Chapter 387 Innocence is a Precious Quality: You Are the Devils
Wang Xiao refused to cooperate by providing them with information on the Communist Party of the Russian Federation and Gennady Zyuganov, as well as his speeches.
Ivanov offered a ready-made reason: "MTV is an entertainment channel, and we've never paid attention to anything related to the Communist Party of the Russian Federation. However, Governor Nemtsov filmed a program about us, and we have a lot of inside information, some really explosive."
Chubais has no time to care about Nemtsov's gossip.
Unable to count on MTV, he immediately contacted Arkady Yevstafiev, who was in Moscow.
The latter is the chief representative of Russian public television and previously served as a private advisor and media spokesperson for Chubais during its early privatization efforts.
Yura paced anxiously beside them, extremely dissatisfied with Wang Xiao and Ivanov's indifferent attitude, and angrily accused them: "Do you think it's funny that we're as anxious as ants on a hot pan?"
Wang Xiao didn't find it funny; she only felt sorrow. Indeed, ignorance breeds blind love.
But this feeling of sorrow is also a great blow to these two staunch liberal reformers.
Wang Xiao is a businessman by nature; he values harmony and making money, and he doesn't need to offend people easily.
Moreover, there was Chubais, who served as the Russian president's special envoy until the outbreak of the Russo-Ukrainian war, before their relationship soured.
Why would she want to provoke this political phoenix?
Wang Xiao shook his head without hesitation: "No, quite the opposite, I admire you very much."
She looked intently at Chubais, who was waiting for a fax from Moscow. “Sir, I admire you greatly. In China, there’s a saying, ‘At forty, one is no longer perplexed.’ People at forty have experienced the ways of the world and often see things more clearly and realistically. But to be able to maintain your passion and almost pure belief at such an age, to devote all your energy to a grand goal, regardless of everything, is an extremely rare and difficult thing.”
Her eyes were full of sincerity. “Seeing you reminds me of Mr. Sun, the great pioneer of the Chinese democratic revolution. After resigning from his position as the provisional president of China, he devoted himself to the 200,000-mile railway plan, hoping to obtain the right to build railways and the right to operate railways for 40 years from foreign capitalists in order to get them to pay for the completion of his railway construction plan within five to ten years.”
Chubais was a recognized intelligent man, and his knowledge was sufficient to avoid asking such a rude question as who Mr. Sun was.
But Wang Xiao didn't ask him. Instead, she took care of another guest in the room, well, maybe she could call him the host, but he wasn't one of her people.
“Guess—” she looked at Yura, “Did he secure the investment? Did he achieve his goals?”
Yura swore that he absolutely did not learn about Chinese history out of curiosity about what kind of country or culture could produce such a terrible woman as her.
He only read Chinese history books, especially modern history, out of the capitalist mindset of a politician, well, and the influence of Vladimir.
He not only knew Mr. Sun, but also clearly understood what a chaotic era Mr. Sun lived in was.
More importantly, he doesn't have the same bias towards China as he does towards Europe and America. He can make a rational and objective assessment: "No. The government he leads simply doesn't have the ability to control the whole country, and its promises to foreign businesses are likely to go down the drain."
Frankly, he felt that when this guy made that request, he seemed more like a conman trying to get something for nothing.
Fortunately, no foolish foreign businessman actually believed him, otherwise they would have lost everything.
Wang Xiao nodded: "Indeed, no foreign capitalists paid any attention to him. In 1912, when he first showed his plan to an American journalist, the latter thought he was crazy. Seven years later, he still did not change his mind and publicly published his railway plan, and was then criticized as Sun Yat-sen, a big talker."
Yura almost nodded on the spot, and even clapped and cheered.
Because everyone's reaction was so normal, no normal person would go crazy with him.
Wang Xiao then changed the subject: "So, is Mr. Sun ridiculous? Would his compatriots find him ridiculous?"
Yura was taken aback. He knew that Mr. Sun held a very high position in the hearts of the Chinese people and was once called the Father of the Nation.
His instincts as a government official made him subconsciously suppress his inner thoughts—it really was foolish and quite ridiculous.
“No!” Wang Xiao shook his head firmly. “We only think he is admirable and even a little cute. In the Chinese mindset, heroes are not judged entirely by success or failure. If a person dedicates himself purely to his ideals without considering gains or losses, then no matter the outcome, he is worthy of respect, just like Kuafu chasing the sun.”
