Chapter 291: The Reporters (Part 2)

Hui drove the Santana off the Yiyang exit of the Lingxi Expressway. He was in high spirits, remarking, "The Lingxi Expressway is built so well. Back in ’92, it took me seven days to travel from Lingxi to Yiyang. Now, it’s just an hour and a half."

Liu Ruixue, having crammed herself with background materials on Yiyang to prepare for this article, said, "Yiyang proposed its expressway strategy last year, leveraging the highway’s advantages to build a new city in the southern suburbs. Our interview should start with this expressway."

Wang Hui agreed with her assessment. He pulled the car over at the exit and instructed Liu Ruixue, "We’ll stay here for half an hour. You count the passing vehicles. Use circles for sedans, crosses for trucks, and triangles for buses."

He then turned to the third member of their team. "Du Chenglong, go to the Expressway Management Office for some random interviews and gather some data."

Du Chenglong took his press credentials and notebook and headed straight for the management office. Liu Ruixue focused intently on counting the traffic, while Wang Hui stepped out of the car to stretch his waist.

Not far from their Volkswagen Santana, another car was parked. Zhang Xiangyu, seeing the license plate and observing the age and appearance of the three individuals, was able to confirm their identities with reasonable certainty.

For a county-level city like Yiyang, the Lingxi Daily was a provincial newspaper—a high-and-mighty provincial propaganda institution. The fact that Hou Weidong had tracked the movements of the Lingxi Daily reporters so precisely earned Zhang Xiangyu a measure of respect.

Zhang Xiangyu made a phone call to report. "Director Hou, the reporters have arrived. There are three of them, and the license plate matches. One of the reporters has gone to the Expressway Management Office."

At that moment, Hou Weidong had already driven into Shazhou.

The previous night, on a sudden whim, he had flown to Shanghai to see Xiaojia. This experience left Hou Weidong feeling a sense of wonder. Throughout the journey, he had repeatedly pondered the bold assertion: "It’s not that you can’t do it; it’s that you can’t imagine it."

For a long time, Hou Weidong had felt that Yiyang and Shanghai were worlds apart. It was precisely this mindset that had kept him from making the trip to Shanghai, even though Xiaojia had been there for several months. Reflecting on the entire process, he realized a truth: Shanghai wasn’t actually that far away. The feeling of distance was merely a psychological habit, a mental shackle.

Having seen through this, Hou Weidong felt as if a window had opened in his mind, bringing clarity to many things. "Is the arrival of provincial reporters in Yiyang necessarily a bad thing? According to dialectics, good and bad can transform into one another. We can turn this crisis into an opportunity to promote the New Management Committee."

Therefore, when he received Zhang Xiangyu’s call, Hou Weidong’s attitude toward the reporters had already undergone a subtle shift. "How are the reception preparations coming along?"

Zhang Xiangyu replied, "Rest assured. Yesterday, I spoke with Old Su about forming a construction team. Since Old Su is a veteran village party secretary, having him lead the team and contract the civil engineering work means the Su family won’t cause any more trouble."

"The buses are painted with the Xiuyun Pharmaceutical Factory logo, and the construction of the resettlement housing is proceeding normally. Should we change our arrangements for the road?"

Hou Weidong cleared his thoughts and said, "Keep the road arrangements as they are; no changes. I’m heading back to the New Management Committee from the development zone direction right now. I will still hold the symposium with them. Even if they don’t come to the New Management Committee, we will proactively go to them."

At the expressway exit, half an hour passed. Liu Ruixue had filled her notebook with circles, crosses, and triangles. She reported to Wang Hui, "In half an hour, five buses passed, two of which were just passing through. There were six trucks and three sedans. On average, a vehicle passes the Yiyang station every two minutes."

Wang Hui had once counted cars at the exit of Wu Hai County. Based on his experience, he concluded, "Judging by the traffic volume at the Yiyang station, Yiyang County’s economic strength is stronger than that of Linjiang, Wu Hai, and other counties."

After the unmarked interview car entered the Yiyang urban area, Liu Ruixue observed the city closely. Because she often conducted interviews out of town, her clothing was not fashionable. She wore gray-white jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, her hair tied back in a ponytail with a simple hairpin, giving her a capable and干练 (capable/efficient) appearance. After driving through the city for a while, she commented, "Yiyang’s county town hasn’t changed much in five years. The streets are narrow, the houses are dilapidated, there’s a lot of garbage, and the renovation efforts are insufficient. It’s far behind several counties surrounding Lingxi Province."

Wang Hui said, "In many coastal areas, during the process of urban renovation, the old city involves demolition, which is a major headache. So, they have all chosen to build new urban districts. It seems Yiyang is adopting this method as well."

The signage system within Yiyang City was also imperfect. Wang Hui drove around in circles for a long time before finally reaching the southern suburbs. Liu Ruixue pointed to a prominent vertical billboard and said, "That’s the promotional poster for the New City Management Committee."

