Chapter 416 I Can Empathize with You: You're not trying to dump me, are you?

Ivanov's mind went blank, and he subconsciously swallowed.

In this world, no one can truly resist the temptation of power, especially after witnessing its strength and arbitrariness.

Yes, yes, on the surface, being the deputy prime minister in Russia is a high-risk job. Until the people truly decide to abandon the president and prime minister, the deputy prime minister is always the most suitable person to take the blame.

It might be online today, but it might be offline tomorrow.

Moreover, after leaving the government, they can't be like party and government cadres in the Soviet era, who at least had a guaranteed retirement job and could receive a salary.

He was truly laid off; he had nothing left. He was a typical laid-off worker, and he had to find his own way to find employment.

Take Chubais, for example; now he has to work for the oligarchs too.

But no one can deny that he was truly glamorous when he was in office.

Ivanov still clearly remembers how, last winter, in order to get a ticket to the Yukos Oil Company auction, he and Wang Yi went to great lengths, asking Kohler, the director of the State Property Management Committee, and Ponnin to act as intermediaries. They humbly begged Chubais, saying all sorts of nice things and carefully making every effort, only to be coldly rejected in the end.

Tsk, Ivanov now really thinks the left-wing newspapers were right; these Jews are ganging up to ostracize outsiders.

Otherwise, why would Chubais set up a bunch of hurdles and use every excuse to try to ensure that Khodorkovsky would take over Yukos Oil Company?

That's Yukos, the oil company that's up for auction, and it has the largest crude oil storage capacity!

Even now, Ivanov still feels a deep sense of loss, as if his billions of dollars in assets have been torn apart.

If he had power, if he were the deputy prime minister, the situation would be completely different.

However, Ivanov grew up in an extremely wealthy environment, which was reflected not only in the love his family, relatives and friends had for him, but also in the fact that he never lacked material enjoyment.

While his peers were still struggling with shortages of supplies alongside their parents and elders, he had already learned, without being taught, to take advantage of trips abroad with adults to bring goods back to the Soviet Union to resell for profit.

Therefore, his financial security meant that when he heard about the position of "Vice Premier," he only hesitated for half a minute before quickly becoming alert: "Wang, you're not trying to fob me off with a position like Vice Premier, are you?"

Oh God, he certainly knew the high-risk nature of the deputy prime ministership; he had to be prepared at all times to take the blame for the president and prime minister's failed economic reforms.

But that doesn't matter. Whether it's Gaidar or Chubais, being kicked out of the house didn't land them in jail. It's no big deal.

What he fears is compensation.

"Wang, I don't want this compensation." He looked at Wang Xiao with terrified eyes. "You're not thinking of dumping me and then giving me a vice-premier position as compensation, so we're even? NO! I refuse, I'd rather die than accept it!"

Wang Xiao was stunned. "No, bro, do you want to hear what you're saying? Your lines are totally a modified version of the innocent female lead in a domineering CEO novel!"

The bodyguards were stunned. Was the Deputy Prime Minister of the Russian Federation really that worthless? Good heavens! That was the Deputy Prime Minister, a Deputy Prime Minister who was truly in the core power circle of the country!

Ivanov, however, felt perfectly clear-headed and repeatedly emphasized, "Don't even think about getting rid of me. I won't leave. I won't even be prime minister, let alone deputy prime minister!"

Wang Xiao sighed and reminded him, "Stop daydreaming, I can't get the premiership."

Even the most insane president wouldn't easily joke about the prime minister's position. Because that's the first person who could smoothly take over his power should he suddenly pass away.

Current Prime Minister Chernomyrdin is a typical technocrat, always keeping to himself and avoiding offending anyone. While this has drawn criticism from reformers, any rational person would have to admit that it is precisely this personality that allows him to survive under the watchful eye of a suspicious president and, after the latter's downfall, to smoothly transition power without provoking strong opposition.

Because all parties felt they could negotiate with him, and it's best not to take action if things can be negotiated.

Wang Xiao emphasized again: "It's just the Vice Premier position; don't even think about anything else."

Ivanov snapped, "I don't want to be deputy prime minister either, so don't even think about getting rid of me!"

"Who said I was going to dump you?" Wang Xiao decided to use a willow branch dipped in water to exorcise the ghost from him. This guy must be possessed, otherwise why would he say such stupid things?

She worked so hard to get him to the position of vice prime minister so that she could feel she hadn’t wronged him when she cut ties with him.