She sighed softly, "Many times, revolutionaries are like Kuafu, who, for their sun and for everyone to have the sun, repeatedly hit walls and fell down, yet still managed to get up and keep charging forward."
"What is it that sustains them and keeps them from giving up? It is love, a love for their country and for humanity that is so pure that it is selfless; it is trust, a trust in what they believe in that is so pure that it is beyond question."
She looked intently at the two officials opposite her, "And pure love and trust intertwined together constitute innocence. Most people are changed by society, and only a very small number of people are determined to change society. And what supports them is this precious innocence."
She bowed slightly to the two of them, saying, "So please allow me to express my admiration for you."
Yura pressed on impatiently: "Then please join us. As you said, this is the sun we must chase."
But businessmen are only good at saying nice things.
Wang Xiao shook his head without hesitation: "No, I am a businessman. A businessman is not a reformer or a revolutionary. I cannot be naive. For the sake of my employees, I must be meticulous."
She nodded and said goodbye, "Bless you, my dear friends, good luck to you."
Ivanov also bowed, ready to follow at any moment.
Although Chubais is now in a state of decline, he still retains the lingering influence of the new Tsar who was once a leader in economic reforms, or rather, his pride from his former high position still allows him to maintain his dignity.
He didn't try to persuade her to stay, but instead returned Wang Xiao's greeting: "Thank you for your blessing and affirmation, beautiful lady."
Yura was not as composed as him. Even after Wang Xiao and Ivanov had left the room, he still chased after them and called out to Wang Xiao, "Wang, why did you stop? You were doing so well before."
Wang Xiao frowned slightly: "You know, I did it for Ivan."
“Then why can’t you do it for me now?” Yura blurted out.
He hadn't slept well for a long time. Since the Communist Party of the Russian Federation won a landslide victory in the State Duma elections last December, he had been tormented by insomnia. Whenever he closed his eyes, all sorts of terrible and terrifying images would come to him.
So after he said it, he realized his mistake and instinctively tried to smooth things over, "What I mean is, you can act for Ivan, and you can act for Vlamikil, so why can't you act for me? Aren't I your friend?"
Wang Xiao rolled her eyes inwardly.
Haha, bro, are you kidding me?
Firstly, I don't intend to actually sleep with you, so why should I bother trying to please you?
Secondly, what benefit would I gain from pleasing you and making plans for you? Is a beautiful woman's smile worth a thousand pieces of gold? You're overthinking it! What I want are tangible benefits.
However, when it comes to appearances, beauties always receive some preferential treatment from her.
For example, saving face for the other party.
Wang Xiao shook his head: "Then who am I helping by intervening? Does the person you're trying to help really need your help? Sense of boundaries—"
She emphasized the key point, reminding him, "Adults should maintain boundaries and not interfere in other people's affairs. Do you really want to help the person you're trying to help, or are you using them as a tool to achieve your own political goals?"
She lowered her voice, her eyes darting towards him, "And is he willing to be you, to be your tool?"
Yura's head exploded with a bang, as if the night in Davos had arrived early, and fireworks—no, firecrackers or even cannonballs—were bursting into the sky early.
He felt as if his entire body had been blown to pieces, and even his soul was drifting helplessly in the air.
When he came to his senses again, the space in front of him was empty.
Both the king and Ivan had left, leaving only the lingering fragrance in the air—a blend of cedar and jasmine.
Cedarwood scent is a perfume that Ivan often uses.
Jasmine? No, she rarely used perfume; she just often drank jasmine tea.
Yura clenched her fist tightly, threw a punch into the air, then turned around as if facing certain death, opened the door and went into the room.
He had no way out; as a Russian, he had no way out.
The Davos Forum has always emphasized the influence of culture on the world, most notably through an annual cultural gala hosted by a different country.
On the evening of February 2, 1996, the second day after the forum opened, Tunisia, the host of this year's forum, took the stage.
"Tunisian Night" introduced this small North African country to the world through the Davos Forum.
Wang Xiao isn't very good at geography. When North Africa is mentioned, her first thought is "Casablanca," also known as "Casablanca."
She really didn't remember Tunisia.
But that didn't stop her from taking Ivanov along to look at pictures and introductions of the local economic development, watch artisans demonstrate their crafts, buy some handmade woven items on the spot, and then enjoy a Mediterranean dinner while watching a song and dance performance full of Arabic flair.
