Chapter 402 Trying to PUA me? (Bug Fix): Are you qualified?
Despite the complaints, since Yura was already in a desperate situation, Wang Xiao and Ivanov had to give him some face.
As for Watanabe Taketa, he felt no resentment at being left behind.
Having seen this news, how big of a heart does Watanabe-kun have to continue drinking sake and eating Wagyu beef?
On the contrary, the Wagyu beef in his stomach is making him feel uncomfortable.
He wondered if he should retract his previous confidence in the Russian president; after all, even the strongest leader can't withstand a bunch of incompetent people below him.
Watanabe Taketa left looking worried, completely ignoring Wang Xiao's attempts to comfort him.
Seriously, he's had enough.
Every time he thinks Russian politics is hopeless, they can immediately demonstrate what it means to be even more hopeless.
I really don't understand how this country manages to occupy such a large territory and so many good resources.
Wang Xiao couldn't stay with him and keep comforting him, so she had to say goodbye to Sayonara, turn around and get in the car with Ivanov, and drive all the way to the Sparrow Mountain Club.
It is now recognized as one of the most upscale clubs in Moscow, and those gathered here are all newly emerging oligarchs.
The sun had already set, dusk was falling, and the chill of late winter still lingered stubbornly in the air. The sky was a somber hue, a mixture of gray-blue and purplish-red.
After seeing this, Wang Xiao discussed with Ivanov how to work around the palette to achieve such a color.
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao, listening nearby, were practically on the verge of tears. The boss was incredibly calm; the Kremlin was practically overthrown by the Russian Communist Party, and the president was just short of being dragged out and whipped, yet the boss remained completely unfazed.
The two discussed it for a long time, but couldn't come to a conclusion. Meanwhile, the last faint ray of sunset struggled to sink below the horizon, casting long, distorted shadows of the sparse trees in the distance.
Wang Xiao could only sigh regretfully, get out of the car, and walk away.
Contrary to popular belief, the Queshan Club is not a particularly conspicuous building. Similar villas are not uncommon in Queshan, dating back to the Soviet era.
Oh, back then, this hillside, which was only 220 meters above sea level, was named Lenin Hills.
If there's anything special about the club, it's that it's surrounded by a gray wall, and only the most luxurious cars in Moscow come and go.
If you're a luxury car enthusiast looking for a place to admire your favorites, this is a great spot. There are always one or two days each week when luxury cars are constantly appearing here.
Of course, this is on the premise that the person lying in wait is not spotted by the villa's guards; otherwise, what awaits him or her is likely to be the dark muzzle of a gun.
However, upon seeing Wang Xiao and the others, the leading guard politely nodded to her and greeted them, "Miss Wang, Mr. Ivanov, you've arrived."
Wang Xiao nodded and smiled at them, and politely said, "Thank you for your hard work," before stepping inside.
Unlike the freezing weather outside, the villa was warm and cozy. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the towering dome, illuminating the hall as if it were daytime.
Berezovsky and Gusinsky were standing in the hall near the room door, smoking cigars and talking.
Upon seeing Wang Xiao, Berezovsky immediately reached out to greet her: "Miss Wang, you've arrived. Oh, my dear Ivan, you're a rare guest indeed."
Wang Xiao waved to him and asked, "Where's Yura? Where is Yura?"
Berezovsky looked left and right, and even turned to ask the waiter carrying the tray, who shook his head. Berezovsky shook his head as well: "It was just here a moment ago, I don't know where it went now."
Wang Xiao wasn't in a hurry. He took two glasses of kvass from the plate and handed them to himself and Ivanov: "Let's wait for him to come over."
It was Yura who was in a hurry to find them, not the other way around. There was nothing to be anxious about.
When Wang Xiao heard the sound of the billiard balls hitting the table, he even ran curiously to the billiard room next door.
The waiter who was tidying up the pool table inside saw her face, immediately ran outside, brought in an air purifier, and plugged it in.
Miss Wang is known for being unpicky; she has no complaints about drinks, main courses, or snacks.
There's one thing she cares about a lot: air quality. She likes fresh air and hates the smell of smoke.
The air purifier was working hard, whirring away, while Wang Xiao picked up his golf club, eager to try his hand at hitting the ball.
She can play billiards, but her skill level is very low; she mainly just lets the ball roll around on the table.
After a few rounds, even Ivanov couldn't stand it anymore. He went up behind her, took her hand, and taught her how to adjust the angle.
Hey, don't be so sure! The title of playboy isn't just for show; not just anyone can be called a playboy.
With that adjustment, he actually managed to pocket a red ball.