They parked beneath the large printed poster. Du Chenglong, who was also handling photography, used his camera to take a picture of the giant billboard.

Wang Hui looked up at it for a full ten minutes before turning to his two subordinates. "Based on the scale, the New City Management Committee of Yiyang will reach a size of six to seven square kilometers within five years. In other words, all the farmland within our sight will be occupied. While farmers worry about losing their land, the local government is thinking about using land occupation to seek development. This is a game of博弈 (game theory/strategic interaction). Therefore, in this interview, we shouldn’t just talk about Yiyang’s problems; we need to view this matter from the perspective of the entire province."

Beneath the promotional poster was a mud-and-gravel road. The ditches and shoulders were somewhat damaged, looking no better than rural tractor tracks. Du Chenglong took a long-distance shot: beneath the giant promotional poster lay a dusty country road. He came up with a title for this photo: "Ideals Start Here!"

Behind them, a Volkswagen Santana was parked in a farmhouse courtyard. Zhang Xiangyu stood in the yard, watching Wang Hui and his team linger beneath the poster. At that moment, Hou Weidong called again.

"I’m back in the office," Hou Weidong said. He had returned to Shazhou, left the Bluebird at Shazhou College, and taken a Mitsubishi car around the development zone back to the New Management Committee office. "Let the three of them look around slowly. We’ll stick to the plan we discussed earlier: let the three reporters be immersed in the vast ocean of people’s war. Then, I’ll make the final statement. That way, their impression will be deeper."

Leaving the poster, they drove less than two hundred meters and turned a corner, where they saw two large potholes on the road. Three villagers were placing flat stones into the holes.

The lead villager was Su Fuyuan, the son of Old Su, the party secretary of Su Village. He eyed the three reporters and said, "Wait a moment. Once the flat stones are laid, you can pass."

It was nearly twelve o’clock. Wang Hui had been driving continuously and was getting hungry. He sat in the driver’s seat, drank half a bottle of mineral water, and then got out of the car with Liu Ruixue.

As soon as they got out, a truck drove up. After stopping, the driver cursed as he got out, looked at the scene for a while, got back in, turned off the engine, and drove away.

Wang Hui opened a pack of Yunyan cigarettes and handed one to Su Fuyuan and the others. He stood aside, watching the three men work, and casually remarked, "So much farmland left to waste, with grass growing this deep. It’s truly a pity."

Su Fuyuan, knowing they were provincial reporters, deliberately said, "What’s there to pity about it being wasted? Farming requires paying agricultural taxes, retention and统筹 (pooling) fees, forestry and specialty taxes, pig fees, and buying pesticides and fertilizers. You work hard all year and don’t earn much."

"How many mu of land does your family have?"

"Land in the suburbs is tight. Each person has less than one mu. Now that the new city has requisitioned some, there’s even less."

"Once your land is requisitioned, how will you live?"

Su Fuyuan brushed the dirt off his hands, stood up, and said, "With this little land, we’ve been so poor we had no pants to wear. Half the village works outside."

Another young man said, "Everyone hopes the New Management Committee will finish requisitioning our land soon. Then we can switch to urban household registration. We can join the army or take exams for government jobs or factory recruitment."

Su Fuyuan mocked him, "With your little bit of education, you want to be a cadre? When the New Management Committee’s factories start operating, everyone will go work as laborers. That’s the real deal."

The shortest young man said, "I won’t work for others. With so many factories, doing a small business will be better than being a worker or a farmer."

These three villagers had been specially arranged by Secretary Su. Old Su was determined to form a construction team and was quite supportive of the New Management Committee’s work.

Liu Ruixue saw the three peasants stop to talk and urged them, "Masters, don’t just chat. Can you speed up?"

Su Fuyuan took a deep drag of his cigarette and said, "We’re not oxen. After working for hours, we need to catch our breath. If we hadn’t seen you coming through here, we would have gone back to eat long ago."

His words left Liu Ruixue speechless. She could only watch them work slowly. Meanwhile, the truck driver behind them had disappeared, and the sedan couldn’t turn around.

By the time the road was fixed, it was one o’clock.

After getting back in the car, Liu Ruixue said, "Director Wang, how can what these villagers said be so different from what was written in the CPPCC Newspaper?"

Wang Hui was also pondering these issues. He said, "It’s already late. Let’s go find the resettlement housing first and see the situation."

When they found the resettlement housing, they happened to see a large group of workers eating. Wang Hui secretly counted and found there were at least two hundred workers. Looking up at the several buildings, there were no signs of work stoppage.

A young man wearing a safety helmet walked over and asked, "Who are you looking for?"

Wang Hui took out his press credentials and said, "I’m a reporter from the provincial newspaper. I’d like to understand the situation."

The young man said, "Wait a moment. I’ll go report to General Manager Wang."