Chapter 396 You're Just Afraid: The Moon Belongs to Everyone

As Wang Xiao walked out of the private room and reached the entrance of the coffee shop, he looked up and saw a full moon in the sky.

What a magnificent moon it was! Full and enormous, it hung high in the velvety night sky. It didn't sell tickets, nor did it limit the number of people allowed in; it just generously showered the earth with its bright silver light.

For a moment, Wang Xiao's breathing slowed down.

She thought of Su Shi's "Ode to the Red Cliff": "Only the clear breeze on the river and the bright moon in the mountains, which the ear hears as sound and the eye sees as color, can be taken without restraint and used without exhaustion. These are the inexhaustible treasures of the Creator, which you and I can enjoy together." (Note ①)

Look, even the snow in the corner of the cafe reflects a cool blue light, which complements the warm yellow glow of the streetlights.

When Ivanov saw her stop, he asked in surprise, "What's wrong?"

Wang Xiao's voice was soft, like a sigh: "The moon is everyone's moon, and its light shines on everyone."

Ivanov glanced over, already understanding, and then spoke simultaneously with Wang Xiao, calling out to the duty manager, "Andrei..."

After she finished speaking, the two looked at each other, their eyes curving slightly. Then Wang Xiao continued, "The coffee and egg tarts are for the lady over there."

Ivanov took out his wallet, pulled out a few banknotes, and handed them to the duty manager.

Their teamwork was so seamless that it hurt Yura's eyes to watch.

An indescribable emotion filled his heart. In fact, she could also generously offer late-night snacks to the streetwalkers. After all, the food and drinks in the café were not expensive, and he could afford them. He was not someone who would disdain offering food to streetwalkers.

He just felt it shouldn't be like this, at least not at this moment.

They were discussing Russia's future, racking their brains for what the country would be like in the future.

If I were to get involved with streetwalkers at this time, it would be neither dignified nor professional; it would be too frivolous and inappropriate.

But they, the ones standing in front of him ordering food and paying, were so poised and confident.

Yura felt a deep sense of remorse, as if her heart was being squeezed.

No, he regretted it much earlier. He regretted that when Wang returned to China, he didn't stand firm and actually acquiesced to Berezovsky and others' proposal to use the crimes of the Soviet Red Army raping the wives and daughters of communists from various countries and Lü Hongjun to attack the Russian Communist Party.

He knew, he knew perfectly well that the king would hate these things.

He's such a short-sighted, shallow, cowardly fool.

It seemed that only by cursing himself fiercely could he find a sliver of relief and barely catch his breath.

Berezovsky sighed beside him, "Miss Wang, you are such a kind lady."

Although the couple made the decision to treat the streetwalker to a late-night snack, the woman's opinion is crucial in these matters.

Ivan wouldn't be so foolish as to offend his girlfriend out of indiscriminate chivalry.

Wang Xiao offered no comment and moved on to the next topic, nodding to Berezovsky: "Then, sir, we await your good news."

What news?

The bankers debated for a long time but still couldn't make up their minds about whether to allow the Communist Party's voice to be widely heard in the media.

Finally, after finishing her cake and a cup of fruit tea, Wang Xiao was too lazy to listen to them continue arguing, so she gave a suggestion: let the president make the decision.

After all, it's the president who's running in the election; his opinion is the most important factor in deciding what to do.

The one entrusted with the important task of acting as a messenger was naturally Berezovsky, who frequently visited the Kremlin.

The latter almost sighed: "I will try to have a good talk with the president."

Wang Xiao nodded to him again and said goodbye, "Well then, thank you for your hard work, dear Boris."

She waved goodbye to everyone.

Even after getting into the car, Yura kept staring at the people outside the window.

It's getting late. Tonight, Ivan and Wang will sleep on Huaxia Commercial Street.

His gaze irresistibly turned to the second floor of the commercial street. He knew there were rooms there, very ordinary rooms, not much better than the duty room.

He had been there countless times looking for Ivan, but he never found anything special about those rooms.

But at this moment, his heart was filled with envy and jealousy, and he also wanted to go into that room.

It seemed that only in this way could his heart find peace.

Chubais rode in the same car as him, because the two of them were the only ones in the group who were not businessmen.

Yura, who was still a high-ranking government official, was always by his side, which was able to subtly soothe Chubais's emotional trauma of being ousted by the president.

Let him pretend that they are the same kind of people.