Wang Xiao was overjoyed and immediately started shouting "Oh oh!" in celebration.
The half-open door to the activity room was pushed open, and a large group of people stood at the door, led by Yura.
He saw the two people around the pool table, and his vision went black for a moment. He let out a helpless growl: "God! You guys still have the mind to play pool?"
Ivanov bent down to strike the ball, helping Wang Xiao adjust its position so that she could pocket it on her own in the next shot.
He looked up in confusion when the billiard balls made a crisp clinking sound as they collided: "What's wrong? Can't we play billiards anymore?"
"It's complete chaos outside!" Yura exclaimed, unable to contain herself any longer. "Go out on the street and ask anyone how they view the federal government, the Kremlin, and the president. Crisis! This is a terrible crisis, a crisis that will drag us all into hell!"
Wang Xiao thought that the Russian hell must be quite busy.
She had heard countless times from Yura that Russia was going to be dragged into hell.
Ivanov shrugged: "That wasn't our fault."
A voice came from the doorway, tinged with resentment: "If it weren't for those left-wing newspapers, things wouldn't have blown up like this!"
Wang Xiao was bending over, trying to find the right angle to hit the ball, when he heard the voice, he straightened up, holding the club with both hands, and stared straight at the person who spoke.
It was Khodorkovsky.
He has disliked Wang Xiao and Ivanov ever since the Yukos incident.
However, Wang Xiao knew perfectly well that among the well-dressed nouveau riche present, how many of them actually liked her?
A woman who intrudes into their world, an East Asian woman who wants a piece of the pie, is someone they hate and dislike, regardless of her purpose, her gender, or her race.
But so what?
She loves the way they hate her but can't get rid of her, and in the end they have to obediently follow her orders and do her work.
Wang Xiao let out a mocking laugh, raising his chin without any attempt to hide his sarcasm: "Oh? Mr. Khordokovsky, are you saying you blame me?"
It was she who proposed opening up left-wing newspapers so that the reformists and conservatives of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation would have a platform to argue.
Yura instinctively denied it: "How could that be? The newspaper issue was a decision we made together..."
Khordowski's face twitched, and he was about to speak when, with a "bang," the pool table erupted into chaos.
Ivanov slammed his cue down hard, sending the billiard balls crashing and clattering across the table, startling everyone.
His face was grim, and his eyes blazed as he glared at the crowd at the door: "How interesting! When the Russian Communist Party was making a huge fuss in the newspapers and splitting into two camps, no one praised the King's brilliant ideas. Now, where do you get the nerve to pin the blame on the King for someone else's mistake? Did the King make such a basic error?"
Yura was startled by the noise. Hearing Ivanov openly criticize Deputy Prime Minister Soskovets, fearing he would offend someone, she quickly stepped forward to try to appease him: "Ivanov, he's just too anxious, that's not what he meant."
Ivanov's anger flared even more: "That's not what I meant! What did I mean? Did we owe anyone? We paid the same amount of money, and as for the work, apart from Wang, you all sent your assistants and deputies. And now? The people who did the work are always blamed?"
He sarcastically remarked, "You keep saying you want to destroy everything from the Soviet Union. But in reality, you've been carrying on and expanding upon its dregs. The guilty ones are always the ones who do the work. Those who do the work not only have to clean up other people's messes, but also take the blame for them. Great! Very good!"
Berezovsky hadn't expected Ivanov's reaction to be so strong, and quickly stepped in to smooth things over: "Ivanov, you've misunderstood..."
"What misunderstanding have I made?" Ivanov sneered. "If it's not the King's fault, then whose fault is it? Deputy Prime Minister Soskovets?"
Berezovsky was deeply embarrassed: "He has his difficulties too. Time is tight, and the workers are not cooperating. God! I'm afraid that there won't be enough voters."
Although Chubais is their political investment target, no one can guarantee that he will be able to return to a high position smoothly after the presidential election.
It's best to avoid offending veteran officials like Soskowitz if possible.
Ivanov ignored his concerns and retorted, "If the railway workers aren't cooperating with the vote, shouldn't we give them small gifts to thank them for their cooperation? Why not just give them lighters?"
“They don’t have that much funding,” Berezovsky felt he should be fair. “Where would they get the funding for millions of lighters?”
"Why don't you print ads on the lighters?" Ivanov said impatiently. "Use advertising fees to offset the cost of the lighters."
Berezovsky smiled wryly: "Ivan, not everyone is as good at business as you."
Indeed, his first reaction was to seek sponsorship, rather than using advertising to offset costs.
Ivanov remained irritated: "Don't you know to ask someone for help? Since when does it become acceptable to just dabble in something you can't do?"