Heavens! How come she didn't run into such a benevolent and sage-like person? She also wants to be dumped by someone like him.

If she could do it herself, did he think she wouldn't want to be Catherine the Great? Whoever has power is happier!

Seeing that Ivanov was still looking at him with suspicion, Wang Xiao couldn't take it anymore and yelled back, "Wake up! If you really go up there, you'll be like Yang Bailao (a character from Journey to the West) and I'll be like Huang Shiren (a character from Journey to the West). See if I'll let you off the hook!"

These days, due to serious debt disputes, there's a saying: "The one who owes money is the boss," and "Huang Shiren begs Yang Bailao."

So there was a hint of sarcasm in Wang Xiao's words.

But Ivanov was even more ruthless than her, directly offering himself up as a delicate flower to be picked, and even winking at her: "I don't have Xi'er, I'll give myself to you to pay off my debt."

Wang Xiao was so angry she laughed: "Have you no shame?"

Ivanov leaned against her shoulder, completely oblivious: "No, what's the point of having it?"

Wang Xiao reached out and pinched his cheeks: "Ah, you don't want it anymore? Then throw it away. Hurry up and tell me, do you want to be the vice premier?"

Ivanov, wincing in pain, finally told the truth: "I don't know."

Although it sounds good, God, he must have been the highest-ranking official in their family.

But his intuition told him that there might be hidden risks involved, risks that would cause him to lose something more important.

“OK.” Wang Xiao didn’t press him for an answer immediately, but instead offered a suggestion, “Why don’t you ask Punoning for advice?”

If he really wants to stay in politics, Punonin, who holds real power, will be his biggest asset.

As Wang Xiao spoke, he picked up his phone and started dialing a number, complaining to Ivanov, "If Yura were smart enough, he would have contacted Vladimir at this point and asked him to act as an intermediary."

Ivanov immediately snorted and seized every opportunity to complain: "I bet he's not that smart."

Wang Xiao deliberately argued with him: "That's not necessarily true. Last time, when he was arrested at the White House, didn't he also think of asking Vlamikil to send people to protect the Queshan Club?"

Ivanov wanted to say something, but the call had already been connected. Wang Xiao's first words were, "Vlamikil, is your phone being tapped?"

The tax police major general took a breath to calm his voice: "No."

Then, he gestured to his wife and went to a secluded spot to answer the phone.

Wang Xiao didn't feel offended at all and cut to the chase: "Vlamikil, there are two things I need to tell you. First, did Yura call you? We just had a fight with Berezovsky and his gang at the Sparrow Mountain Club. If he did, then you should go along with it and agree to act as an intermediary to persuade Ivan and me to sit down and talk to them properly."

Punonin felt a tightness in his chest again, and his voice became strained: "No, Yura hasn't contacted me."

What an idiot!

There was a ready-made opportunity to elevate Yura's status within the campaign team and also increase Punonin's influence among the oligarchs, yet Yura failed to seize it, requiring Wang Xiao to make a special phone call to remind him!

Wang Xiao was so thoughtful that he even came up with a reason for it: "Since he didn't call you, you should take the initiative to contact him. Because I called you and complained about that brainless, spineless bastard Yura, who actually sat on the sidelines while I was fighting against everyone, instead of helping me and Ivan. I told you, so you have to go and teach that jerk a lesson!"

Punonin thought there was no problem; Yura really needed to be taught a lesson. If things continued like this, he would have a hard time finding a place to stand.

"And the second thing?" he asked Wang Xiao. "What is the second thing?"

“Oh, the second thing,” Wang Xiao said casually, “is that after the presidential election, Chubais will probably put someone into the government as deputy prime minister. I think Ivan should be put in that position. Because he is a Slav, while Berezovsky and the others are Jewish and are out of the running now.”

Her voice was light and quick, as if she were talking about something trivial.

Then, while listening to his phone, Punoning felt as if thunder had exploded in his ears.

Good heavens! Deputy Prime Minister? Ivan?

Does she know what the Deputy Prime Minister means to the Russian Federation? He is a member of the country's core leadership team.

In Soviet terms, no, in Chinese terms, he entered the Politburo; he was a member of the Standing Committee!

Wang Xiao was still chuckling: "But Ivan hasn't made up his mind yet; he needs your advice and opinion. Hmm—"

She grabbed Ivanov's wrist, glanced at the time, and said, "Given Mr. Berezovsky's considerate nature, he'll probably host a dinner for us tonight. After dinner, why don't you have a good talk with Ivanov?"

