Chapter 385 The Flow of Power Never Ceases: Fabricating Opponents

It was getting late, and the president needed to rest, so Wang Xiao and the others should say their goodbyes.

The president looked at Ivanov and said, half-jokingly, "My lad, you're really something. Boris didn't even complain to me."

Berezovsky was positioned slightly behind, and thank God, he was rather stocky, so even though he was more than half a head shorter than Ivanov, he wasn't completely obscured.

He complained helplessly, "Sir, we're fine, there's no argument."

"That's good." The president had been under scrutiny today and had barely drunk any alcohol, but the alcohol didn't make him drunk; his words still carried a slightly tipsy tone. "Don't argue."

He pointed to his head, looking troubled. "You guys are always arguing, it gives me a headache."

Ivanov wondered to himself, who was using him as a pawn to attack Berezovsky?

Now the culprit is saying this pitifully, as if he were the victim.

But Ivanov remained polite and even smiled: "Of course, we don't argue."

Berezovsky quickly chimed in, "We are having a very pleasant collaboration."

The president nodded, his expression almost intoxicated: "Cooperation, the most important thing is cooperation. Russia needs cooperation."

More people flocked to the president, wanting to speak to him and say goodbye.

Wang Xiao and the others took the opportunity to say goodbye and leave.

The president's youngest daughter, Tatiana, personally saw them off.

As they approached the door, Punonin helped Yura, who was walking unsteadily, over.

This poor guy had been organizing a prohibition campaign and his alcohol tolerance had severely decreased; he was knocked out by a glass of strong liquor.

After taking a nap in the lounge, he was helped out by Punoning.

He was already seeing double images of people, but that didn't stop him from spotting Wang Xiao. He eagerly asked, "Are we just going to stop like this? No, Wang, we can do more."

Wang Xiao said calmly, "They haven't stopped. Our Boris is still working hard."

The evening breeze of Moscow swept through the long steps of the Kremlin, ruffling her hair.

She turned her head, looked at Berezovsky and smiled, "Our Mr. Boris is more of a doer than a talker, she can do the job very well."

Tatiana sighed inwardly; they really couldn't start an argument.

It wasn't that Ivanov had a good temper and wouldn't clash with Berezovsky, but rather that Miss Wang was there, and he knew when to advance and when to retreat.

Berezovsky didn't gain any advantage in the privatization auction, which meant he suffered a huge loss.

She then recruited people to directly join the propaganda war to defend the president, giving him the opportunity to shine.

Now he has withdrawn decisively, leaving the stage directly to Berezovsky.

As long as he remains a normal person with normal intelligence and doesn't go insane, he has no reason to resent and ostracize the Wuzhou Group.

Clearly, Berezovsky, a mathematician by training, was a smart man.

He took off his hat and said politely, "I will do my best to continue this job."

Yura felt a bit more awake as the Moscow winter evening wind blew over his head. He stared at Wang Xiao and said, "But you didn't have to stop. Look how well your previous programs were received."

As Wang Xiao descended the steps, he refused, saying, "No, MTV is an entertainment channel, not a news channel. It's fine to do it occasionally, but if it continues to be associated with politics, it will ruin the channel's identity."

She stepped down the steps and nodded her thanks to Tatiana, who had personally escorted them down: "We are very satisfied to see the President out safe and sound. Now we can focus all our attention on business."

It's time to stop. She's not a member of the presidential campaign team, nor is she an official paid by the Russian federal government; she's just a temporary replacement.

She only stepped in to help because her man had accidentally gotten caught up in a crisis, in order to save him from it.

Now that the crisis is over, she has no reason to stay.

In this world, anything easily obtained, whether people or things, no matter how wonderful, will not be cherished.

Tatiana nodded her thanks, and the two waved goodbye.

Only the tipsy Yura refused to give up, chasing after the car all the way to it, tirelessly emphasizing to Wang Xiao: "But 'Our Day' is doing very well. Similar programs, or even inserting them into other programs, should highlight the large number of capable officials that have emerged in Moscow during the reforms."

Wang Xiao thought to himself, "Come on! What kind of sweet dreams are you having when you're drunk?"

There are also a large number of capable officials.

If there were so many talented people, with your pathetic abilities, how could you have served as a high-ranking official in Russia for so long?

