Chapter 428 Not Weak in Combat: Walking on Two Legs
Spring is approaching in South Africa every day, and autumn is growing stronger in Russia.
What is sorrow? It is the autumn in the heart of someone who is separated from their loved ones.
At least Comrade Nikolai, the bodyguard, feels that as autumn approaches, his melancholy deepens.
Look at his boss, Mr. Ivanov, his face is full of bitterness and resentment, and he's arguing with someone in the conference room right now.
That's right, the UN is banging on the table, and the noise inside the White House in Moscow is getting louder every day.
Nikolai stood obediently at the door, letting the words go in one ear and out the other.
In the corridor, the assistant hurriedly ran from the direction of the elevator and solemnly took a letter out of his bag.
The letter came from South Africa and was addressed to their male boss.
When Nikolai saw the sender's name, he instantly felt that spring in South Africa had traveled across the ocean with this letter.
Things are stable now; life will be better today.
The conference room door was suddenly pushed open.
Ivanov strode out, not forgetting to turn back and yell, "It's because you've been so weak all this time that things are getting worse and worse! Weakness brings humiliation and will never earn you respect!"
Then, in a fit of rage, he charged towards his office like an angry bull.
Nikolai and the others quickly followed, their faces full of tension, but none of them were panicked.
I've seen it all before, so it's not surprising anymore.
Ever since their boss got this office in the White House, there hasn't been a single day of calm; it's always been stormy.
Outsiders think the Russian Deputy Prime Minister is just a figurehead, but in reality, you've already entered the White House. Unless you treat yourself as a figurehead or a yes-man, no one can ignore your existence.
Sweating profusely, Ivanov rushed back to his office, grabbed a teacup, and gulped down a cup of cooled jasmine tea. His chest heaved violently, clearly furious.
Nikolai seized the opportunity, took out the letter that had traveled across the ocean, and handed it to his boss: "Sir, a letter from South Africa."
Ivanov was a little bewildered as he reached for the letter; the last time he read a letter was probably back in high school. Since the telephone became widespread, almost no one wrote letters anymore.
When he finally saw the sender's name on the envelope, he instantly wanted to rub his eyes. He even raised his hand, but then impatiently put it down again. His hands trembled as he tore open the envelope.
The bodyguards and assistants around him knew from the boss's reaction that things were going to go well.
Well, that's why I say their female boss is really something.
Look how romantic! They even write letters!
South Africa is South Africa, and Africa is Africa. South Africa is not a primitive tribe. Not only can you make international long-distance calls there, but you can also easily send emails.
Which route isn't faster than sending a letter? Even international airmail takes much longer to travel due to the bumpy ride than instant messaging.
But as the saying goes, "a letter is short but feelings are long." In this era, writing letters carries a tender and affectionate flavor. No wonder their male boss's first reaction upon unfolding the letter was to force a smile that he couldn't suppress.
Of course, he didn't intend to suppress it.
Not only did he not weigh down the letter, but he also took a deep, satisfied breath of the aroma of jasmine tea.
The latter was brewed again by the quick-thinking assistant, because the boss likes the smell.
Nikolai felt a mix of emotions as he watched, because it reminded him of that Hong Kong movie, something like "Red Rose, White Rose".
The red roses there, when she missed her lover, she would light a cigarette to smell her clothes, then bury her head in the clothes and sniff.
Because her lover's clothes smelled of cigarette smoke.
Just like now, the entire office is filled with the aroma of jasmine tea.
Mr. Ivanov was immersed in the fragrance of jasmine as he read the letter with delight.
So this is what South Africa is like: thousands of seals lazily basking in the sun on the island; countless penguins waddling along in long, slow lines.
On the vast grasslands, lions, rhinos, elephants, buffalo, and cheetahs roam, collectively known as the "Big Five" of Africa.
Wang Xiao vividly described the ferocity of the lion hunting the wildebeest on paper, depicting a scene of bloodshed where the wildebeest's throat was bitten off in one bite and became the lion's meal.
The foxes nearby were waiting, hoping to seize the opportunity to get some leftover meat for a meal.
As Wang Xiao was writing, she wondered if wildebeest meat was tasty, as she hadn't seen it sold in any local restaurants.
Ivanov couldn't help but chuckle. This was the king, wasn't he?
In the next paragraph, she writes about ostriches, and how they went to an ostrich farm.
When an ostrich turns its head back and forth, its round head and round eyes are especially cute and adorable.
She also rode an ostrich, which was a completely different experience from riding a horse.
She instructed Ivanov to maintain his physique and not to be too fat, because riding an ostrich requires a weight of less than 80 kilograms, otherwise the ostrich cannot withstand it.
She plans to introduce a few ostriches to Moscow to see if they can be farmed. If large-scale farming is not feasible, she will release them into zoos for display.
Unfortunately, that would mean they couldn't supply ostrich meat. Ostrich meat is delicious; she felt it was just as good as beef.
Ivanov watched and laughed, one second saying the ostrich was cute, the next second saying it was delicious, which was to say it was king.
It seems that no matter what comes in front of her, she will always ask, "Is it edible? Is it tasty?"