Punonin took a slow, deep breath, adjusting his tone: "Okay, we can talk about this in more detail later. I'll call Yura first."

The phone call ended, but the burly, tough man didn't immediately contact his other friend, Yura.

He stared blankly ahead.

The tall birch trees were covered with a hazy new green, the soft branches of the willows swayed gently in the wind, and the tender yellow buds seemed to drip with water.

The children's laughter echoed across the grass in clumps carried by the wind.

They were flying kites, handmade kites, with crooked strokes resembling ghost faces, swaying in the wind.

Every rise and fall would make them scream loudly, run desperately, and laugh so loudly it seemed to pierce the clouds in the sky.

The farm's chubby little dog ran around the children's feet, wagging its tail like a propeller, even more anxious than its little owners.

From the livestock shed not far away, came the low mooing of cows and the snorting of horses, mixed with the scent of hay.

Their gazes are gentle, like those of an elderly person, calmly and tolerantly watching the clamor of new life.

All of this—

The new green shoots, the carefree laughter of children, kites swaying in the blue sky, the contented humming of livestock, and the fragrance of earth and grass filling the air—

Together, they form a springtime scene full of hope and vitality.

It is the tranquility and peace that Punoning longs for deep in his heart, the haven he wants to rest in after a hard day's work.

But at this moment, he couldn't fit in.

Although the wind in Moscow at the end of April was still cool, Punonin felt an indescribable heat welling up from the bottom of his heart and quickly spreading throughout his body.

His palms began to sweat slightly, and his fingers gripped the phone unconsciously. The back of his neck also felt hot, as if invisible flames were burning it.

Deputy Prime Minister, oh my God, Deputy Prime Minister!

That's simply a fantasy.

But reason told Punoning that it was very likely to become a reality.

The public pressure created by the Communist Party of the Russian Federation's "Jewish card" directly led to the downfall of six Jewish oligarchs. The only remaining survivor, Vinogradov, was relatively weak and not a key figure.

Ivanov is a pure Slav, with a pragmatic image, and the president, who already had a high opinion of him, would probably be happy to go with the flow and help him into power.

Once he takes the position of vice prime minister, cracks will inevitably appear in the oligarchic group.

This is also a good thing for Chubais.

Isn't his active pursuit of becoming the head of the presidential campaign team simply because his political ambitions haven't faded and he wants to return to Russian politics?

As a liberal reformer, he would certainly not be happy to see oligarchs banding together, as it violates the principle of free market competition.

Punoning thought deeper and deeper, smoking one cigarette after another.

Because this was very likely to come true, he found it all the more absurd.

That's Ivan, who has never been an official and has never been involved in politics.

The result was that he was promoted to vice premier right away.

Perhaps only Russia, and present-day Russia, would produce such absurd things.

Lydia walked toward her husband carrying a willow basket filled not with flowers, but with newly sprouted dandelions.

She learned from the Chinese people on the farm how to use dandelion as filling for steamed buns; the tender dandelion was just right.

When she saw her husband, she exclaimed, "Vlamik!"

Punoning then realized that the cigarette had burned his fingers.

He shook his hand dismissively, gave a slightly bitter smile, and sighed, "I probably won't be able to have dinner with you and the kids tonight."

Lydia was a little disappointed. She had already planned to have dinner today: dandelion and pork buns with oatmeal porridge, which the children would also like to eat.

But she still habitually supports her husband's work. She put down the basket and helped him pack for his trip, asking as she did so, "What's the rush?"

Punonin instinctively mumbled, "Wang and the people from the Queshan Club got into an argument, and Yura couldn't mediate. I have to go and try to persuade them."

Lydia frowned slightly: "The king's temper is really something."

Just like firecrackers from the East, you never know when they might explode.

Adhering to the principle that crows don't mind their own children being ugly, she subconsciously spoke up for Ivanov: "Given the king's temper, only Ivanov, with his good temper, could tolerate it."

So, as the Chinese proverb says, a pot needs a lid.

Punonin's heart was roaring wildly.

No, what he meant was: You know what? Wang is trying to get Ivan promoted to deputy prime minister!

Who cares what kind of temper she has? So what if she's a devil?

The position of a vice premier is enough to make millions of people willingly kneel down and kiss her feet.

But in the end, Punonin said nothing.

Why was he telling his wife all this? She didn't understand the logic behind the absurdity. It was pointless except to add to her troubles.