They have absolutely no idea what's going on!

But considering the fragile feelings of her international friends, she changed her words and said in a low voice, "Yura, don't you think Vlamikil has enough competitors? At tonight's dinner, the president was practically dragging Boris Nemtsov all over the place."

Yura instinctively turned to look at her friend.

The cobblestones of Red Square gleamed coldly, and the streetlights cast hazy orange circles in the night, illuminating Vladimir's expressionless face, or, to be more precise, his helpless expression: "Alright, Yura, you've had too much to drink. You should go back and rest."

Yura immediately showed disgust. Another Boris. He hated all Boris.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

The young Nizhny Novgorod governor, Boris Nemtsov, showed none of the usual Russian aloofness; he was like a cowboy from the West, running out of the Kremlin all the way with a smile.

The thick, vermilion palace walls became his backdrop. From afar, he enthusiastically waved his arm and greeted him: "Hey! Mr. Ivanov."

Everyone assumed he was just waving goodbye, so Ivanov, who had gotten into the car, simply rolled down the window and waved back.

We're not familiar with each other yet; tonight is the first time we've met.

To everyone's surprise, Nemtsov ran all the way over, excitedly saying, "God help me, I was afraid you'd leave."

Ivanov, of course, couldn't sit in the car and talk to people, so he quickly opened the car door.

As soon as he got off the bus, he wanted to go back inside.

Because the 36-year-old governor's next question was: "My dear Ivan, when are you going to invest in Nizhny Novgorod Oblast?"

Wait, are we that close? When did I become your dear Ivan?

Even the super-e-man Ivanov was completely baffled by him.

It was Wang Xiao who got out of the car and saved the unfortunate child. She smiled and extended her hand to Nemtsov: "Where's the information, sir? Do you have any information on Nizhny Novgorod Oblast?"

Unexpectedly, Nemtsov immediately took Wang Xiao's hand and kissed the back of it. Under the dim streetlights, his gaze was almost affectionate: "Excuse me, beautiful lady, I forgot to bring it."

Ivanov nearly lost his temper on the spot.

Wang isn't Russian, why would he give a hand-kissing greeting?

He handed over his business card with a forced smile: "Well then, Mr. Nemtsov, please fax the information to this number, or mail it to us. Otherwise, it will be difficult for us to understand the specific situation based solely on what you say."

Nemtsov accepted the business card with a smile and then handed over his own: "If you have any questions, please call this number. I'm always happy to help."

Ivanov nodded haphazardly, put his arm around Wang Xiao's shoulder and helped him into the car, then nodded to Nemtsov again: "I forgot to say, congratulations, sir, I wish you all the best in the future."

He didn't even have time to properly say goodbye to Yura and Punonin; he could only wave haphazardly to indicate that he was leaving first.

If he didn't leave soon, he was really worried that Nemtsov would never stop.

The car door closed, and the car drove onto the square. Ivanov began to complain, "Honestly, this guy is so frivolous! He's like a peacock spreading its tail!"

He swears that Nemtsov was still flirting with the king when he left.

Thank God, the Kremlin is very close to Huaxia Commercial Street; you can walk there.

However, considering that Wang was wearing a formal dress for the banquet and would still feel cold in her legs and feet even with a coat over her clothes, he chose to come by car.

Otherwise, he was really afraid that the male peacock with its tail feathers spread out would follow them all the way to Huaxia Commercial Street.

Wang Xiao laughed out loud: "He's always been a notorious playboy, fond of fine wine and beautiful women. His reputation is no less than yours."

As a well-known playboy in Moscow, Ivanov got stuck.

So he changed his attack direction without hesitation: "You don't even bring any information, and you still want to attract investment?"

Good heavens! He had never encountered such a makeshift team in any of the investment promotion efforts he had experienced in the provinces of Jiangdong and Jiangbei.

They're incredibly professional; they arrange everything perfectly for you.

Nemtsov is just looking for an excuse to strike up a conversation.

Wang Xiao laughed out loud: "You have to consider the actual situation. Jiangdong and Jiangbei have been doing investment promotion since the 1980s, so they have a lot of experience in this area. Nemtsov has only been a local official for four years. The fact that he came to Moscow to receive an award and thought of taking the opportunity to meet more businessmen and promote investment is already very impressive."

