Chapter 337 Only those with value will be utilized (bug fix): They're all talented people.
However, the more Wang Xiao listened, the more he felt that Punoning had reason to believe he was capable.
After all, the Russian military's actions in Grozny were truly baffling.
First, they encountered almost no resistance before entering the city.
This is perfectly normal; Chechen President Dudayev was promoted to Soviet Major General through legitimate military merit.
If he hadn't been out of his mind, he would never have chosen to engage in a direct confrontation with the aggressive Russian Federation forces.
Give up the city, ambush, and deplete the Russian army's manpower to the maximum extent possible, confuse the enemy and instill fear in them. Then, when the Russian army increases its firepower, preserve your own manpower, withdraw from the city, fight guerrilla warfare, and harass the Russian army continuously until you wear them down.
Look, even someone like Wang Xiao, who knows absolutely nothing about military affairs, could come up with the Chechen strategy, something the Russian Ministry of Defense couldn't even conceive of.
A unit arrived in Grozny, but instead of waiting for their comrades to arrive and rely on each other, their superiors ordered them to drive their tanks directly into the city.
Even more outrageous was that, whether due to a shortage of troop carriers or some other reason, a large number of soldiers were allowed to enter the city sitting directly on tanks—yes, like sitting in the back of a tractor.
Wang Xiao felt that even pinching his philtrum couldn't save him.
She took a deep breath, feeling utterly exhausted despite not having done anything: "When the farm kids play war games, which side dares to do that and get captured? Even if his friends rescue him, they'll still curse him out."
Never venture too far alone; even a child playing in the mud understands this principle.
Ivanov turned his head away, looking at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the snow reflecting off the window, refusing to look at Wang Xiao.
Even though he didn't fight the war, wasn't a decision-maker, and wasn't even a soldier, he still felt incredibly ashamed, having disgraced Russia.
The housekeeper came over to ask them if it was time for dinner.
As Wang Xiao nodded and went to wash his hands, he asked Punonin, "You didn't tell the Kremlin anything about the 'Two Mountains Campaign,' did you?"
Punonin said awkwardly, "I was just advising Your Excellency not to rush into action and to prepare first."
“He won’t listen to you.” Wang Xiao squeezed the hand sanitizer and slowly rubbed his hands together. “When domestic conflicts are mainly irreconcilable economic conflicts, the rulers will choose war to divert the people’s attention.”
After his attack on the White House last year, the president confidently promised that Russia's economic situation would improve within six months.
Now, more than a year has passed, what has improved?
The president's approval rating continues to decline.
He needs a war that showcases his strong, tough image, a war that reminds people of his heroic image during the August 19th coup in 1991, when he stood atop a tank and addressed the Muscovites.
Warm water flowed gurglingly, rinsing away the foam from Wang Xiao's hands.
She was overjoyed: "Thank goodness you haven't mentioned the two-mountain war yet, so your credibility in the Kremlin shouldn't be bankrupt yet."
Punonin was also washing his hands, still defending his theory of rotating troops between the two mountains: "I think it is possible. By rotating troops, we can train the army and maintain its fighting capacity, and we can wear down Chechnya and make it lose its ability to resist when it is exhausted."
The water was splashing loudly. Wang Xiao looked at his hands, which were covered in white foam, and really wanted to use a phrase from her pre-transmigration internet slang: "Brother, you don't have to treat them like Japanese people."
Have you even realized this? Chechens are Russians too.
She was too exhausted to complain anymore and simply shook her head: "Personally, I don't think this strategy will work against Chechnya. Because Vietnam is different from Chechnya."
She wiped her hands clean, tossed away the tissue, and explained, "Because Vietnam relies on agriculture and industry to develop its economy, it needs a large labor force. The prolonged state of war occupied its labor force and depleted its national wealth, which is why it was dragged down."
She posed the crucial question, "Is it the same as Chechnya?"
Ivanov covered his face in embarrassment.
Chechens are notorious for their bad reputation.
More than half of the Mafia in Moscow are Chechen gangs.
The situation is similar in the Chechen Republic.
Forging remittance slips, producing counterfeit currency under a semi-official guise, stealing petroleum products, robbing passing trains, taking hostages, and extorting ransoms are commonplace in Chechnya and are also the main source of funding for the Chechen army.
Trying to stop people from producing in such places is, to use a Chinese proverb, like taking off your pants to fart—completely unnecessary.
Punonin, this armchair strategist, finally showed an embarrassed expression.
Thank goodness, at the crucial moment, it was the housekeeper who saved him and invited everyone to the table for dinner.