Following Yura's gaze, Chubais asked curiously, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Yura quickly looked away and casually changed the subject. "I was wondering if the president would agree to let the Communists show their faces."

This is a huge adventure.

Perhaps because it was so late, even the energetic Chubais was too lazy to continue his analysis, and instead wearily uttered, "Who knows?"

The car started moving. In front of the grand theater, there were still circus posters on the walls, showing tigers jumping through hoops of fire and bears riding on seesaws with balls.

Their president probably wants to be the ringmaster of a circus, so that they can be like circus animals, completely at his beck and call to please the audience he desires.

Sadly, they couldn't refuse.

For the sake of their property and their future, they had to cooperate.

Yura muttered to herself, "Does he have the guts?"

These words were extremely offensive, but he already felt he couldn't take it anymore.

He, and they, need positive feedback.

Fortunately, the president was much bolder than Yura had imagined.

The next day, when Wang Xiao got up, he received news that Chubais had regained his political identity—the head of the presidential campaign team.

As they had analyzed the previous night, the president did not disband the campaign team led by the current First Deputy Prime Minister Soskowets, but instead added a new campaign team composed of Chubais and businessmen.

As for whether the two teams would fight and make the situation worse, the president was not afraid.

In the afternoon, when Wang Xiao and Ivanov went to Punonin's country villa to celebrate Lydia's 40th birthday, they received a second piece of news—the president had approved their proposal.

He emphasized that he was not afraid of the Communist Party and that he would fight the Russian Communist Party to the end.

OK, with his permission, the subsequent campaign plan can be launched immediately.

Wang Xiao stood up, hugged Lydia, and presented her with the gift he had prepared: a shimmering, handmade silk embroidered scarf.

She had to leave temporarily; she had to get on with her work.

When she left, she didn't forget to take a piece of birthday cake with her.

Good heavens, can you believe it? Lydia's birthday cake was baked by the birthday girl herself.

To be honest, it's quite delicious, not too sweet.

Punoning assigned her a meeting room so that she could easily make phone calls and send faxes.

Moscow's communication infrastructure is severely outdated. No one from the telecommunications company has taken over the business yet, so there's no equipment to upgrade. Telephones that can make calls smoothly are becoming increasingly rare.

The prepared press release should be sent out immediately.

The left-wing journalists living in the cheap apartments provided by Ivanov should also be contacted promptly so that their passion for the red can be expressed.

There are also newspapers, and neutral newspapers are needed to organize verbal battles, so that the reformists and conservatives of the Communist Party can compete against each other in the newspapers and write articles to refute each other.

Only by arguing can things escalate, attract public attention, create public pressure, and force Zyuganov to choose between the conservative and reformist factions within the Communist Party of the Russian Federation.

The person on the other end of the phone worried, "What if they could put aside their theoretical disputes, temporarily ignore their differences, and just focus on winning the election in June?"

My God, the Communist Party possesses a terrifying cohesion. If they can harness it, they are invincible.

Wang Xiao held the microphone in his left hand, flipped through a page of document he had just finished reading with his right, and calmly said, "Then let's remind the Communist Party members that allowing a fake Party member to rise to power under the banner of the Communist Party is eroding public trust in the Party and will completely destroy it. To ensure the purity of the Party, they must stand up and fight. If a fake replaces the real one, how can the real one maintain his position?"

After hanging up the phone, she rubbed her temples and continued to scribble on the documents.

Footsteps sounded, and the smell of vodka filled the air. Wang Xiao didn't even look up: "Who made you drink? Flamigil or Yura?"

When she left the restaurant, the men's banquet was still going on.

As the smell of alcohol drew closer, Wang Xiao looked up, recognized the person's face, and raised an eyebrow in slight surprise: "It's you?"

Yura raised her arm in a gesture resembling surrender, her words somewhat muffled: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to apologize. I didn't mean to cause you pain, and I never intended to hurt you."

As if to show his attitude, he took two steps back and plopped down on the rattan chair opposite the table, about 5 meters away from Wang Xiao.

If it weren't for the lingering smell of alcohol, Wang Xiao would have almost ignored his presence.

She nodded: "I understand, you can go back now."

This gesture of seeing her off made Yura feel annoyed, and all her emotions seemed to explode at that moment.

He blurted out, "What if it were me? I mean, if you had met me first, would you have treated me the same way you treated Ivan?"

