Between Fang Yong's home and the municipal government lay a stretch of empty road. Zhou Rong had his driver park his Mercedes-Benz by the roadside, where he and his secretary Hu Jianren waited in the car for a full half hour before Fang Yong leisurely pedaled into view on his bicycle. Despite rumors of Fang Yong's upright character and inaccessibility, Zhou Rong was determined to try his luck, given the enormous potential of the Eastern New City project.
Zhou Rong had racked his brains for a long time on how to approach Fang Yong. He had discreetly inquired about him from many sources, all of whom confirmed Fang Yong's integrity—not only did he vocally denounce corruption, but he also practiced what he preached. Numerous companies had previously attempted to establish connections with him, all to no avail. One could imagine that when Fang Yong eventually passed away, the Party would eulogize him as a noble man, free from vulgar interests, a proletarian warrior wholly devoted to serving the people. Truly, with no desires, one becomes invincible—Fang Yong seemed like an official without any weaknesses.
Zhou Rong refused to accept this. He believed that every person had their vulnerabilities, and Fang Yong must have his soft spot—it just hadn't been discovered yet.
During his investigations, one detail caught Zhou Rong's interest.
Fang Yong was widely recognized as a cultured man—more precisely, a poet!
He was the chairman of the Three Rivers Estuary Writers' Association and vice chairman of the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles. Occasionally, he published poetry and had released one or two collections that, though never seen on the market, were universally praised by those around him. He had even been nominated for the Lu Xun Literary Prize. It was said he also had a passion for history and had once traveled with an archaeological team in his youth.
To deal with a cultured man, one must use cultured methods. But how to approach him?
Rumor had it that Fang Yong disliked businessmen visiting his office to discuss matters, and showing up at his home would be even more abrupt. Normally, befriending an official relied on introductions from mutual acquaintances, followed by invitations to tea or meals. But Mayor Luo had warned that Fang Yong never attended such social gatherings. Zhou Rong had asked several high-ranking government friends to extend invitations, all of which were politely declined.
After much deliberation, Zhou Rong decided to lie in wait along Fang Yong's daily commute route.
Now, as Fang Yong's bicycle approached, Zhou Rong timed it perfectly—stepping out of the car with a broad smile, he positioned himself in Fang Yong's path and warmly called out, "Professor Fang!"
"Who are you?" Fang Yong dismounted his bicycle, glancing at Zhou Rong and the accompanying Hu Jianren before eyeing their luxury vehicle.
"Professor Fang, I'm Zhou Rong from Rongcheng Real Estate. Mayor Luo has mentioned me to you," Zhou Rong said ingratiatingly, stepping forward with an outstretched hand.
Out of courtesy to Luo Ziyue, Fang Yong shook his hand but then flicked his own as if fearing contamination, his expression guarded. "What do you want?"
"Well, I recently acquired a calligraphy piece by the master Yu Youren from the Republican era. I heard you're an authority on this subject and wanted to ask for your expertise in authenticating it. I considered visiting you directly but worried it might be inappropriate. After learning you live around here and usually return home for lunch, I thought I'd try my luck here. And sure enough, I found you!"
"Yu Youren's calligraphy?" Fang Yong's eyes lit up with unmistakable curiosity. "Where is it? Let me see.""In the trunk," Zhou Rong led him over. Fang Yong parked his bicycle and hurried to the trunk. Upon opening it, he saw a large, elegantly mounted calligraphy scroll, carefully cushioned with foam board beneath. The script blended cursive and regular styles seamlessly, presenting a harmonious and refined appearance.
Fang Yong leaned in excitedly to examine it, but within seconds, his expression cooled. Shaking his head, he turned away and uttered two words: "Fake."
Zhou Rong laughed heartily, rubbing his head with a mix of amusement and resignation. "An expert is an expert, after all—no comparison. Looks like I’ve been fooled again. Teacher Fang, since the calligraphy is fake and worthless, why don’t you take it back and hang it up for decoration?"
Fang Yong glared. "If it’s fake, why would I hang it up? People would think I’ve lost my mind!"
Zhou Rong studied Fang Yong’s expression for a few seconds, then asked in surprise, "It’s really fake?"
"Blatantly fake. The form isn’t even close, let alone the spirit. And to slap Master Yu’s name on this? It’s fake beyond belief. Where on earth did you get such a counterfeit?"
Zhou Rong swallowed hard and shot Hu Jianren an angry glare. Now wasn’t the time to mention the half a million he’d spent on this laughably fake piece. Flustered, he explained to Fang Yong that he knew nothing about calligraphy and had been swindled—a costly lesson. He hoped to learn more from Teacher Fang.
Fang Yong gave Zhou Rong a cold once-over, already sensing his ulterior motives. "Boss Zhou, you waited for me halfway just to ask about the authenticity of this piece?"
Zhou Rong hesitated for a second, realizing he was dealing with a sharp mind, and came clean. "Well... I was also hoping to consult you about some policies regarding the Eastern New City."
Fang Yong shook his head. "I really dislike you businessmen—always thinking you’re so clever with your schemes. Let me tell you, don’t beat around the bush with me!"
Despite having met many high-ranking officials, Zhou Rong had never encountered someone so blunt. At a loss, he could only explain, "You’re absolutely right, Teacher Fang. I just wanted an opportunity to get to know you but never found the right moment. I heard you’re well-versed in calligraphy and antiques, and I’m very interested in these fields myself. This time, I genuinely wanted to learn from you."
"You’re really interested in these things?" Fang Yong’s gaze shifted slightly.
Zhou Rong straightened up, adopting a serious tone. "Extremely interested!" Fang Yong stared at him in silence, as if wrestling with some internal conflict. After a long pause, he finally said, "Then let’s talk at my place."
Hai Rui’s home was unexpectedly extraordinary. Boss Zhou caught the underlying implication in Teacher Fang’s words and immediately agreed enthusiastically. But inwardly, he concluded: "This is a poet without a soul."
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