Punonin looked at the scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stewed beef with potatoes, and vegetables with dipping sauce on the table, and reluctantly put up with it.
Well, it's not that he can't eat it.
In fact, his wife and children quite enjoy eating these things. Every weekend when they go to the suburbs to spend time, they go to a farm for a meal.
Punonin doesn't have the habit of eating rice, so he uses steamed buns as his staple food.
As he dipped the vegetables in the egg sauce, he asked quickly and quietly, "So what should we do?"
Once the words were out, the Slavs' strong sense of pride made him want to dig a hole and crawl into it.
Wang Xiao was stunned for a moment: "What do you mean, what should we do?"
Punonin couldn't continue speaking and just munched on the cucumber dipped in egg sauce.
The air was filled with the refreshing scent of cucumber juice.
Ivanov was the first to protest: "Hey! Vladimir, what are you talking about? The Queen has never been a soldier or fought in a war. At most, she has only fought off highway robbers."
Punonin finally swallowed the cucumber in his mouth and muttered, "I just said it offhand, I didn't ask anything."
Wang Xiao ignored him and continued mixing scrambled eggs with tomatoes into her rice.
To be honest, greenhouse vegetables always lack a bit of flavor in winter, but because tomato sauce is added, they still taste quite delicious.
She silently ate three spoonfuls of bibimbap before speaking: "If you really want to do something, my only suggestion is to change the commander, to replace him with an experienced veteran of the Red Army, who is more familiar with Dudayev's fighting style."
Punoning opened his mouth as if to speak, but she stopped him with a gesture.
"I guess you're probably referring to the Korean War, during which China did not employ captured Kuomintang generals who were more familiar with the United States."
Wang Xiao looked at Punonin and said calmly, "Because of the War of Liberation, the Communist Party was the victor. But you did not have that advantage. The Soviet Union's victory was achieved through peaceful evolution, not by you defeating the Soviet Red Army."
The food on the table was steaming hot, and whether it was scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stewed beef with potatoes, or egg sauce, it all exuded a rich aroma. Even the refreshing smell of vegetables filled the air.
Very tempting.
But at this moment, Punonin felt a tightness in his stomach from eating the vegetables with dipping sauce.
It felt as if a heavy slap had landed on his face, accusing him: You bunch of thieves, you've gotten your positions illegitimately.
Wang Xiao dipped a cabbage leaf in egg sauce and tasted its sweet and savory flavor.
She swallowed her words before speaking: "I know what you're worried about. You're afraid that the old Red Army soldiers will seize power, then stage a military coup, and overthrow the current government. But as I said before, you can't walk on three legs at the same time. If you want to resolve a conflict, you have to move that leg first."
Punonin didn't touch her plate. Instead, she abruptly started a new topic: "What about Taiwan? If you were to attack Taiwan, how would you do it?"
He felt that Chechnya's relationship with Russia was quite similar to Taiwan's relationship with China.
Wang Xiao was bewildered: "Vlamikil, have you forgotten who I am? I'm just a businessman, how would I know these things?"
These words broke the tax police major general's guard again.
Yes, she doesn't know and doesn't need to know.
While the Soviet Red Army was bogged down in the Afghan War, China was already using Vietnam to train its troops in batches.
Such an army has no need for an outsider to teach them how to fight.
To his utter embarrassment, this tax police officer, a former soldier, was actually asking her for advice on how to fight a war.
Wang Xiao had finished eating the bibimbap on her plate, put down her spoon, and wiped her mouth with a wet wipe.
As she tossed the wet wipe aside, she sighed, "At least the old Red Army soldiers knew to cherish the lives of their officers and soldiers. Even if they had no pity, they knew that these soldiers were the guarantee for their livelihood and their foothold."
Indeed, she now fully believes that the Chechen army's performance on the Russian-Ukrainian battlefield is truly impressive, not a sign of preserving strength or some other conspiracy; it may simply be their true level.
The image of the Chechens as a fighting nation was established through the Chechen wars of the 1990s.
The general consensus is that you must be incredibly capable to have routed the Russian army so thoroughly. Your strength is determined by the strength of your opponent.
After all, the Russian army inherited the foundation of the Soviet Red Army.
But in reality? All I can say is, "Heh heh."
Wang Xiao stood up, bowed slightly, and left the table ahead of time.
As she was leaving, she let out a soft sigh: "The most precious thing a person has is life, and everyone only has one life."
Just when Punonin thought she would continue reciting Pavel Korchagin's famous quote from "How the Steel Was Tempered," she changed the subject: "We Chinese have a saying that childbirth is like passing through the gates of death. Every child is brought into this world by their mother at the risk of her life. Every child is raised by their parents with great hardship."