Faced with Wang Xiao's astonished gaze, he couldn't wait to emphasize, "Don't say you're not interested in me. I can feel it, any normal man can feel it."

Good heavens, what nonsense is he talking about? He swears he would never say such a thing when he is sober.

But alcohol can always awaken the devil in people's hearts, making them reckless and daring.

He had expected the king to ignore him, after all, every conversation she had with him had made him furious.

Why would he go out of his way to get himself into trouble?

But the king truly ignored him, and the intense pain nearly destroyed him again.

He had always hoped that the king's gaze would fall on him, even if it was mocking, teasing, malicious, or flirtatious.

Because it at least proves that she is paying attention to him.

That was a fact, and he wouldn't allow her to deny it; she was interested in him.

Wang Xiao did not deny it; instead, he nodded, showing his open and honest nature.

As Yura felt a subtle sense of smug satisfaction, she casually remarked, "But so what? There are plenty of men who are sexually attractive to me. Am I supposed to sleep with them all one by one?"

Such rude language is something no lady could utter.

She was not a gentle, refined lady.

She would only make Yura blush.

The man, emboldened by the alcohol, was almost burning with its heat, stammering, "Why...why? Why can Ivan do it, but I can't?"

He swears to God that he was more popular with the female students than Ivan was.

Wang Xiao almost rolled his eyes. Don't you have any self-awareness? You're a human ETC (Electronic Toll Collection) device, a guy who's all about arguing, and you actually ask why?

She said sincerely, "Because I mean what I say, I don't like being contradicted. Ivan never contradicts me, he only affirms and praises me, and always provides me with plenty of emotional value."

Yura opened her mouth, but for a moment she didn't know what to say.

The window across the street opened, and the sound of a television drifted out. It was the BBC's six-episode miniseries "Pride and Prejudice," and the boys and girls who had escaped from the adults' party were laughing and watching the videotape.

The dialogue from the TV series inspired Yura, who eagerly added, "At first, Mr. Darcy spoke rudely to Elizabeth, but that didn't prevent them from living happily ever after."

Lyuba, who was always by Wang Xiao's side like a shadow, wanted to cover her face when she heard this.

God, they lived happily ever after—this common ending to fairy tales, he said it so matter-of-factly.

Wang Xiao laughed.

Seriously, when people are good-looking, even their silly moments are kind of cute.

Look at this man in front of me, with his beautiful features and rosy complexion, how adorable he is.

He's so cute you just want to destroy him.

Wang Xiao smiled, her eyes crinkling: "So Darcy and Elizabeth's story is a romance novel."

The snow outside the window seemed to have melted into water, pouring over Yura's head. He shuddered and almost woke up completely.

He stood up unsteadily, took two steps toward the door, then turned back, his face pleading, and muttered, "Let me stay a little while, please, let me stay a little while."

He was in so much pain; the intense pain was threatening to crush him.

He once read a story about religion in China, which said that highly accomplished monks possessed their own energy, and people who were close to them could receive the warm energy emanating from them and feel very comfortable.

He believed that Wang Xiao was that kind of person, and that being close to her could bring him comfort.

Wang Xiao stretched out his left hand, making a gesture of invitation.

This isn't her home, so how can she restrict his movements?

Yura leaned against the window. Spring in Moscow was slow to arrive, and even the bell-shaped snowdrops and vibrant crimson crocuses blooming outside the window couldn't brighten his eyes.

Quotes from "Pride and Prejudice" still drifted back to him from time to time, but to him now, they had gone from sweet to torment.

He couldn't wait to ask, "So, will you be hosting the president of the Soviet Union? I mean, the last secretary of the Soviet Union, Gorbachev."

Wang Xiao looked up in surprise, staring at him in astonishment: "Why would you suddenly bring this up?"

It's nonsensical and illogical.

Yura couldn't very well say that he had just picked up the topic randomly, so he had to bite the bullet and try to salvage the situation: "You entertained Zyuganov, shouldn't you entertain the last secretary of the Soviet Union? You should be grateful to him, all foreigners will be grateful to him."

Just like all Soviets would hate him.

Wang Xiao didn't answer directly, but instead pressed, "Is he going to China? What will he do there? I thought he would stay in Russia to run for president, or at least be an advisor or something."

Yura shook his head. Because of the alcohol, the action made his head spin, and he had to stop before speaking. His voice was even more slurred: "A friend told me that he wants to go to Shenzhen. He wants to see how China is carrying out economic reforms."