Footsteps sounded outside the billiard room. Chubby, looking hurried, poked his head in with a puzzled look: "Ladies and gentlemen, what are you discussing? I think perhaps we can sit down and talk about it slowly."
"No need." Wang Xiao threw down his cue stick, slamming it against the table, causing the billiard balls, which had finally calmed down, to scatter wildly again, creating a complete mess.
She smiled slightly, "We thought we were called here to deal with the farce, to disband the unnecessary team, and to make it clear that we are the president's only campaign team."
Chubais remained silent, but that was precisely why he had come.
As long as Soskowitz remains in power, the president's position remains awkward. If Soskowitz isn't ousted, even if the president is re-elected, who will take the credit? And will the president even be able to return to the White House?
Yura was taken aback upon hearing this and instinctively said, "Your Majesty, what we need now is unity, not division."
Although Deputy Prime Minister Soskowets botched the primaries, it wasn't intentional, and he shouldn't be disqualified for that. If everyone acted like that, who would dare to do anything?
Wang Xiao laughed in exasperation: "Love and peace, huh? Now you're eating from the same pot? Tsk, obviously I'm not getting any of this food!"
Her icy gaze swept across the faces of the tycoons, her smile chilling. "Gentlemen, you're so eager to pin the blame on me, aren't you just trying to make me feel guilty, so I'll step in to clean up your messes, and be grateful to you for your leniency and give me a chance to redeem myself?"
Although the term PUA has only been around for a few years, the practice of PUA has existed since the dawn of humanity.
To put it bluntly, the tycoons were afraid that if she performed too well in the presidential election, she would get the largest share when it came time to divide the spoils—or, to divide the pork—so they suppressed her in advance so that she would work willingly but be too embarrassed to ask for payment.
Ha! Just like any pot needs a lid.
As soon as the Communist Party of the Russian Federation saw that Zyuganov had a chance of being elected, the party began to stir up trouble.
They, along with the tycoons of the Queshan Club, are truly a formidable force. Aren't they currently busy making her feel utterly apprehensive?
It must be said that the two sides are evenly matched as rivals.
"What?" Wang Xiao admired their chameleon-like faces, a half-smile on her face. "You think you can slap a label of supporting a left-wing newspaper on me and make this woman from red Beijing tremble with fear and desperately try to clear her name because of the charge of 'collaboration with the Communists'? You think you're so clever by using the reverse of the Soviet Union's methods that you despise the most?"
ridiculous!
No wonder most of the tycoons present didn't have good endings after the turn of the millennium. Just because a pig can fly in a favorable wind doesn't mean it can actually fly.
Berezovsky, as the founder of the Queshan Club, considered himself the owner and quickly took two steps forward, giving Wang Xiao a wry smile: "Miss Wang, it's a misunderstanding, it's really a misunderstanding. I swear to God, no one would think that way."
"Whatever!" Wang Xiao shrugged and spread his hands. "I don't care about your tricks. In Moscow, it's either you sit at the table or you sit at the table; there's no such thing as a loving family. But I still want to advise you gentlemen to be a little more careful when you use tricks, like laying the groundwork or something, so you don't reveal your hand all at once. I've always thought you were all smart people."
Chubais, unusually stern, warned the tycoons: "Gentlemen, if you have any complaints about the work of the electoral commission, you can say so directly, instead of doing this."
He doesn't care about the power struggles among the tycoons, but he absolutely cannot allow them to ruin his campaign.
This is the only way for him to return to politics and realize his political ambitions.
Berezovsky had no choice but to apologize, forcing himself to do so: "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, whatever the reason, it's our fault for upsetting you. Gentlemen, please show some gentlemanly manners."
Tsk, look at this textbook example of forgiving and apologizing.
Although I don't know what I did wrong, I'm not going to argue with you.
"No need," Wang Xiao waved his hand. "Goodbye, everyone. Since you think I'm being too prominent, then let you take the spotlight. I sincerely hope you can turn the tide and leave a significant mark on the history of public relations worldwide."
As she spoke, Ivanov had already helped her put on the coat she had taken off when she entered, put his arm around her shoulder, gave a quick nod to everyone as a greeting, and then left.
The billiard room fell into a deathly silence. Some people looked around, clearly not expecting that Wang and Ivan would leave no room for maneuver whatsoever.
Chubais immediately broke the silence: "Gentlemen, you have done something very unwise."
He was fed up with the arrogance of the oligarchs who considered themselves their financial backers, even though he was the one who could manipulate the fate of everyone present.