The soft, silky light from the crystal chandelier draped over her, blurring her features.
Punonin could only hear her sigh: "Whose life isn't a life? They are living, breathing people, and their lives are not bargaining chips for politicians to use for a show."
The light flowed across the dining table, illuminating the tableware from Jingdezhen, China: the celadon porcelain floated in a deep blue under the crystal lamp, the mushroom soup in the lotus pond and swimming fish patterned bowl still exuded fragrance, and the edge of the peony-patterned covered bowl was outlined in cobalt blue.
The Hunan-style embroidered landscape on the ebony screen silently occupies its territory at the intersection of light and shadow, with the smoky blue mountains shimmering like crystals refracting sparkles like crushed diamonds.
Beside the silver candlestick, a few birch branches are inserted diagonally into a Longquan kiln plum vase, their slender twigs casting dappled shadows on the gilded screen.
There are so many traces of China in this typical Russian-style villa that even the air during the Lunar New Year carries a Chinese flavor.
This made Punoning's breathing heavy.
The slight scraping sound of the dining chair against the floor woke him up.
The tax police major general blurted out: "So have you ever worried? Have you ever worried that China will be peacefully transformed, like the Soviet Union?"
His voice softened as he uttered the last short sentence.
He had read some expert analyses that said the Russians couldn't manage either socialism or capitalism because the people on this land were xenophobic, extremely self-centered, and unwilling to listen to others.
However, the experts concealed a truth: people who are easily swayed by others are prone to losing themselves and becoming puppets of others.
Punonin's desire to turn Russia into another America does not mean he wants Russia to be manipulated by the United States.
However, once things begin, their subsequent development becomes difficult for the person who initiated them to control. As if they have their own lives, they will run rampant and develop in ways that the initiator could never have imagined.
"I mean, are you worried? Worried about cultural invasion and the peaceful evolution of China? You were instrumental in facilitating Michael Jackson's concerts in China; are you worried about the impact?"
Punonin looked at her and swallowed the rest of his words.
Just as I fear now, you, a Chinese, are influencing the entire Russian political arena and, consequently, Russia itself.
I will not allow Russia to become a puppet of China.
My God, what a crazy, terrible, and sad hypothesis this is.
China's current economic size is only average, not stronger than Russia's, and its military equipment and technological development level are also inferior to Russia's.
But the woman standing in front of him, with bright eyes, a resolute gaze, a clear goal, and an unwavering spirit, put immense pressure on him.
Her very existence signifies infinite hope and infinite possibilities.
Punonin couldn't help but be wary; geopolitics dictated that the sense of oppression from a powerful neighbor would always be greater than that from an enemy separated by mountains and seas.
"So are you worried?" he repeated. "Are you worried that China will repeat the same mistakes?"
Wang Xiao shrugged: "Vlamikl, I'm a businessman, not a government official. This isn't something I should be worried about."
“But you were the one who pushed this forward,” Punonin insisted. “You can’t just stand aside and say it’s none of my business.”
Wang Xiao rested his right elbow on his left palm and rubbed his forehead: "I'm a businessman, and I can only do business. I can roughly guess what you mean. You think that America influences the thinking of Chinese people through the influence of American culture. At the same time, American capital will create a large number of compradors in China, and these compradors will use their influence to sway China's national policies. Is that what you mean?"
Punonin opened his mouth, but couldn't find a more suitable way to say it, so he could only nod reluctantly.
"OK!" Wang Xiao didn't want to complicate the issue any further, so he focused on the matter at hand.
"That's right, all of these things could happen, and there's a high probability they will happen."
Punonin's pupils constricted as he stared at her in disbelief.
Although the businesswoman in front of him kept emphasizing that she was a capitalist, he could sense the inherent ruthlessness in her.
Otherwise, she and Ivanov, that naive and stubborn fool, wouldn't have been so in sync.
“Your understanding of capital is too superficial,” Wang Xiao shook his head. “The essence of capital is profit-seeking. Moreover, high school physics already tells us that forces are reciprocal.”
Wang Xiao shook his head. "You only see that after capital enters the Chinese market, it will create a large number of foreign compradors in China. You don't see the backlash that capital will have on the United States after making huge profits in the Chinese market. Let me put it this way—"
She gave an example: "It's like we have so many executives and employees, including singers and models. Whoever earns us the most money gets more preferential treatment."
Seeing that Punoning was still frowning, Wang Xiao had to explain to him in detail, "The same applies to the same market. Whichever market allows us to make more money, we will try our best to maintain it to ensure that we can make good money in that market."
