Official Career Storm
Chapter 662

Chapter 662: Chapter 662

The next day, at eleven in the morning.

Song Guanchao and Wu Qiangwei exited Yanjing International Airport and took a taxi to the hotel they had booked.

Entering the room, Song Guanchao sat down intending to take a rest when his phone rang.

Fu Ying: "What are you doing?"

"Just got to the hotel."

"Which hotel?"

"The Sheraton."

"The one in the East District?"

"Yes."

"What a coincidence, I’m here too."

"???"

"What room number are you in?"

"620."

Song Guanchao was baffled, is she really here?

For real?

Knock knock.

There was a knock on the door.

He opened the door and saw Fu Ying in long pants and a T-shirt standing outside, completely bewildering Song Guanchao.

"You’re really here?"

"Yes." Fu Ying came in and closed the door behind her.

She walked around the room and said, "It’s laid out just like my room."

Reaching the window, she spun around on her toes: "Where’s Secretary Wu?"

"Next door."

Song Guanchao collected his thoughts: "Did you come here alone?"

"Secretary Zhang is here too."

"Why are you in Yanjing?"

"For an interview with the Ministry of Propaganda."

Fu Ying clasped her hands behind her back, playfully cute as she walked up to him: "The corruption case involving Hou Wen involves a large amount of money, so the Ministry of Propaganda wants to know the details, and that’s why we came."

Song Guanchao realized: "When are you heading back?"

"Is this how you chat!" Fu Ying was a bit annoyed.

Song Guanchao laughed and moved closer.

Fu Ying looked down at her toes.

Song Guanchao gently put his arm around her waist: "What room are you in?"

Fu Ying pressed her cheek against him: "508."

Song Guanchao pinched her bottom: "I’ll come find you tonight."

"Okay." Fu Ying replied shyly, extricating herself from his arms: "I need to go now. Secretary Zhang is going to contact Secretary Wu for dinner later."

She tidied her hair, and before leaving, she whispered in his ear: "I’m in a risky period recently."

Leaving that phrase, she dashed away.

A dozen minutes later, Wu Qiangwei sent a message asking him to come downstairs.

When he reached downstairs, he saw Zhang Meilin and Fu Ying, and Song Guanchao expressed surprise: "Secretary Zhang, you’re here too?"

Wu Qiangwei nonchalantly glanced at him and then at Fu Ying, thinking to himself, haven’t they been in touch?

They randomly picked a nearby restaurant and had a quick meal.

Upon arriving in Yanjing, Zhang Meilin didn’t seem spirited but rather somewhat despondent.

Song Guanchao asked: "Brother Zhang, not in a good mood?"

Zhang Meilin shook his head, looking at the bustling modern urban scene, he said: "Just feels too small."

"It’s often said, you won’t realize you have little money until you get to Modu, and that you’re a small official until you get to Yanjing. There wasn’t this feeling coming to Yanjing in earlier years, but after becoming the head of the City Committee, there’s this sense of smallness."

Looking at the wide roads crowded with luxury cars, occasionally spotting some special license plates.

Like government departments, or even embassy cars.

Zhang Meilin sighed: "How big does an official have to get to be considered big?"

Song Guanchao chuckled, lit a cigarette, ignoring his musings.

Back at the hotel lobby, Wu Qiangwei said: "The interview is set for 3:30 in the afternoon, get some rest and gather in the lobby in half an hour."

Song Guanchao didn’t expect the schedule to be so tight.

He returned to his room, changed into a suit, and suddenly got a phone call.

Seeing the caller ID, Song Guanchao was quite surprised, it was journalist Lin Wanqiu.

"Hello, Miss Lin."

"At the hotel?"

"Yes."

It seemed she would be the one interviewing him soon, otherwise, she wouldn’t know about his schedule.

"Leaving tomorrow?"

"It depends on the leadership’s arrangements, but if everything goes smoothly, yes, tomorrow."