The main focus is on enjoyment.
When Watanabe Taketa walked over with a wine glass, he saw this scene and couldn't help but feel envious: "Miss, you are truly the most carefree person I have ever met."
The Davos Forum is a major global economic event. This year, leaders from major Japanese companies such as Itochu, Mitsui, and Toyota attended Davos to share their insights on Japan's economic crisis and hopes with the world.
Taketa Watanabe, who is in charge of Mitsui's East Asia Affairs Department, also came along.
Wang Xiao looked at him strangely: "Is anyone here uncomfortable? You don't have to feel uncomfortable if you don't understand."
Watanabe Taketa was speechless. He was talking about Arabic dance, or rather, Tunisian dance?
"Russia! All businessmen who invest in Russia, all those who do business with Russia—no, more specifically, all those who do business in the former Soviet Union—cannot sit quietly and enjoy the song and dance performances."
Watanabe Taketa gave a wry smile. "Miss, you're truly unfazed even when Mount Tai collapses on your face. My heart is pounding like a drum. If the Russian Communist Party makes a comeback, will the Ukrainian Communist Party be next? Will the communist parties in all the CIS countries, Hungary, Romania, and even Poland, and so on, return to power?"
The thought of the world map being covered in large swaths of red again made his heart bleed.
Wang Xiao chuckled: "What are you afraid of? Watanabe-kun, even if the Communist Party of the Russian Federation comes to power, our Mr. Zyuganov said that he is the most peace-loving person on this earth."
Watanabe Taketa couldn't take it anymore.
Well, he doesn't mutter to himself that women are easily swayed by others, because he knows perfectly well that the woman in front of him is anything but soft-hearted and will stop at nothing to achieve her goals.
What he can't stand now is: "Miss Wang, you Chinese people always view the Soviet Union and Russia through a filter, a beautiful, imagined lens. Don't listen to what Zyuganov says now; what will happen in the future? It's really hard to say."
He has successfully persuaded the group to reach a new cooperation agreement between Mitsui and Goshu in Siberia.
But he knew that his fate was also tied to Mitsui's projects in Russia. If they suffered a major blow from the Russian Communist Party, his future in the group would be over.
So how could he not be anxious?
Seeing Zyuganov chatting and laughing, and being surrounded by reporters and business tycoons, Taketa Watanabe felt as if the snowstorm in Davos was a blazing fire, roasting him from all sides.
Wang Xiao laughed out loud again.
It seems that the damage to national memory caused by the Soviet Union's attacks on Japan during World War II was no less than that caused by the United States.
"Are you talking about me?" Zyuganov, a social butterfly, walked over to Wang Xiao and the others with his wine glass in hand, smiling and striking up a conversation. "I think I heard my name mentioned."
He was tall and strong, with thinning gray hair and a smiling face, looking like a kind and amiable person.
But as soon as he got close, Watanabe Taketa felt as if all the fires in Davos had gone out, and he was instantly surrounded by the Siberian snowstorm, as if he were digging potatoes with a shovel in his hand.
Wang Xiao glanced at Mitsui's soon-to-be senior executive with a smile. Poor Watanabe, his hair must have stood on end.
She smiled and nodded slightly to Zyuganov: "Yes, Chairman Zyuganov, we are discussing what changes will occur in Russia's economic policy if the Communist Party of the Russian Federation comes to power?"
She half-jokingly asked, "Will you start by targeting us foreigners to celebrate your victory?"
"Of course not." Zyuganov looked at Wang Xiao. "Chinese?"
Seeing the other party nod, he relaxed even more. "Not long ago, I visited China. In Shanghai, I saw many interesting things. If the Chinese development model holds true, then the development of Russia under our leadership will be an opportunity for us to correct our mistakes."
He wasn't worried that the Chinese people would have a negative reaction to him; their shared ideology would naturally make them feel favorably toward him.
Therefore, his main focus during this conversation was on Taketa Watanabe.
Good heavens! The Japanese standing there, you can tell they're Japanese at a glance.
He smiled at Watanabe Taketa: "So please don't worry, sir. You can invest in the US and China just as easily as you invest in Russia. The Communist Party of the Russian Federation will not nationalize the companies again."
Watanabe Taketa had no interest in listening to what he was saying.