She must have cared about the animals in the photos that came with the letters. Are they tasty?
But as he watched, Ivanov's upturned lips slowly relaxed.
Because Wang Xiao changed the subject: I was amazed by the South African government's previous protection of wildlife, but their cruelty towards people of color was also shocking.
The photos in the background show Black neighborhoods, which contrast sharply with the beautiful South African cityscape in the foreground.
Wang Xiao wrote on the letter: "Many people have touted South Africa as some kind of miracle, but I think it was far inferior to the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union constantly tried to mobilize people to build up even remote and desolate frontiers, so how could it tolerate such a living hell right under Moscow's nose?"
Ivanov sank into his office chair, calmed himself, and slowly continued reading the letters.
When he saw the end of the letter, the corners of his lips curled up once again.
Because in his letter, Wang expressed his regret: It's such a pity you didn't come; you can't see it with your own eyes.
What she didn't know was that after reading the letter, he was no longer so regretful, because her eyes had already seen all those beautiful things for him.
Ivanov held the letter for a long time, repeatedly looking at the photos, before slowly putting them back into the envelope.
The assistant quickly took out a bag and respectfully handed it to the boss: "This is a gift from Miss Wang to you."
A batch of gifts had been sent back a couple of days ago, and everyone received one. Mr. Ivanov received a strange necklace and an even stranger copper bell.
The necklace is now around his neck, and the bell hangs on the headboard of his duty room. He fiddles with it whenever he feels like it, making a tinkling sound.
That's right, the poor man began his long-term stay as soon as he entered the White House.
This is why the assistant rushed over with the letter.
By the time he can go home to visit, Miss Wang might have already flown back to Moscow from South Africa.
This time, the gifts she sent to her boss were various sculptures, including colorful stone carvings of the Big Five Africans and hand-painted plates, the vibrant colors seemingly sealing in the South African sunshine.
Ivanov reached out and stroked the strange gifts, a smile returning to his face.
He carefully put his things away and then downed most of a cup of jasmine tea.
When he put down the cup, Nikolai even wondered if there really was witchcraft in South Africa, where people could spread and absorb energy through magical rituals.
Look at Mr. Ivanov, he's instantly full of fighting spirit again.
He stood up, strutting confidently back into the conference room.
Soskovets and Chubais each occupied a corner of the table and by the window, smoking.
Ivanov simply stood at the door and refused to go in.
People who haven't smoked for a long time can't possibly like the smell of cigarettes.
"Alright, gentlemen," he said, standing at the doorway. "First, I want to ask you, are Russia's biggest problems right now economic disorder, political dysfunction, and social instability?"
This is a terrible social diagnosis.
However, neither of the two high-ranking officials present could deny it—why two, and not three? Where was Prime Minister Chernomyrdin? Why wasn't he involved in their meeting?
It's not because the Premier is too busy; no matter how busy he is, he can always find time, especially when discussing such important matters that determine the direction of the country.
Instead, Prime Minister Chernomyrdin basically doesn't argue with people—Ivanov only learned about their prime minister's speech impediment after he became deputy prime minister and moved into the White House.
Unless he absolutely had to speak, he was usually taciturn and rarely expressed his opinion.
The situation is the same now; they will only send the conclusion to the Premier's desk after they have finished arguing and reached a conclusion.
Seeing that neither of the two leaders objected, Ivanov continued, "Given this current predicament, our immediate tasks are to stabilize the currency, preserve jobs, and restore people's livelihoods. I wonder if you two agree?"
The two men in the meeting room continued smoking, neither giving a negative response.
Ivanov, who really disliked the smell of smoke, frowned and apologized: "Since you all agree, why do you oppose leasing idle land in the Far East to China's state-owned agricultural groups? Buying back grain according to a certain proportion can guarantee our food security!"
Because his entry into the White House curbed the expansion of the Berezovsky Group's influence in the political and business spheres, Chubais became more patient with him: "Ivan, we all understand your affinity for China. In fact, because of Miss Wang, I also have a good impression of China. But don't forget, we cannot let personal feelings interfere with public affairs; we must consider Russia's national security."
"God, please stop!" Ivanov said impatiently. "All you've been saying is that conspiracy theory that the Chinese will take over the Far East. In fact, is that even possible? In this era, apart from war, there's no such thing as secretly taking over territory!"
Chubais smiled wryly: "Ivan, we can't always think about the ideal situation; we have to think about the worst-case scenario."
“Yes, I am considering the worst-case scenario.” Ivanov stood firm. “We have always leaned towards the West, which is why they have the audacity to manipulate us as if we are a second-rate country that has to put up with their whims. Only when we change our attitude, from compromise to equal dialogue, and make it clear to them that we have other options besides them, will they lower their arrogant heads.”
Chubais had finished his cigarette and was now about to light another one, looking somewhat anxious: "Ivan, your attitude is too extreme. Russia is actively integrating into the world economy, and we need a stable international environment."
Ivanov stared intently at him: "So you mean we won't compromise anymore, we won't fall for their tricks anymore—God, they promised $24 billion in aid back then, how much did they actually give us? Less than half, maybe a third? Did they just buy American products instead?"