In 1986, when this last General Secretary of the Soviet Union took office, he also launched sweeping reforms.

Tragically, he failed.

He was completely baffled as to how a socialist country could carry out market economy reforms while maintaining its original system.

He can't find peace of mind unless he sees it with his own eyes.

Wang Xiao dismissed it: "Just to find this answer? He just wants to know how he failed?"

Yura nodded, a rare hint of mutual appreciation between them, both being reformers.

He disliked Gorbachev, but the latter's failure terrified him, and he feared he might follow in Gorbachev's footsteps.

Wang Xiao shook his head, rubbed his temples, and said casually, "If that's all there is to it, then he might not need to go to Shenzhen, and I can give him an answer."

Yura seemed to have been injected with adrenaline; his previous dejection and pain were temporarily blown away, and his eyes began to light up: "What is the answer?"

"He's wrong, he got the order wrong."

While stretching his stiff neck, Wang Xiao slowly explained, "The first thing all successful reformers do is centralize power and seize all the power in their own hands. This includes capitalist societies and the West. For example, Roosevelt's New Deal. Before launching the New Deal, the first thing he did was to consolidate his power."

She leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed. "Because the essence of reform is the redistribution of power and interests, it will inevitably infringe on the interests of those who have already benefited. And those who have already benefited will absolutely not be willing to negotiate with you; they will do everything they can to protect their own interests."

“At this point, if you do not firmly grasp power, your reforms will absolutely not be able to proceed. Those who truly hold power will try every means to outwardly comply but inwardly defy, or even openly resist, directly destroying the reforms.”

Her lips curled upwards, filled with emotion. "This is a very interesting historical fact. Power often leads to dictatorship, but it can also drive social reform, making the social atmosphere more relaxed and the ideas more inclusive. However, the order of these two cannot be reversed, otherwise it will cause a disaster like Mr. Gorbachev's reforms."

Yura's mouth dropped open again. He hadn't expected to hear the word "dictatorship" so easily from the king's mouth.

A subtle sense of national pride made him blurt out, "Did you also establish your dictatorship in this way?"

Wang Xiao laughed: "Don't compare them. Their situations are different. Our Mr. Deng studied in France in his early years and joined the Party. He was among the earliest Red Army soldiers who went through the War of Resistance Against Japan and the War of Liberation, and also experienced the post-war national reconstruction. He achieved numerous victories. He is undoubtedly a veteran, and he naturally has the qualifications within the Party."

She shook her head. "Mr. B.R. Gorgachev won't do. Nominally he's the top leader of the CPSU, but he's not trusted. He's too young and doesn't have any real achievements that can convince everyone. What about being the General Secretary? Back then, Khrushchev was forced to step down, so what chance does he have?"

Because if someone becomes a high-ranking leader at a young age, even if they don't intend to reform, they have to be ruthless to secure their position. How can they be soft-hearted?

In a sense, personality can indeed determine destiny.

She nodded to Yura: "Alright, any more questions? If not, then don't drink any more strong liquor."

The banquet served wine, a low-alcohol wine made by the birthday girl Lydia herself, not strong vodka.

Yura's face showed embarrassment. He had expressed his disgust for alcoholics to Wang Xiao several times, and for it, he had been rebuked by her.

Now, he was the one who was drunk, and he stammered, "I'm just... I'm just in a bit of pain, and I need to relieve the stress."

He finally understood why people choose to drink alcohol.

The immense pressure weighs on one's heart like a mountain, and besides drinking to relax, there seems to be no better option.

Wang Xiao raised his hand, and Liu Ba raised her hand.

The latter immediately took out pickled bamboo shoots from her bag, which was Miss Wang's snack.

She actually preferred pickled chicken feet, but considering that Yura probably wouldn't be able to accept eating chicken feet, she opted for bamboo shoots instead.

Yura took a bite with some skepticism, only to feel a pungent smell rush straight to the top of her head, making her feel like she was about to explode.

Good heavens, what terrible food this is!

Wang Xiao laughed: "How about it? Are you awake now?"

Yura was exasperated: "No, what I need is relaxation. God, do you even know what relaxation is?"

Wang Xiao said calmly, "What are you relaxing about? Has the problem been solved? If the problem hasn't been solved, how can you relax? What you need now is not to relax and escape, but to face it head-on."