So in the end, he could only subconsciously defend Wang Xiao, saying, "She can't stand anyone making Ivan suffer. Ivan has to have all the good things. Anyone who leaves Ivan out is her enemy."

Lydia laughed carefree: "She's such a little mom, treating Ivan like her own child. She's going to have children of her own, she must be a mother who loves children very much."

Punoning had neither the inclination nor the time to discuss the topic with his wife. He nodded hastily, picked up his car keys, and left.

Once in the car, he picked up his phone and started making calls to go through the motions. He first berated Yura, then readily accepted Berezovsky's request on the phone, while also expressing his dissatisfaction as a parent with outsiders bullying his child.

Berezovsky kept apologizing, repeatedly emphasizing that it was all their oversight.

The Communist Party of the Russian Federation is clearly coming on strong, with almost all left-wing newspapers launching a collective attack today, thoroughly exposing the Jewish Russian elite.

In particular, Berezovsky was even found to have Israeli citizenship and to be doing business in Israel.

This completely destroyed Berezovsky's plans, who had originally intended to become the godfather of the Kremlin as the mouthpiece of the oligarchs.

Now he has to suppress his ambitions and get through this wave of attacks first.

If the president is criticized by the public as a result and loses the election, then all their efforts will have been in vain.

In any case, he must at least ensure that he does not lose everything he already has.

Ivanov, conserving his phone battery, only complained a few times before hanging up and continuing to follow the established procedures as a lobbyist.

Wang Xiao was right; Berezovsky had indeed prepared a banquet at the Queshan Club.

To entertain the VIP, he even had to spend a lot of money to temporarily hire a chef from the famous Great Wall Hotel to serve Wang Xiao.

Before the guests' cars even stopped, Berezovsky, the host, was already waiting at the door. He was accompanied by other oligarchs and regulars of the Sparrow Mountain Club.

Chubais watched from the side, smoking a cigarette, and admired him. He thought to himself, "He really is a businessman; he can always put on a brave face."

But what difference does it make? He's still standing here waiting, and when he sees the car lights flashing, he immediately puts out his cigarette and puts a piece of chewing gum in his mouth.

Who can blame him when his mother is Jewish?

Having Jewish blood meant facing numerous restrictions in this land. Even during the Soviet era, he was not allowed to travel to capitalist countries.

Now, things seem to be better, yet they also seem to be worse.

When the car stopped, dusk was almost over, and the sky was dim.

But Berezovsky could still clearly see Wang Xiao's displeasure. Her face was long and she turned her head away as soon as she got out of the car, clearly unwilling to communicate with anyone.

Berezovsky had no choice but to turn his pleading gaze to Punonin, who coughed lightly and winked at Ivanov.

Helpless, Ivan received the message and could only manage a wry smile before turning to carefully comfort Wang Xiao.

The men present no longer had time to envy, be jealous of, or resent Ivanov's good fortune, having a capable and beautiful woman paving the way for him.

Everyone was just relieved that at least there was someone who could appease her.

Frankly speaking, if they had a choice, none of the oligarchs present would want to continue to be bullied by Wang Xiao.

It's not that they're unwilling to spend money or hire experienced European and American public relations firms at high prices to serve them.

Tragically, top-notch public relations professionals under capitalism don't understand socialism, let alone what people raised under socialism are thinking.

Even the oligarchs themselves felt that their plan would not be suitable for Russia.

Therefore, Wang Xiao, who came from socialist Beijing and was skilled in public relations, became their only option to rely on.

It's strange, they themselves don't understand when they became so dependent on her.

They never even suspected that she didn't know how to resolve their Jewish heritage issue, so that they wouldn't have to be reincarnated.

It seems that as long as she agrees to take action, there's always a way to solve the problem.

This terrifyingly powerful ability forced the oligarchs to submit and be subservient.

Even if Khodorkovsky was seething with hatred, his heart bleeding, he still had to bite the bullet and apologize to her: "I'm sorry, Miss Wang, I'm sorry, Ivan, my dear friend, I didn't mean anything by it. I just..."

Wang Xiao mentally filled in the gaps for what he couldn't say: He just didn't have the guts to fight to the death, and he was afraid that even if the fish died, the net wouldn't break, so he had no choice but to bow his head.

Berezovsky, seeing his companion unable to continue, quickly stepped in: "Oh, Miss Wang, you've finally arrived. I knew the world couldn't do without ladies; kind ladies always manage to save us from dire straits."

Wang Xiao wanted to roll her eyes inwardly. These ladies are just bored and have nothing better to do than save you? Wouldn't it be better to use that time to save the world?

