Chapter Forty-Four: The First Secretary of the Provincial Party Committee

“Impressive?” The sharp young man evidently did not understand the meaning of the word.

Jiang Xiwen shook his head and replied, “This word is quite profound. Even if I explained it, you wouldn’t get it.” With a grand air, he strode over to the car. “Aren’t you going to open the door for me?”

The driver frowned slightly, wanting to say something, but swallowed his words and opened the rear door for Jiang Xiwen. Only after Jiang Xiwen got in did he return to the driver’s seat.

Such an arrogant kid—how does Old Zhang put up with him? The sharp young man complained inwardly as he drove.

“Hey, brother, don’t grumble. When you reach my position someday, you’ll understand what it feels like to be sought after. Hang in there.” Jiang Xiwen laughed heartily.

“You—”

“What ‘you’? I can tell from your eyes you’ve got grievances. If you can’t hide your thoughts, here’s a tip: wear sunglasses when you go out.”

No point arguing with you. The sharp young man stayed silent, focusing on driving. The ride was indeed smooth and steady; he was truly a good driver. Jiang Xiwen thought to himself, “Let everyone make the best of their talents.”

Soon enough, the Red Flag car entered the municipal government compound. The guard at the gate saluted, giving Jiang Xiwen a sense of satisfaction. He thought his judgment was correct—judging by the license plate and the display, Old Man Zhang’s position before retirement was likely much higher than his son Zhang Yong’s.

A minute later, the car stopped at a parking lot not far from Courtyard No. 7. The sharp young man suppressed his temper, politely opened the door for Jiang Xiwen, and led him to the entrance of No. 7.

Just then, an elderly man came out from the courtyard. The guard immediately saluted and said, “Good afternoon, Deputy Governor Zhou.”

The old man shook his head slightly and replied, “I’ve been retired for nearly ten years now. Besides, I held office in another province, and was only a deputy governor. Just call me Old Zhou, kid.”

“Yes, Old Zhou.”

Indeed, it seemed that Courtyard No. 7 was no ordinary place—it housed high-ranking provincial officials who had returned home after retirement. His father’s gossiping skills clearly weren’t up to par; he'd assumed only municipal leaders lived here.

Thinking this, Jiang Xiwen walked up to the door of Zhang Ya’s family home.

This time, only Old Man Zhang was inside. When he saw Jiang Xiwen, he nodded and said, “You’re here…”

Damn, he invites me here and still puts on an official air. Jiang Xiwen was annoyed, and the consequences could be serious. He snorted lightly and said, “Sorry, wrong door.” With that, he turned to leave.

The old man became anxious, finally rising and saying, “Don’t you want to know why I called you here?”

“What else could it be? Liu Dashan, of course.” Jiang Xiwen got straight to the point.

Old Man Zhang was startled, his expression shifting slightly. He hadn’t expected this boy to be so sharp, which only confirmed his own suspicions—Jiang Xiwen must know something. He’d always felt there was more to his granddaughter’s kidnapping, but his son kept it from him, making him, a lifelong upright official, wonder if his son was hiding something.

“Well done, kid!” The old man stood up. “Come with me to the study.”

“What is it with you and your son, always heading to the study? Could it be that since you’ll never be Minister, you comfort yourselves this way?” Though Jiang Xiwen said this, he still followed the old man to another study upstairs.

The layout was similar to Zhang Yong’s study, but the room was larger, and the bookshelves were filled with well-thumbed volumes, unlike Zhang Yong’s shelves lined with decorative hardbacks.

Jiang Xiwen glanced around. Some books were on military theory, others on economic development and urban planning, and on the desk were several issues of “Yangjiang Communications,” edited by his father, Jiang Hong.

The old man pointed to the guest chair by the desk, his expression much less cold, replaced by a hint of appreciation.

Jiang Xiwen took the seat without ceremony, leaned back, and said, “This thing is pretty comfortable.”

“Young man, you’ve got guts. Much more genuine than the last guest, who was all empty formalities—I like that!” Old Man Zhang laughed.

Jiang Xiwen replied calmly, “You’re looking much more agreeable now too. Since we’re chatting, we’re all equals. Putting on airs—who’s that for? But I understand, leaders without the proper official bearing can hardly command respect.”

“Good kid, you’re the first to speak like this in front of me, Zhang Song. Reminds me of the boldness I had facing superiors when I was a soldier.” The old man’s words grew increasingly candid, far removed from the stiff demeanor he’d shown earlier.

Zhang Song? Jiang Xiwen was surprised. “You’re Zhang Song, the war hero?”

“Ha, what, don’t I look the part?” Old Man Zhang smiled. “Kids your age rarely know about me.”

“Now you look more like it than before,” Jiang Xiwen replied without missing a beat. “And I happen to be one of the rare few.”

Zhang Song had fought in the War of Resistance, the Civil War, and the Korean War. After retiring, he entered provincial government, serving as the first secretary of the provincial party committee. After stepping down in the early eighties, he rarely appeared in public.

Jiang Xiwen, much like those with a hero complex, had a deep admiration for soldiers. In elementary school, he’d read about Zhang Song’s deeds in “Yangjiang History,” and later asked his father about him, growing quite fond of this local military hero. He hadn’t expected Zhang Song to be the grandfather of his deskmate, Zhang Ya.

Old Man Zhang listened to Jiang Xiwen’s words and couldn’t help praising him again. “Haha, excellent! Only a kid like you would have the guts to rescue Xiao Ya single-handedly!”

Then he continued, “Let’s not waste time with pleasantries. I called you here to ask—what’s your take on the kidnapping?”

“Sir, as for the kidnapping, I know only as much as your granddaughter does. But I do doubt the claim that it was simply for money. As for Liu Dashan, I was just asking out of curiosity. I’m just a kid—I don’t have the ability to investigate anything. You’ll have to decide what to do.”