She sighed, “You’ve been using a planned economy model to calculate market behavior. Capital can influence the government, and it won’t be immune just because it’s the United States or any other developed capitalist country. Capital has no borders; it only pursues profits, regardless of where those profits come from.”
She looked at Punoning under the lamplight.
To be honest, he looked much more haggard and aged than when I first met him.
It is clear that he was indeed working tirelessly for his country.
He was like a blindfolded donkey, endlessly circling the millstone.
“Vlamik, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve always been worried that I’m using you and Russia. But there’s a saying that’s crude but true: only those who are valuable will be used.”
Wang Xiao looked at Punoning, who had raised his eyes, and said, "If you expect others to help you, you have to offer tangible benefits. No one really cares about so-called trust and support."
She nodded slightly. "I still have work to do, so I'll go first. You can continue eating."
Ivanov quickly stood up as well: "Where are you going? I'll go with you."
“Nowhere, just in the study.” Wang Xiao turned to look at him. “I forgot to tell you, the Chemical Research Institute has developed a lithium battery and called today. The next step is to achieve mass production as soon as possible.”
Ivanov was immediately excited: "So fast? I thought it would take them at least a year or two."
After all, lithium batteries have only been commercialized internationally for a short time.
Wang Xiao laughed and said, "They were researching this back in the 1980s, but due to insufficient funding, they had to put it on hold until the final crucial step. Now that we have the need and are willing to provide funding, they are motivated to continue working on it."
The food on the table had gone cold; neither the stewed beef with potatoes nor the scrambled eggs with tomatoes emitted any fragrant heat.
Punonin didn't care, because he had long since lost his appetite. Even though fresh vegetables were very tempting in the Moscow winter, he had no interest in taking another bite.
He felt a surge of irritation and resentment: "What are you talking about?"
They were having a lively discussion when they abruptly pulled him out of the conversation.
It was as if the issues they had discussed were completely irrelevant and could be abandoned by them at any moment.
What he cares about is insignificant to them.
"Lithium batteries." Ivanov didn't even look up, busy flipping through the documents his assistant had brought him, faxed from the research institute.
Fortunately, he still considered Prononing a friend and offered some explanation: "Simple Cars currently use gasoline, which has many shortcomings. Our plan is to replace gasoline with lithium batteries to build low-speed electric vehicles. This will better meet the needs of its customers. Of course—"
Ivanov became excited and continued, "Besides low-speed electric vehicles, game consoles, laptops, and mobile phones all need lithium batteries. It's a huge market."
Punoning couldn't keep up with him because he knew nothing about lithium batteries and was unaware that they were about to change the world.
His anxiety turned into envy.
I'm so envious of those people standing by the screen, discussing things so enthusiastically, clearly knowing their goals.
Look, what are they all saying?
They envision their simple cars selling well worldwide. Once more factories enter the market and competition intensifies, they should rely on their advanced technology to produce electric vehicles. By controlling the price of electric vehicles, they can create a third path between simple cars and gasoline-powered cars.
They always had clear goals and knew exactly how to achieve them.
This is such an enviable thing.
Unfortunately, the feeling of envy only brought Punoning a moment of relief. Soon, even greater pressure resurfaced in his mind.
Compared to them, he was like a headless fly.
As he pushed away the plate in front of him, the sound of the spoon clattering against the porcelain made Wang Xiao look up and glance at him.
“Vlamikil, do what you do best,” she earnestly reminded him. “Intelligence work is your specialty; you shouldn’t give it up.”
Ivanov echoed her words: "Yes, Vladimir, don't think about going to the battlefield yourself. Otherwise, Lydia and the children will be heartbroken."
Why is my heart broken?
Because now he no longer dares to believe how strong Vladimir's military capabilities are, or how good he is at fighting.
Punonin also stood up, gave them both an annoyed look, and said curtly, "Did the information on the situation in Chechnya just fall from the sky?"
He told them so much, but was all this information revealed in newspapers and on television?
Without his intelligence channels, where would the battlefield information come from?
The two who received the eye-roll only felt awkward for less than a second before quickly regaining their composure.
Wang Xiao even nodded in approval: "Sir, you did the right thing. But that's not enough; you have to keep working hard. You can't just know what's happening; you also have to find ways to stop what's about to happen."
Punonin no longer wanted to pay attention to them. He put on his hat and scarf, then put on his gloves and left.
Wang Xiao and Ivanov exchanged a glance and shrugged.
Regardless of him, officials have their responsibilities, and businessmen have theirs; everyone should do their job.
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Good morning.
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