Chapter 241

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

Section Chief Hui, now 52 years old, still had considerable experience in officialdom. He had invented and learned the Telephone Time Analysis Method himself, and it had proven useful more than once.

At times, without the other party revealing their identity or background, simply judging by the time the phone rang, he could tell how deep the other party's background was. With such targeted precision, he might not remain completely unstained, but at least he wouldn't collapse directly like those dark-hearted, ruthless colleagues who never learned to summarize.

In just 30 seconds of speaking, perhaps a person's fate could be changed. Perhaps the first sentence spoken would determine the severity of the punishment.

"Indeed a mistake" belonged to those with deep backgrounds who called within 5 minutes; "Excuse me" belonged to those with indirect deep backgrounds who called within 10 minutes; "We'll check right away" belonged to the amateurs within 20 minutes; "I'm not very clear" belonged to the idle wanderers within 30 minutes; anything slower, and Section Chief Hui would usually have to ask, "How could such a thing happen!"

After 30 years as a minor official, he calculated that fully 10 years had been spent as a so-called youngster pouring tea and water for others, and another 10 years squatting on the boss's stool. He had finally crossed the thresholds of deputy section and full section, using all his wits to become a section chief with real power. Section Chief Hui felt mentally exhausted. Working so hard for the Party, the country, and the people, not making a little money to supplement his empty spirit—truly, it was too sorry for a Party member who had devoted a lifetime to the motherland and the people.

In his plan, over the next 8 years, if he struggled well, advancing further wasn't too much to hope for; even if not, holding onto his current section with a steady flow of wealth was good. Anyway, everyone did it this way; he couldn't be considered outstanding.

But this one ringtone woke him up.

The Director's office ringtone—too coincidental.

If he really had made a mistake, and those people had great power, what if they went straight to the Director?

Old Hui really hadn't thought carefully about this matter. The Director was a very busy person, a genuine Positive Division-Level Cadre with a bright and far-reaching future, and he certainly wouldn't be soft when taking money. It should be fine, right...

He glanced sideways at Section Chief Pi, saw he was still panting heavily, and decided not to voice the guess he had just made. But he secretly resolved that after today's matter passed, he would re-study and supplement the theory of "Telephone Time Analysis."

"Learning exists everywhere in the world; not studying deeply won't do. One must be cautious in doing things. If this time it were changed to 75% platinum, it would definitely be fine. A difference of half all at once—the changes in size and shape—are indeed hard to control." Section Chief Hui complained somewhat about the small factory doing the work. A batch of mixed copper had just arrived, and it really was too coincidental!

Section Chief Hui stared at the frosted glass outside his office desk and couldn't help muttering to himself in a low voice. Old Pi heard the first sentence and asked, "Researching what?"

"Oh, researching... I was just thinking, this precious metal appraisal is thankless hard work. Look at those bastards in Section One next door—how much money they make appraising antiques, even using high-fake materials. It's just not right."

"Antiques are rare after all; they open for business once every three years. Your precious metal appraisal—just the appraisal slip fees of 3 yuan collected from gold shops is already quite a lot." Old Pi also joked in a forced relaxed manner, but his stomach still cramped in waves, as if he had eaten how many crabs. He was naturally timid, but there was no choice; this was the atmosphere in the office. If he didn't even dare take money delivered right under his butt, he might as well quit. And money—this thing really doesn't bite the hand.

It just bites the stomach.

Old Pi took out two pills from his pocket and swallowed them dry.

Section Chief Hui was busy looking outside and didn't even bother to pour him a cup of water. He just listened to his words and said with a laugh: "The appraisal slip money belongs to the state, but what's exchanged from antiques is one's own. Now a piece of Ming porcelain costs over ten thousand, while high-fakes are only 500."

He was also nervous in his heart, and taking the opportunity, he blurted out what he had wanted to say for a long time: "With your little ambition, jewelry appraisal is the big money-maker of our office. If you just let a little slip through your fingers, how many gold bars would come out?"

Section Two was responsible for jewelry appraisal—jade, diamonds, rubies, whatever was valuable, they did it. He had been eyeing it for a long time.

Old Pi knew too, but laughed: "That's the Director's; I won't touch it." Although the office operated on a key responsibility system, he was timid when encountering matters; put another way, he knew where to draw the line. The Director had come from Section Two, so regarding internal affairs, he requested instructions on everything big or small. Thus he became a confidant of the Director, and with his liking for taking money without risk, whenever the various sections made money, they liked to give him a share. Over time, he also became a different kind of small-time rich man.

"You, you." Old Hui's eyes were fixed on the shadow of the Director's office; as he saw him nod, his own fingers tapped back and forth.

Just as he was calculating, the Director hung up the phone, and Section Chief Hui immediately sat up straight, as if in a meeting.

"What happened?"

"Don't make noise." Old Hui was listening to the sounds outside.

The Director came out from inside the door, his voice quite loud.

Old Pi shrank his neck, waiting for the "bang" of a slammed door or a closed door.

None.

"Didn't close the door?" A trace of unease rose in Section Chief Hui's heart. This was not a good omen.

The Director's sharp-toed leather shoes walked toward the north corridor, clack clack clack like high heels. When he put on shoes, he liked to nail an iron nail on the back, especially the right foot, which always wore out especially fast. Since everyone discovered this hobby of his, the girls in the office no longer wore high heels, for fear of causing colleagues to misjudge. Of course, this little trick, the Director wouldn't know, nor would he deign to know. So he bought a cabinet full of low-heel leather shoes, each fitted with heel nails.

