license plate G00001, drove away from the Municipal Party Committee compound.

One car after another of committee leaders followed in convoy as they departed.

“Yang Dong, be mindful of what you say and what you don’t. Don’t violate the disciplinary commission’s regulations,” Guan Mushan warned as he saw Yang Dong standing in the corner. He approached and gave a word of caution before getting into his car and leaving.

Yang Dong was certain that Secretary Guan had grasped the subtext of Tan Long’s earlier remarks, which was why he issued the advice at this moment.

It was only natural.

If Yang Dong himself could pick up on it, then Guan Mushan, Secretary of the Municipal Discipline Inspection Commission and a former secretary to top leaders, certainly could not fail to understand.

Yang Dong fixed his gaze on the Municipal Party Committee building; all the senior standing committee members had come out.

So the County Party Secretary of Kaiyang County, Tan Long, would arrive soon.

Sure enough, after Tang Hongyun, the Minister of Propaganda, stepped out, Tan Long followed closely behind.

This county secretary in his forties walked with brisk steps.

“Comrade Yang Dong, still here so late?” Tan Long’s attention had been on Yang Dong from the moment he exited the building; he was heading straight toward him.

Yet his question left Yang Dong a bit helpless.

Wasn’t it you who told me to slow down and wait for you?

Of course, such words could not be said aloud.

“Secretary Tan, may I catch a ride with you?” Yang Dong, unable to think of another excuse, said it plainly.

In truth, the reason didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Yang Dong himself had to be the one to ask.

“Little Yang, you’re the pride of our county. Get in,” Tan Long smiled and nodded, then walked toward his official car.

Yang Dong then noticed that Tan Long’s car bore a regular license plate, not the committee’s special plate.

By rights, given Tan Long’s rank on the standing committee, he should have been assigned the tenth official car.

But such matters were for the leaders to handle, and had nothing to do with him.

Tan Long’s secretary had already stepped out of the car and opened the rear door for him.

“This is my secretary, Song Sifeng,” Tan Long introduced.

“Sifeng, this is Yang Dong, a comrade from the Municipal Discipline Inspection Commission and the top scorer in the county’s college entrance exams eight years ago.”

Tan Long introduced his secretary to Yang Dong.

Though Yang Dong didn’t know the deeper meaning behind this, he still extended his hand toward the secretary, who was the chief aide to the standing committee member and county party secretary.

“Director Song, pleased to meet you.”

Calling him “big brother” was too informal, “secretary” too commonplace, so “director” was the safest, all-purpose title.

If one didn’t know the other’s official position, “director” was a versatile honorific.

“Team Leader Yang, I know you,” Song Sifeng said unexpectedly after shaking Yang Dong’s hand.

Yang Dong wondered if he really was that well-known.

“Get in the car and chat later,” Tan Long said from the back seat, urging them on.

“Yes, Secretary,” Song Sifeng replied with a serious expression, then moved to the front passenger seat.

Yang Dong hesitated—was he supposed to sit with Tan Long in the back?

“Don’t stand there like a statue. There’s no big protocol in riding together. Get in!” Tan Long laughed knowingly and beckoned him over.

Seeing this, Yang Dong didn’t waste time or manners, pulled open the door, and took a seat at the other end of the back row.

Still, he left a respectful distance from Tan Long, sitting by the door.

“Team Leader Yang, where are you headed?” Song Sifeng asked from the front passenger seat.

“Director Song, just to the Municipal People’s Hospital,” Yang Dong answered.

Song Sifeng nodded and glanced at the driver.

The car started moving slowly toward the hospital.

“Sifeng, you were born in ’78 or ’79, right?” Tan Long asked, sensing the quiet atmosphere inside.

“Yes, Secretary. I was born in June 1978,” Song Sifeng responded immediately.

“Little Yang, how old are you?” Tan Long asked with a friendly smile.

“I was born in February 1982, Secretary Tan,” Yang Dong replied promptly.

“Sifeng is four years older than you, but she looks at least ten years more mature,” Tan Long commented with a smile, making light of their ages and bearing.

In short, he avoided discussing the Gu Santong case.

If you don’t bring it up, neither will I.

Pushing the matter is no business.

Yang Dong responded modestly, “Secretary Tan, I’ve only been working a few years. There’s much for me to learn from Director Song.”

“You’re too polite, Team Leader Yang. Your achievements with the municipal discipline commission investigation team are known even to me, the secretary of Kaiyang County,” Song Sifeng quickly praised.

The two exchanged compliments, engaging in what modern parlance would call mutual flattery.

The car drove on, and soon they arrived at the Municipal People’s Hospital.

The driver stopped at the hospital entrance.

At this moment, Tan Long’s face turned serious.

“Little Yang, how complicated is the Gu Santong case?”

He didn’t ask directly what he really wanted to know, but he trusted Yang Dong understood.

“Secretary Tan, the Gu Santong case involves massive embezzlement and extreme corruption, naturally causing severe negative impact.”

“As a member of the municipal standing committee, you surely have your own views on this case.”

“I’m just a team leader in the municipal discipline inspection investigation group. I have the authority to investigate, but not to handle or decide,” Yang Dong replied.

“Thank you for escorting me to the hospital, Secretary Tan. I’m very grateful.”

“It’s late. You should rest early when you return,” Tan Long said.

“Director Song, I’ll get off here,” Yang Dong said, greeting Tan Long and Song Sifeng before pushing the door open and stepping out.

“Team Leader Yang, here’s my business card. Call me if you need anything!” Song Sifeng rolled down the window and handed over his card.

Yang Dong’s mind raced as he took the card.

Tan Long’s official car then drove off, the taillights fading into the darkness.

The card bore no title or introduction—just the name Song Sifeng and a mobile number.

In Kaiyang County, no one likely failed to recognize Song Sifeng.

After all, as the county party secretary’s chief aide, though the county leadership’s official aide was technically called a liaison officer, no one actually used that title; everyone simply said “secretary.”

Yang Dong slipped the card into his pocket and turned toward the hospital’s inpatient building.

Inside the car, Song Sifeng frowned and leaned toward the back seat to speak to Tan Long.

“Secretary, Yang Dong didn’t say anything.”

“No, he’s said more than enough,” Tan Long replied, eyes narrowed as he shook his head.

Song Sifeng was startled, then frowned, replaying Yang Dong’s words in his mind, still not seeing what was excessive.

“Sifeng, some things don’t need to be said aloud, nor made explicit.”

Tan Long thought his secretary still needed more training.

His skill in discerning meaning by tone was still lacking.

“Kaiyang County needs a thorough cleanup,” Tan Long said seriously.

The Gu Santong case was deeply damaging and thoroughly corrupt.

How could it not be connected to the county?

As the city’s top-ranking county for economic development, Kaiyang County was undoubtedly a hotbed of corruption.