They are at least better than most local officials who, to this day, still lack the ability to engage in economic development.

Ivanov continued to grumble and complain, looking quite dissatisfied.

He now declares that he hates that flamboyant male peacock.

Wang Xiao was both amused and exasperated, and held out her hand: "Give me some disinfectant wipes."

The cars have all stopped.

She took the tissue from Lyuba, carefully wiped the back of her hand, and looked at Ivanov helplessly: "Is that alright now?"

Ivanov snorted, took her right hand, and went upstairs.

When you're on your own turf, it's always comfortable to do whatever you want.

After taking a shower, Wang Xiao changed into comfortable loungewear, wrapped her long, wet hair in a hair drying cap, and lay down on the rocking chair, feeling so relaxed.

Ivanov also has the same style, leaning back in a rocking chair and rocking back and forth, making creaking sounds.

His hair was short, and after covering it for a while, he casually pulled off the hair-drying cap, and his wet blond hair fell down in front of his forehead, which inexplicably reminded Wang Xiao of wheat straw soaked by rain.

Ivanov noticed her staring at him and asked in confusion, "What's wrong?"

When Wang Xiao shared his associations, he not only didn't feel offended, but became happy instead: "See, see, I knew I represented harvest and hope."

Wang Xiao also smiled.

She thought back to when she was in college, watching "Lurking" with her roommates, and how she loved Cuiping.

Back then, the words of praise and blessing exchanged among the girls in their dormitory were, "May you become a woman as strong as a cow."

Ivanov asked curiously, "What are you laughing at?"

After Wang Xiao explained the reason, he thought about it carefully and nodded affirmatively: "That is truly a wonderful blessing, as strong as a cow."

Those who have experienced life and death, and more than once, will always have a persistent and yearning for vigorous vitality.

The brass lamp on the coffee table cast a warm yellow glow, casting a shadow on his sharply defined profile, making his eyelashes appear like butterfly wings fluttering slightly beneath his eyes.

Wang Xiao laughed and nodded, saying, "I wish you become a man as strong as a bull."

However, these words aroused Ivanov's competitive spirit.

He immediately struck a bodybuilder pose and earnestly emphasized, "I am very strong."

As he spoke, he untied the belt of his robe, grabbed her hand and pressed it against it, solemnly proving to himself, "If you don't believe me, touch it, it's firm."

Wang Xiao was led by his hand and touched twice. Yes, it was indeed hard and furry.

Then she slapped him across the face, raising her eyebrows: "Hurry up and put your clothes on. Do you want to catch a cold and then get pneumonia?"

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room struck ten, its sound muffled, as if its strength had been absorbed by the heavy velvet curtains.

She walked to the window, pulled back the curtains, hesitated for a moment, and ultimately did not open the window.

Ivanov let out an exaggerated howl, hurriedly put on his bathrobe, then grabbed a coral fleece blanket and wrapped it around her, hugging her from behind and complaining softly, "You're one to talk! Aren't you afraid of catching a cold? What are you looking at?"

As he spoke, he followed her gaze and instantly stopped his incessant chatter.

In the distance, the Kremlin towers stand against the deep blue night, the red star flickering in the wind like a solitary lamp that never goes out, silently watching over the city.

The Soviet Union collapsed, and the Red Star, which had been part of the Kremlin since the 1930s and is an integral part of the overall architectural style, was preserved as a historical symbol of important architectural aesthetic value. Whether this is a consolation or a misfortune is unknown.

The faint scent of cedar lingered around her nose. Wang Xiao sighed softly and changed the subject: "I bet Flamkiel is really unhappy tonight."

Ivanov tried to cheer himself up, nodded, and his stubble, which he had shaved in the morning, started to grow back, brushing against Wang Xiao's shoulder and earlobe: "So, he can be happy in his position?"

Tonight, the president practically showered Nemtsov with praise. Nemtsov stayed by his side almost the entire time.

As is well known, Russia remains a de facto non-partisan regime to this day.

Moreover, following the shelling of the White House, the president became highly centralized in his authority.

This means that, although Russia has abandoned socialism and is on the path of capitalism, it is almost impossible for it to elect a new president in a proper Western-style manner after the next presidential term ends.

It is very likely that it will still be a succession system.

In other words, who will be the next president? That's up to this current president.