Now, he doesn't care how they clean up the mess; his focus is on how to take this opportunity to defeat Soskowitz and lay the foundation for his return to the White House.
Berezovsky frowned and complained to Khodorkovsky, "God, why did you say that right from the start? You could..."
“What’s said is said, can we take it back?” Khodorkovsky twirled his Patek Philippe watch, his face grim. “Don’t worry, they’re more afraid of the Communist Party coming to power than any of us. Don’t forget, they took over Siberian Oil Company and the Surgut oil field in one fell swoop at the equity mortgage auction.”
It is precisely because the Wuzhou Group has already swallowed the fattest piece of meat that they cannot tolerate the fact that, after the election, when rewards are distributed, they will receive the largest share again.
Is it meaningful to talk about something that everyone tacitly understands now?
"Didn't you all remain silent and object?"
Berezovsky's face turned red and blue, and sweat beaded on his nose: "You really are!"
What was it? He didn't say, only muttering, "It shouldn't have gotten this bad, God! I need to explain things to Ivan."
Yura couldn't hear their blame-shifting anymore. He chased after Wang Xiao and Ivanov all the way to the door, desperately explaining, "Ivanov, Wang, please believe me, I really don't know why they suddenly went crazy."
"You don't know anything?" Wang Xiao turned to look at him. "You know nothing and yet you dare to meddle? Who gave you the courage? Vodka?"
Yura's face turned a deep purplish-red, and he stammered, "I didn't drink any alcohol, really, I didn't even have a drop of kvass today."
"Oh." Wang Xiao raised his eyebrows, speaking sarcastically, "Then I should praise you, you're such a good kid."
The bodyguards collectively tried to recall the saddest things in their lives, afraid that they might burst into laughter.
If it were in the past, Yura, that proud and arrogant person, would definitely have turned on her right then and there.
But now, seeing Wang Xiao made him feel guilty. Not only did he not dare to get angry, but he also had to plead in a low voice: "Ivan, Wang, I beg you, now we have to put aside all our grudges and stand together. Look, Gusinsky had such a falling out with Berezovsky before, Gusinsky was even on the Kremlin's blacklist, and now he's also working hard for the president's re-election. We..."
“Yura!” Wang Xiao was about to get into the car when she couldn’t help but turn around and look at him seriously. “I remember I once told you to keep your boundaries and never meddle in other people’s business.”
Good heavens! She was at her wits' end, how could this person be so stubborn?
But imagine decades later, when the Russian Minister of Agriculture confidently declares at a conference that he will export pork to Brunei, only to be reminded by his president that Brunei is an Islamic country and does not eat pork.
Now, looking at Yura's brain as mere decoration, she doesn't find it strange at all.
After all, different places nurture different people. Perhaps this place is more suited to producing writers, artists, and scientists, but not to producing political minds.
She patiently reminded him, "Are you the one who caused the trouble? If not, why are you in such a hurry? Did Mr. Soskowitz ask you for help? Did he earnestly and plead with you for help? No! So why are you rushing to help?"
Yura was still in a daze: "But..."
"No buts." Wang Xiao's face turned cold. "Do you think you're Timur? No, you think the people who need help will only think you're meddling and are deliberately trying to make a fool of themselves. The premise of uniting all forces that can be united is that they can be united."
She slammed the car door shut and snapped at Ivanov, "What are you standing there for? Let's go!"
The reason she was able to ramble on for so long was because, in the billiard room earlier, although Yura was completely clueless and didn't understand anything, she still defended her face the moment Khodorkovsky criticized her.
If she still couldn't wake him up, she couldn't be bothered to bother anymore.
"You can't make a sale by rushing things." How could a high-ranking government official not understand such a basic principle?
Sigh, she didn't even know how to sigh anymore.
Ivanov also wanted to sigh.
After returning to the shopping street, Berezovsky made several phone calls, but the calls were all rejected.
This guy is making the same old mistake again; he can't keep his temper in check. His cleverness backfired, and he needs to learn a lesson.
When Ivanov received a call from Punonin just before going to bed that night, he felt even more like sighing.
Punonin wanted to smile even more bitterly than he did: "Listen, Ivan, I know they're a bunch of idiots and bastards, but the Communist Party won't let this opportunity pass. They were on the defensive, and Zyuganov's approval rating was declining. Now that they've finally got a chance, they'll definitely hold on tight and completely destroy the Kremlin."
Wang Xiao gestured directly to Ivanov, took the microphone, and said bluntly, "What's the rush? Vladimir, don't catch Yura's indiscriminate kindness. Whoever caused the trouble should clean it up themselves."