"Oh." Lin Wanqiu asked somewhat mysteriously.

A brief chat ensued before hanging up.

Half an hour later, they gathered in the lobby.

They rented a business car from the hotel, the driver took them to No. 225 Chaoyang Gate Inner Street.

This was the jurisdiction of Chaoyang Gate Street Office.

The State Council Information Office, State Council Development Research Center, International Development Knowledge Center, Care Commission, these four units operate here.

The Publicity Department Office is also located here.

Wu Qiangwei registered at the security kiosk and contacted relevant officials before entering the red flag-adorned government building.

Zhang Meilin and Fu Ying appeared rather tense, not daring to underestimate any staff members they encountered.

After all, this is Yanjing, and several units within this government building are directly managed by the state.

Even the seemingly insignificant Care Commission focuses on retired and senior comrades as its priority.

The staff who liaise with these retired comrades may not hold high ranks, but their connections are unimaginable.

It’s plausible that a junior officer’s phone contains the number of some retired deputy from the Yanjing City Committee.

This is a classic case of not being big individually, but collectively significant.

Wu Qiangwei and Song Guanchao were much more poised.

With Wu Qiangwei’s prominent family background, she’s seen numerous dignitaries; neither the small Publicity Department here nor the oceanic big shots would faze her.

Not many could make her lose composure.

Song Guanchao was similar.

During his military service, he interacted frequently with top-tier units from Yanjing, often with departments like the Ministry of Public Security.

The influential people he directly dealt with likely exceeded those Wu Qiangwei had seen.

This trip to Yanjing, lacking the customary visiting intent, otherwise just a word would have his phone endlessly ringing.

The elevator stopped at the 7th floor, upon emerging they found Lin Wanqiu already waiting for them.

"Secretary Wu, Secretary Zhang, Mayor Fu, Secretary Sun."

She smiled and shook hands one by one: "This way, please."

They entered an interview office, she handed them the prepared drafts.

"Take a look at the draft, then we’ll rehearse in a bit."

Seeing Zhang Meilin and Fu Ying slightly nervous, Lin Wanqiu said: "No need to be too anxious, I’ll ask the questions and you just answer."

While she communicated with them, a woman with wavy hair that seemed as ripe as a peach approached.

"Wanqiu, there’s a call for you."

"Okay, thank you."

Lin Wanqiu told them: "Let me take this call, I’ll be right back."

She left the recording office.

Shortly after, the mature woman returned.

"Are you leaders from Lingjiang City?"

The woman smiled alluringly, her bewitching demeanor meant every smile and gesture captivated the senses.

Wu Qiangwei smiled: "Yes."

The woman extended her hand: "Xu Zi."

She shook hands with them, picked up the draft Lin Wanqiu had left behind, and naturally took Lin Wanqiu’s seat asking: "Ready?"

They subconsciously assumed Lin Wanqiu might be occupied, and she was here to conduct the interview instead.

"Ready."

"Then let’s begin."

Xu Zi perched on a high stool, one leg on the stool foot, the other elegantly crossed on her knee.

She gestured to the cameraman: "Start."

The cameraman began recording, Xu Zi tidied her hair and with the draft in hand, smiled as she began asking questions.

The interview had barely started, less than five minutes in, when Lin Wanqiu suddenly returned.

Seeing Xu Zi on the stool, she hesitated momentarily, frowning with a stern expression.

She walked to the camera, turned it off, and then stood there with her arms crossed, quietly watching.

Noticing her action, Xu Zi stood up gracefully, her smile unwavering: "Wanqiu, you’re back, just helping you with the script. Now that you’re here, go ahead with the interview."

Listening to her, Song Guanchao and the others exchanged glances, wondering if she had just tried to hijack Lin Wanqiu’s interview?

So blatantly?

Song Guanchao eyed Xu Zi’s skirt-covered curvy bottom wondering that if she climbed to this position, her significant assets must have endured quite a lot.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢

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