Of course, this is all on the premise that he can successfully retain his position in the Kremlin next year.

Wang Xiao also let out a long sigh of relief, his voice languid: "Even if you're uncomfortable, Vladimir has to bear it. Doesn't our president know this? He's all about balance."

If Berezovsky is in charge of Channel One, then Gusinsky will take over NTV.

Gusinski was disobedient and kept nagging about the Chechen war.

Then Ivanov rose to power and became a tool used by the president to check Berezovsky.

Punonin rose to prominence that year and became a recognized rising star in politics; naturally, the president wanted to promote Nemtsov.

The latter was a local official whom he had personally promoted, and from an emotional point of view, he was more favored by him than Punoning, a third-generation Red Army descendant.

Even if Nemtsov hadn't been there, someone else would have.

Ivanov felt inexplicably tired and complained, "How boring."

They inherited none of the Soviet Union's strengths; however, they retained every bit of its intrigue and political balancing act.

Wang Xiao looked at the Moscow River in the distance, which was just a dark, winding shadow in the night. The buildings on the opposite bank were just blurry outlines and scattered lights.

She didn't say anything.

All that could be heard was Ivanov's muttering: "This is for the best, better than letting Vladimir get involved in the affairs between Grachev and Bered."

Who are these two?

Grachev is the Minister of Defense, but he does not have a high reputation in the military.

This same guy, living in the dream of a Soviet superpower, confidently declared before the Chechen War that a single airborne battalion could take Grozny in just a few days.

The more brutal the war that followed, the more ferocious the slaps to his face became.

Bered was a powerful general in the army, the commander of the 14th Army. He distinguished himself in mediating the conflict between the Moldovan central government and the Transnistrian local government, gaining great fame and high prestige within the military.

Without a doubt, his relationship with Grachev was not good either.

Later, his opposition to the Russian federal government's military intervention in Chechnya displeased the president.

When the president ordered the reorganization of the 14th Army last year, he resigned in anger and began his political career.

He made frequent appearances during this year's State Duma elections, clearly hoping to gain some advantage.

Because Bered is also a typical tough guy, known for his stern and unsmiling face.

Therefore, Ivanov felt that he and Punonin were similar in style, and was quite worried that the latter would be pulled out by the president to fight against Bered.

What will the outcome be? It's really hard to say.

Bered was a general who had actually fought on the battlefield, and his prestige in the army was obviously higher than that of Punonin.

It's like competing in the Olympics; if you encounter an opponent who specifically counters you in the group stage, the final result will be a disastrous defeat.

Thank God, Nemtsov came to the rescue just in time.

He became Vladimir's rival, but was much weaker than Bered.

Before Ivanov could even make the sign of the cross, he suddenly realized: "So that's why you arranged for 'Our Day' to be filmed in Nemtsov?"

Wang Xiao said with a serious expression, spreading his hands: "I would like to film General Bered, but he is too old, he is 45 years old, and MTV viewers don't like him."

Ivanov didn't believe her nonsense at all, and was still excited: "The TV station just finished airing Vlamikl's interview, and now it's Nemtsov's. Even if the president didn't think this way at first, the TV viewers will naturally compare the two of them. One is a scholar, the other a warrior; one is calm, the other lively; both are in their prime and are natural rivals."

Good heavens! He really foresaw everything and had already laid out plans for Vladimir.

Moreover, the president would welcome this arrangement, as he desperately needs Nemtsov's rise to balance the relationships among the younger generation.

Ivanov couldn't help but feel jealous: "Your Majesty, you have truly considered Vladimir's future."

Wang Xiao laughed, her eyes crinkling into crescents as she looked at him, praising, "Our Ivan is really smart, he can even see that. If it were Yura, he would definitely think I'm short-sighted, only thinking about solving the immediate crisis and never considering planting a mine for Vladimir."

Ivanov snorted, making no attempt to hide his disdain: "Ignore him, there's no way he's got the brains to figure this out."

Although in school, Yura was better than him in grades, even though he was the best among the worst.

However, once they entered society and started working, Yura, unlike him, didn't have a king to guide him and allow him to make rapid progress.

So it's perfectly normal that Yura is getting dumber and dumber.

So it was only natural that Yura looked at him with a mixture of envy and jealousy.

Wang Xiao teased him, "I'm afraid Vlamikl isn't quick-witted enough to understand this."