She couldn't help but complain, "Honestly, you should really keep an eye on Yura. With him like this, he's being used as a pawn all the time. He won't even know how he died."
Punonin thought to himself, "I'd love to teach too. But how easy is it to teach something like this?"
If it weren't for your relationship with Ivan, I would have packed Yura up and given her to you, just like you'd been keeping a gigolo.
Of course, this couldn't be said aloud, so Punonin wisely skipped that part, only sighing, "If the troublemaker could clean up the mess, it wouldn't have happened in the first place."
"It's fine."
Wang Xiao spoke calmly, looking out the window. Tonight was the waxing crescent moon.
Under the thin moonlight, the red star of the Kremlin still shines silently, like a lonely firefly, or an eye that cannot close, overlooking this city that is constantly being torn apart by hope and disillusionment, fanaticism and indifference, the burden of history and the struggle of reality.
Her voice was like it was being soaked in cold water: "If they can't handle it, there's still the Queshan Club. I believe our all-powerful tycoons will definitely be able to turn things around."
Punonin wanted to force a bitter smile: "Your Majesty, it's too late. We can't wait for them to take their time. We must come up with an effective countermeasure by tomorrow at the latest."
Wang Xiao laughed out loud: "No rush. If it were really that urgent, they wouldn't just ask you to be their intermediary. Really, Vladimir, I know my place. I'm not that important."
A sigh came from the other end of the phone: "I'm just afraid they don't understand what's important and what's urgent. Because of you, they've been winning all along, so they mistakenly think everything is going smoothly. By the time it's truly irreversible, it will be too late."
Wang Xiao chuckled: "Oh, if that's the case, then so be it! Goodnight, dear Flamigil, may you, Lydia, and your child have sweet dreams."
With that, she hung up the phone without hesitation.
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao exchanged bewildered glances. Could it be that the boss was truly enraged and had simply abandoned the project? Would the boss really act so impulsively?
To be honest, even as bodyguards observing from the sidelines, they found these people incredibly annoying. They were completely useless, a hindrance to the team, and ungrateful wretches who didn't know what was good for them.
But then again, if they really don't care and the Communist Party of the Russian Federation comes to power, will the boss still be able to do business in Moscow?
Tsk, don't let their wistful expressions fool you when they talk about Big Brother. As veterans, if Big Brother really came back, they might have to re-enlist to ensure the country has enough manpower. A million troops are stationed on the northern border.
Oh, this is really worrying.
Unfortunately, bosses don't have to worry. They can brush their teeth and wash their face, get a foot massage, and go to bed when they need to.
And he slept soundly until dawn.
She opened her eyes, and Lyuba quickly came over and whispered, "Ms. Tyachenko has arrived."
Wang Xiao stretched and mentally gave her a thumbs up. "Great, she actually managed to stay up all night. It shows that the president's youngest daughter has a pretty good mental fortitude."
She pushed back the covers and lazily got up: "Could you please tell her to wait a moment, and she'll leave after tidying up a bit?"
If we want her to get things done, then we need someone with enough influence.
The president's daughter, his most beloved youngest daughter, a Russian princess who could bypass all obstacles and reach the emperor directly, was the lobbyist she was waiting for.
This princess was the one who accompanied Deputy Prime Minister Soskowets to the Ministry of Railways to organize the presidential primary. She personally collected 50% of the votes.
When the matter was publicized in the newspapers, the one who was truly embarrassed was actually her.
Because she was a political newcomer, she messed up her first important job.
She needs immediate remedial action.
See, why rush to do things? Your value is demonstrated when others come to you and ask for your help.
Only valuable relationships can build a genuine network of connections.
The political landscape in Russia is ever-changing, with each new emperor bringing a new court. If one doesn't update their network of relationships in time, their former backers may have already turned into empty shells.
The most stable relationship between people is always based on mutual benefit.
Wang Xiao quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face, then hurriedly walked out while drying her face with a towel. When she saw Tyachenko outside, she tossed the towel to her assistant, looking surprised at the president's daughter who looked haggard: "Darling, what's wrong? Why did you come so early?"
Good heavens, look at this anxious lady.
Given her status and Russian social etiquette, her dark circles were impossible to conceal, and her eye bags were practically hanging on her cheekbones. To go out to meet guests like that was simply an act of unkempt appearance; it was clear that her anxiety was burning like a raging fire.
Tyachenko strode forward, took her hand, and looked at her with hope in his eyes: "Miss Wang, I need your help."
Wang Xiao smiled and said, "No rush, take your time. Let's have breakfast together and talk about it."
She has no intention of working on an empty stomach.
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[Let me see] Good morning!
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