"Coming from the north side..." Section Chief Hui touched his head, hurriedly tidied up the things on the desk, hid what should be hidden, and thought: "Maybe the poor ghosts from Section Four ruined several foreign crafts again?"

The footsteps drew closer and closer.

"Forward, forward, forward and it's past." Old Hui muttered aloud as he muttered, but Old Pi wasn't stupid; his face turned white in an instant.

Three "bang bang bang" sounds, clean and neat but not soft. Section Chief Hui's legs went soft, he stumbled forward and pushed the door open. Without even looking at the person, he smiled uglier than crying: "Director, why did you come? If there's something, just call me."

"Now it's others calling me." The Director was around 40 years old, the son-in-law of the Director of the Cultural Hall. He chose the wrong major in a clean government department and finally ran to the Appraisal Office. He was a bit like Old Pi; although this man was not at all soft when making money, he was never willing to take responsibility. The difference was that Old Pi, after taking money, was forced by others to take responsibility, while the Director forced others to take responsibility...

He still had a future to pursue; how could he take responsibility for this little official?

The three faced each other with six eyes, like monsters in Journey to the West. They had done the same thing before; back then they were plotting how to divide the Tang Monk Meat, or swallow it alone. Now things had changed; the problem was how to make the Tang Monk Meat go from cooked to raw.

Still, the Director spoke first. He looked at his watch and said: "I'll give you 1 minute. Speak, what's going on?"

He hadn't seen the course of events but could guess eight or nine out of ten, yet he still wanted Old Hui to say it himself.

After a long while, he finally chose the vocabulary matching five minutes: "Indeed a mistake."

"Can it be adjusted back?"

"The deposit slip is in our hands; they have no photos. Xiao Gao handled it."

The Director just grunted, pursed his lips, and said: "Settle it."

Seeing he was about to run off as usual, how could Old Hui let him go? He stopped him and asked: "Director, who called?"

Don't know what kind of godly person; how can one be targeted?

"Someone from the city."

Section Chief Hui and Section Chief Pi both sighed in relief. The Appraisal Office was a dispatched institution of the province and had no direct subordination to Jiangning City.

However, Old Hui suddenly smelled something was off. The Director always wished he could turn bricks into iron mallets and smash them on a group of section supervisors. Why was he so kind-hearted and reducing pressure today?

He held his breath and asked again: "Director, who from the city?"

"Are you annoying or not." The Director was unhappy and said: "Not a big deal. Wipe your butt clean, straighten your attitude, and settle it yourself."

Section Chief Hui felt even more uneasy and had anger in his heart: Don't say I hit you a round; even when you took my 5000 yuan gift money, you didn't send me a note. He endured and said: "Even if I go out to apologize, I should know which god I offended, right?"

The Director said nothing, opened the door, and left. He wasn't unwilling to say; he really didn't know. That phone call was also passed down from above. It was like dog blood poured over the head, mixed with a pair of trousers full of feces covering the head and face, but the smell didn't change much.

He was now also anxious to go find reinforcements from his cheap father-in-law. Heaven knows which Immortal Passing By passed by where.

The Appraisal Office had weak mobility. The Director had accumulated prestige for years; who dared block him on the road to cry injustice? Old Hui blinked, and saw him, like a turtle running faster than a rabbit, slip away with a "huala" sound.

"Immortal board board's turtle grandson oil." Section Chief Hui didn't know why, remembered that phrase his university classmate loved to curse, sighed, and bitterly smiled at Old Pi: "It's our turn to be turtle grandsons."

"This is your section's business, so I'll head back first." Old Pi was timid and had few resources, relying entirely on his thick skin to hold himself up, and he left in a puff of smoke.

By the time Old Hui, who thought himself clever, reacted, he was the only one left in the office.

"These grandsons. Natural platinum is a gemstone, damn it, it's your Section Two's business." He angrily punched the lucky bamboo in front of him, took out the receipts confiscated into state ownership from the drawer, wanted to burn them with a lighter, but worried something might change, so he nervously hid them under the flower pot, then straightened his clothing and walked out of the office.

Using a precious 20 seconds to check himself clearly in the mirror, Section Chief Hui solemnly walked out the door, smiling and saying, "How should I address the two of you? I am the Section Chief of Appraisal Section Three, my surname is Hui."

His posture could be said to be very low, but Chen Yi kept his head down, as if he hadn't heard anything at all. The effect of his Listening Scroll hadn't disappeared yet; the faint sounds and conversations inside could be heard whenever he wanted to hear them. He had to admit that this habitual embezzlement and corruption, swapping appraisal items, truly exceeded his understanding.

But it really happened just like that.

"Jiangning's political circle is a mess." Chen Yi whistled softly and said, "What about my own things?"

"This..." Since he didn't give his name or surname, Section Chief Hui had some misgivings about whether he should hand over the evidence. Once it was handed over, it would confirm his own violations of discipline and law.

Of course, violations of discipline could be endured, but violations of law should not be; if Chen Yi gave him a promise now, Section Chief Hui would probably be glad to simply resolve this matter.

But from Chen Yi's perspective, why should he give a promise?

... (Unfinished, if you want to know what happens next, please log in to www. qidian. com, more chapters, support author, support genuine reading!)