Ivanov revealed the shrewdness and composure of a businessman: "That means he is incapable of reaching the Kremlin; he lacks political acumen."

Discovering the truth early is a good thing for them.

Vladimir shifted his focus, abandoning his bid for the next presidential election and choosing instead to remain a powerful official.

They don't need to waste meaningless political investments on him.

Ivanov muttered to himself, "That way, Lydia's pressure will disappear."

But what followed was their troubles.

His face was full of unspeakable emotions: "We can't possibly go and support that ostentatious peacock, can we?"

Good heavens! Although Kennedy was a very popular president in the United States, he had no desire to support a Kennedy in Russia.

Wang Xiao laughed out loud: "Don't think so much."

She drew the curtains. "Let's go to bed early. Who knows if our president might suddenly decide to find another favorite?"

Besides, being a darling isn't necessarily a good thing.

How did Gaidar rise to prominence in the first place? And how was he later made a scapegoat, directly thrown out to take the blame for the president's failed economic reforms?

Ivanov shook his head in annoyance: "Stop making a fuss. Hopefully, Vladimir hasn't forgotten how smart he was in school."

He had absolutely no desire to deal with that male peacock.

God bless! Most of the time, the intelligence of top students can be seen in many aspects.

For example, Punoning didn't say anything, but he didn't do anything either.

He quietly reduced his presence, only giving an interview to reporters during the State Duma elections to express his support for "Our Homeland - Russia".

In contrast, Nemtsov is enjoying much more success, making the news several times and becoming the most dazzling new political star in the second half of this year.

But no matter how flamboyant he was, or how much the media touted the success of our reforms, when the State Duma election results came out on December 17, no one could laugh anymore.

The Communist Party of the Russian Federation (CPRF) won 22.3% of the vote, securing 64 seats and becoming the largest party in the Duma; the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) won 11.18% of the vote, securing 34 seats; Our Homeland Russia won 10.13% of the vote, securing 36 seats; and the Yabloko party won 6.89% of the vote, securing 20 seats.

Without a doubt, the Communist Party of the Russian Federation is the big winner.

In single-seat constituencies, the Communist Party of the Russian Federation also performed well, ultimately winning a total of 157 seats and becoming the majority party in the Duma.

This outcome directly reversed the situation in Congress where pro-government forces had dominated since the 1993 White House bombardment.

From then on, at least theoretically, parliament could rival the president.

There is no doubt that such an election result is unacceptable to Russia's radical reformists.

They angrily surrounded the Kremlin, demanding that the government take responsibility for the election defeat.

Then, the sacrificer was naturally thrown out.

Chubais, the Russian Federation's First Deputy Prime Minister who spearheaded the privatization process, was suddenly dismissed from all his posts by the president on January 16, 1996, 30 days after the State Duma elections.

To make matters worse, the president angrily emphasized to reporters: "Chubais sold off a major industry for almost no money, which is intolerable to us."

Even though Ivanov had already guessed this, he still felt a chill run down his spine.

He can even forgive Chubais for trying so hard to stop him from participating in the Yukos auction, and even feels sorry for him.

At that time, Chubais was eyeing the votes behind Khodorkovsky.

He had thought the president would at least protect Chubais, and that he would simply push Koch, the head of the State Property Management Committee, out as a scapegoat.

Wang Xiao chuckled and shook his head: "Koch's presence is too weak; not many ordinary people know him. He's not as famous as Chubais. He's only able to barely withstand the anger by taking the blame."

Ivanov sneered: "Next one? Who will he find to be the scapegoat next?"

Wang Xiao pointed to Nemtsov's name, which had reappeared on the front page of the newspaper, and said meaningfully, "In a few more years, he should be ready to use it too."

The Prime Minister and Deputy Prime Minister of Russia have high-risk jobs, as they are in positions where they could potentially take a bullet for the President at any time.

However, according to Russian law, the prime minister is the first in line to succeed the president.

So even if they know it's a high-risk profession, so what? Who can resist the temptation to realize their dreams in a high position, and who can resist the immense allure of power itself?

Wall Street, where money never sleeps.

The Kremlin, where power flows ceaselessly.

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[Let me see] Good morning, off to work. The election results mentioned in the article are real, and the president's accusations against Chubais are his own words.