He felt like there was a bear standing next to him, a Russian brown bear, which looked cute but could tear him to pieces in the next second.
He nodded reluctantly, his smile extremely stiff: "Really? Sir, that's wonderful."
If this were a cartoon, his soul would have already escaped his body.
Wang Xiao almost burst out laughing.
Zyuganov sensed the other party's resistance but wanted to press on and show his friendliness.
But he was a celebrity, a celebrity at this year's Davos Forum, and soon reporters came up to him, expressing their desire to interview the future president of Russia.
Zyuganov smiled and thanked them for their blessings, nodded to Wang Xiao and the others, and then took his wine glass to the side to give an interview.
When Zyuganov came over just now, Ivanov moved aside slightly to avoid unnecessary trouble.
Even though they had distanced themselves, he could clearly feel Watanabe Taketa breathe a heavy sigh of relief.
It seems that the Soviet Red Army's sense of oppression towards the Japanese invaders was deeply ingrained.
He also took the opportunity to sigh to Wang Xiao, "China is just too easy to talk to, so easily giving up the glory and status that the victor deserves. Petty people fear power but not virtue!"
Wang Xiao gave a forced smile: "If Huaxia were difficult to talk to, do you think we could still sit down and have a proper chat?"
The person who had been smug for less than a second instantly became docile and tried to sell in a flattering manner: "Want to try some Brek? I think it's a bit like fried spring rolls, not bad."
Wang Xiao glanced at him sideways, then opened her mouth and took a bite.
It's actually pretty good.
Tropical regions have a rich variety of plant species, and if people are willing to develop them, the probability of creating delicious food is still higher than in colder regions.
Wang Xiao ate a Blek and wondered if he should have another one.
Yura, like an elusive NPC, rushed over once again.
He grabbed Ivanov's arm, leaving no room for argument: "Ivanov, you have to come with me now."
Ivanov sighed, "God, what are you trying to do now? I don't dare count on your help, but can you please stop holding me back? Can't you see we're socializing, we're busy trying to get orders?"
But this time, Yura, with bloodshot eyes, didn't even bother to make up an excuse and dragged him away.
Ivanov had no choice but to turn back and ask Wang Xiao for help.
The latter simply rolled his eyes and followed along with a helpless expression.
What could she do? Let Ivan and Yura fall out?
That's obviously impossible.
No matter how useless or merely decorative, Yura was Ivanov's childhood friend.
Before the “Tunisian Night” had even ended, Chubais’s room was already eerily quiet.
The oligarchs, sitting together, all had solemn and stern expressions.
Well, most of the seven or eight people present had already completed a leap in their assets during the privatization in the second half of 1995, and were qualified to be called oligarchs.
Berezovsky visibly relaxed when he saw the person enter.
But the next second, the heavy pressure in his heart made his smile disappear.
“Ivan, you’ve finally arrived.” He took a deep breath, his expression like someone on the execution ground. “Just now, Mr. Soros warned me, warned us, that we’re doomed. Once Zyuganov comes to power, he will hang the Kremlin president, he will hang all of us. And that’s very likely to happen. Mr. Soros advised us to run for our lives.”
Wang Xiao casually found a chair and sat down.
Wow, Mr. Soros, this financial tycoon, is quite an interesting character.
He had previously refused to invest in Berezovsky, which prevented Berezovsky from raising enough money to participate in the Siberian Oil Company's auction.
Now he's playing the good guy again, patiently and earnestly planning Berezovsky's future.
He truly deserves to be called a renowned philanthropist!
Ivanov leaned against her, meeting Berezovsky's intense gaze, and replied, "So?"
"Therefore we must expose Zyuganov's true colors!"
NTV's boss, Gusinski, frowned. "I overheard his conversation with the president of the Swiss bank, and it was typical KGB propaganda. He knows what they want to hear, and he goes along with what they say, without telling a single word of truth."
Another man beside him raised his fist: "That's right, exactly! Communist liars! This is their specialty. Ivan, we have to expose him and completely crush the Communists!"
Wang Xiao stood up abruptly: "Excuse me, gentlemen, I think I've come to the wrong place. This is not where I should be."
Berezovsky tried to dissuade her: “No, no, no, Miss Wang, this is a great cause, a vital cause, concerning the future of Russia and the fate of all mankind. You should participate, you must participate.”
Wang Xiao felt it was absurd: "Are you kidding me? Mr. Berezovsky, what am I supposed to be involved in?"