The unlucky Yura was so spicy he was questioning his existence. He cursed and found a can of cola in the house, and as if grasping at a straw, he quickly gulped it down.

Wang Xiao saw that his face and neck were red, and he was as red as a shrimp. She laughed and said, "Alright, you can go back now. Don't drink anymore. Only cowards drink."

She looked at Yura, and finally, her kindness took hold. "Besides, don't worry about it anymore. You're not interested in me. I'm not your type. You're just envious and jealous of Ivanov. Ivanov, Vlamikil, and you were all on par, but now they're all moving forward while you're stuck in the same place, wandering aimlessly. That terrifies you, so you want to take shortcuts. Every Duroy wants a Madeleine."

Yura's face flushed even redder. He was unwilling to admit that he was Duroy, the handsome friend in Maupassant's story, but he had to admit that his ambition also desired a Madeleine, a woman who could help him spur himself on to progress.

But his pride as a gentleman compelled him to emphasize again: "Your Majesty, do not underestimate yourself. You are charismatic and have a strong attraction for everyone."

Wang Xiao casually twirled the pen in her hand and smiled slightly: "Oh, really? I'd much rather you continue to call me scary."

She looked out the window. "Dear Mr. Punoning, are you too scared to come in? If not, please come in and talk to me."

Yura jumped up in fright, and the intoxication from the vodka completely vanished.

Good heavens! Flamikil is outside!

Does that mean that Vlamikl heard everything he just said?

Yura felt like she was about to die.

When Vladimir entered the room and glanced at him, he instinctively wanted to kneel down.

"What are you still standing here for?" The tax police major general glared at his friend, whom he considered as close as a brother, with exasperation. "Get out of here!"

He truly didn't mind that Wang Xiao had a lover, just like Catherine the Great had lovers everywhere; these were all trivial matters.

But he would never allow Yura to be his lover, because it would ruin their friendship.

Wang Xiao smiled and shrugged, then casually addressed the man who had just entered the room: "So, what about you, sir? What do you want to say to me? Or are you looking for some answers?"

Punonin was much more at ease than Yura, but it wasn't exactly relaxing for him either.

He sat in the wicker chair, gesturing as if to speak: "Your Majesty, I need to talk to you about what to do next."

How tragic! Although he was a major general in the tax police, he was an upright person who was not keen on corruption, so he was unable to support advisors, or more specifically, staff.

When it comes to planning for the future, the only person he could think of to sit down and discuss things with him and offer advice was Wang.

Wang Xiao, feeling looked down upon, smiled and held out her hand: "Such a serious question deserves at least an ice cream. Sir, you'll have to exchange it for an ice cream."

Punonin glanced at her, nodded, and went out, only to turn back a few minutes later.

This time, he wasn't alone. Lydia was by his side, carrying a plate with an ice cream and a tart.

Wang Xiao raised her eyebrows slightly. Ice cream was fine, but tarts were a novelty in Moscow.

The host's hospitality is very thoughtful.

Punonin took the plate from his wife, placed it on the table himself, and gestured for her to try it: "Please have a taste."

Then he nodded to his wife, "Lydia, close the door when you go out."

After the door closed, he finally got to the point: "Your Majesty, do you think I should seek a posting to a local post? I mean, to a regional post."

According to Soviet tradition, a legitimate successor must undergo rigorous training at both the local and central levels.

Among these factors, governing a region is a very important aspect.

Only by achieving results at the local level can one catch the attention of the central government and be selected as a successor.

Following this process, Boris Nemtsov has more advantages than him.

Because he had no experience governing anywhere, from the military to the central government.

However, liberal Boris Nemtsov has been the governor of Nizhny Novgorod Oblast for several years.

Wang Xiao scooped up some ice cream and laughed: "Vlamikil, are you so confident? You firmly believe that the president will be re-elected? Yura is still drinking heavily out of fear."

Punonin looked at her meaningfully: "No, I have confidence in you. Your bet will definitely win."

Wang Xiao shook his head, a smile playing on his lips: "No, dear Vlamikil, you don't seem to understand businessmen very well. A businessman will bet everything if there's only a 50% chance of winning."

She leaned back in her executive chair, smiling at him. "So now, my dear Major General, do you still want to hear my answer?"

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"Bel-Ami" is a novel by Maupassant, and to be honest, Madeleine is amazing. I first read it when I was in elementary school, and I was deeply impressed. I thought this woman was truly incredible.