But she didn't come here to make sarcastic remarks; she came to push things forward.

So she simply shook her head: “No, Boris, you flatter me. In fact, I’m just an outsider with a clearer perspective. Of course you were nervous and scared when Korzhakov threatened your lives last time. I was also quite frightened when I heard later that he authorized his soldiers to open fire at any time.”

She spoke sincerely, “I understand how you felt back then. Last June, when I was kidnapped by Chechen militants, I was terrified. If Ivan hadn’t come to my rescue, and if Vlamikl hadn’t been so resourceful, I probably would have died of fright before they even fired.”

None of the oligarchs believed she could be so cowardly, but a woman's courage always seems to be demonstrated when her life is not in danger; besides, her saying this made everyone feel much better.

Therefore, no one interrupted her.

Then, Wang Xiao naturally pressed on: "This time is the same. Actually, you are absolutely capable of handling this matter. It's just that you have suffered too much unreasonable suppression during your growth because of your bloodline, which has caused you to develop psychological stress. So when you encounter this kind of unreasonable attack, you are immersed in anger and grievances for a moment and forget to fight back."

In the Soviet Union, having Jewish ancestry was a terrible original sin.

Yes, yes, it won't openly say you're Jewish, so that's why, since that doesn't conform to the political principle of equality for all.

But it will erect countless invisible walls around you.

When they were young, their peers would use the word "Jew" to insult them.

As they grow up, their Jewish heritage may prevent them from getting the decent jobs they desire, no matter how good their grades or how hard they work.

It is said that a happy childhood can heal a person for a lifetime, while an unhappy childhood requires a lifetime to heal.

Now, whenever someone attacks their Jewish heritage, it instantly drags them into a terrifying upbringing, making them tremble with rage.

Wang Xiao waved his hand firmly, making a gesture of refusal: "Using bloodline to attack someone is an extremely ignorant, incompetent, and malicious thing. It is absurd and ridiculous. There is never a bloodline that is born noble, nor is there a bloodline that is born base."

This is her true feeling; she believes in equality for all and opposes dividing people into different classes based on bloodline.

Before her transmigration, Indians were ridiculed by public opinion, as if the nation had an original sin.

Wasn't Dr. Kotnis, the internationalist fighter who aided China, Indian? He died from long-term overwork and frequent illnesses on the Chinese anti-Japanese battlefield.

Chairman Mao also personally wrote an inscription for him: "Dr. Kotnis's internationalist spirit is something we should never forget."

Even the Jewish people, whose reputation is declining, have historically produced a large number of internationalist fighters.

Wang Xiao grew increasingly angry as she spoke, her face filled with righteous indignation: "The Russian Communist Party uses Jewish ancestry as an excuse, don't they feel ashamed? Don't they believe in Marxism? Marx was a typical Jew, his grandparents were from a typical rabbinic family, and his mother also came from a rabbinic family. If they are going to attack Jews without any reason based on mere bloodline, then they should first trample their own ideology underfoot, so as to avoid internal conflict."

The Jewish people present were instantly invigorated. That's right! The main force behind the left-wing newspapers is the Russian Communist Party.

If the Russian Communist Party wants to attack Jews, let them attack Marx first.

Yes, why are these Jews arguing with left-wing newspapers? Left-wing newspapers should be the battleground for the internal struggles within the Russian Communist Party and the forces that the Russian Communist Party wants to unite.

Let the leftists argue amongst themselves first. Only whoever wins the argument will be qualified to stand in front of them for the next round of competition.

Ha! No wonder she's a top-notch PR person from Red Beijing; she's so adept at using everything about the Communist Party.

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Here's some information I found: International representatives Maring and Nikolsky participated in the First National Congress of the Communist Party of China (CPC) and played an assisting role in the founding of the CPC; Joffe and Borodin facilitated the first Kuomintang-Communist cooperation, helping the CPC's early development ideologically, organizationally, and economically; Austrian Jew Rosenfeld fled to Shanghai in 1939, later joined the War of Resistance against Japan, became a special member of the CPC in 1942, and served as an advisor to the New Fourth Army's Health Department and the head of the Health Department of the First Column of the Northeast Democratic Allied Army. They were all Jewish.

Furthermore, in reality, Jewish oligarchs only faced public criticism because of their ethnicity after the election. They indeed failed to mount any effective counterattack. Fearing further public outrage, they allowed Potanin to enter the government as First Deputy Prime Minister, simply because he was not Jewish.