The light blond-haired man sitting next to the coffee table said sarcastically, "Gentlemen, you've got it wrong. She really shouldn't be involved. She's a Communist Party member herself. She was just chatting and laughing with Zyuganov. She's Chinese, and she's more eager than anyone for Zyuganov to come to power!"
"What do you mean? Sir, as a smart person, you shouldn't say such foolish things! If I am Chinese, then everyone here—"
She pointed around and asked, "Who has a British passport? Who has an Israeli passport? Are you sitting here representing the interests of Russia, or the interests of Britain and Israel?"
In the 1990s, most of Russia's oligarchs were Jewish.
The man with light blond hair blushed and said, "This is not the same thing..."
"alright!"
He was interrupted with a "bang" before he could finish speaking.
Yura slammed his fist on the table, his face grim. "You're always arguing and arguing, endlessly arguing! Why were the Communists able to make a comeback? Because they are more united than us and don't waste their time on pointless quarrels."
He's really had enough, enough of these Russians.
They're always arguing, even over the smallest things.
Why hasn't the privatization process ended yet? It's because they're arguing endlessly, and the work schedule is so badly delayed that it's impossible to move forward.
His gaze was sinister, and he was shrouded in darkness, except for his face, which was gleaming white: "Are you going to keep arguing? Are you only satisfied when the Communist Party hangs us all under the streetlights?"
Silence fell over the room.
Wang Xiao had no intention of enduring this with them, and turned to leave: "I'm sorry, gentlemen, I cannot participate in the slander of the Communist Party. We Chinese have a saying: 'To eat from a bowl and then curse the cook' is the most shameful thing. I cannot be a traitor, a traitor to my country. Goodbye, everyone!"
With that, she resolutely turned around.
Yura hurriedly stood up, not caring that her knee had hit the coffee table, and stumbled to stop her: "No, Your Majesty, I have to tell you the truth. The Russian Communist Party and you are not the same thing, and the Soviet Red Army and your People's Liberation Army are even less the same thing."
His voice was rapid, as if afraid Wang Xiao wouldn't give him a chance to continue, rattling like a machine gun, "Your People's Liberation Army can sleep in apple orchards, and no matter how hungry or thirsty they are, they won't eat a single apple. When your People's Liberation Army entered Shanghai, the bustling and prosperous city, they slept on the streets without disturbing the residents. The Soviet Red Army was different!"
He looked ashamed because his ancestors were Soviet Red Army soldiers, and his grandfather was a Soviet general.
But now he has to expose the true face of the Soviet Red Army.
"They raped countless local women in Northeast China, in Berlin, Germany, across the European continent, and in every place they could reach. They gang-raped and mutilated them, doing no less than the Japanese devils you hate."
He was over 1.85 meters tall, and standing in front of Wang Xiao, he looked like a gloomy mountain.
The light cast a shadow over Wang Xiao, whose face was deathly pale. He covered his ears and his voice was shrill and desperate: "Stop! Don't say anymore!"
The other oligarchs, fearing she wouldn't believe them, emphasized, "Madam, what he said is true. This is the Red Army, the terrible Soviet Red Army. They are not human; they are a bunch of horrible demons!"
"Shut up!" Ivanov roared, grabbing his trembling girlfriend and glaring at the people in the room with eyes blazing with fury. "You are the real devils, willing to intimidate an innocent woman like this to achieve your goals."
He put his arm around her and led her outside, constantly comforting her, "Darling, don't be afraid, we'll go out, we won't stay here."
Yura instinctively tried to stop him: "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to scare you."
He hadn't expected the king's reaction to be so intense.
In his subconscious, if the same thing happened to him, Wang would definitely kill them all.
As for how a weak woman like her could kill those beasts, he didn't know either.
All he knew was that she absolutely could do it. This terrifyingly powerful woman would do it at any cost.
But Ivanov, as her protector, was no longer willing to give his friend any chance to explain: "Get out of the way! What else do you want to do? Don't you think you've gone too far? Do you want to become the devil yourself before you can defeat the devil in your eyes?"
Yura's arm fell limply to her side, and she could only watch helplessly as her friend left with Wang in his arms.
He seems to have messed everything up again.
But now, what about Russia that hasn't been messed up?
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[Fanfan] Good morning! I've been really busy lately, I worked overtime again last night.
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