Chubais had to interrupt him: "Alright, Ivan, that's a lot of money. You know, we're in a serious crisis, and we desperately need external assistance to stabilize the economy and push forward with reforms. It's the only hope, the only hope, for alleviating the economic collapse and achieving transformation."
“We can’t make it our only hope.” Ivanov interrupted his rambling as well. “Gentlemen, we must recognize one thing: we need to walk on two legs. You see, anything and anyone is most valuable when it’s being fought over. Once you’re certain it belongs to you, its value decreases, and it becomes dispensable. And the more you know it’s rushing towards you, the less you care, and the more you manipulate it.”
Soskovitz, who had been silent all along, suddenly stubbed out his cigarette and looked at him seriously: "Ivan, my dear friend, I must warn you, you must not let yourself be blinded by the belief that Miss Wang is already yours. Otherwise, you will get into trouble, and we will get into huge trouble."
No one wants a powerful person to become their enemy, especially when that person is extremely adept at integrating resources and precisely manipulating public opinion.
He couldn't imagine what a terrible disaster it would be if the two sides were on opposite sides.
Ivanov glared at him. "Sir, that's really not something you should be saying."
Chubais laughed like a bystander: "No, no, no, Mr. Soskowitz, you should be worried about what to do if the King doesn't like our dear Ivan anymore."
When he and Soskovets were both serving as Russian Deputy Prime Ministers, their relationship became delicate because Soskovets' excessive power seriously affected his privatization efforts.
But now that the president has been re-elected, their relationship has become much more harmonious due to their tacit understanding to jointly confront the oligarchic groups.
He even joked along with what the other person said. Keep in mind that before this, their relationship had been extremely tense.
Ivanov turned his head and glared at Chubais: "Sir, you really don't know how to talk."
Chubais chuckled, "Just like you said, everything and everyone is most valuable when it's in high demand. Are you sure you want to fully support Nemtsov's rural gas transformation and SME support program? And to comprehensively promote the Nizhny Novgorod region's experience?"
Nemtsov is a real playboy. Every time he looks at Miss Wang, his eyes are full of affection, and then he gets a glare from Ivanov, who wishes he could tear him to pieces.
But now, Ivanov said in a serious tone: "Work aside, sir, we must at least admit that he is a pragmatic local official, which means he is naturally our ally. Well then, we'll discuss rural development and small and medium-sized enterprises later. Now, please sign your names to finalize the matter of farming in the Far East."
Chubais shook his head immediately: "I cannot agree."
After the election, he did not return to the White House, but instead became the Chief of Staff of the Kremlin.
But most of the time, he acted as a liaison officer, having to spend a lot of time maneuvering with the two deputy prime ministers.
The reason I say this is because Cherlomerkin is a genuinely kind person who never easily offends anyone. If all three of them agree on something, he will vote in favor without hesitation.
Since Soskovets was not one to talk much, Chubais became the first barrier to stop Ivanov's wild ideas: "Alright, dear Ivanov, please listen to me calmly."
Ivanov, however, showed no willingness to cooperate: "Anatole, please listen to me too. I've heard a very interesting saying: every predicament we encounter is caused by our weaknesses. Fate will repeatedly present us with challenges until we abandon the old choices and offer new answers. And fate is the most patient teacher; it will tirelessly continue until we find the right answer."
He looked at Chubais and said, “Now, it is time for us to make another choice. Gentlemen, I will push forward with all my might in our eastward diplomacy; we cannot walk on one leg.”
Chubais's gaze also fell on him: "Ivan, as you said, fate is a very patient teacher. It will keep giving you the same type of questions, reminding you that your answer is wrong. Now is the time for us to abandon socialism and enter the correct answer of capitalism."
"Let's not talk about ideologies now," Ivanov said forcefully, waving his hand. "Let's talk about something practical. What are you afraid of? You're not afraid that China will actually occupy our territory because you know our military strength. China isn't so foolish as to do something like that. What you're really afraid of is that we'll offend Europe and America and make them unhappy."
Chubais once again tried to emphasize: "You must understand that we must cooperate with mature Western market economies..."
Ivanov waved his hand: "Alright, sir, what I'm saying now is, so what if we offend them? Do they dare to attack us? No. The law of the fortunate avoids trouble. They won, they won against the Soviet Union, there's no need for actual violence. Just like the rich don't need to provoke the poor, because the latter might very well pull out a knife or a gun and fight you to the death."
He pointed out the window, “Russia is not Iraq. Russia has the largest territory in the world; our strategic depth is naturally present. We can turn a blitzkrieg into a protracted war; we excel at fighting tough, arduous battles. But this kind of quagmire is what the United States fears most. They suffered losses in Korea, they suffered losses in Vietnam. Clinton isn't foolish enough to let the United States get bogged down in a quagmire when he's riding high. Besides—”
He sneered, a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth. "The peaceful disintegration of the Soviet Union was the pinnacle of America's reaping of global wealth. If it really goes mad and attacks Russia, then the whole world will wake up to the fact that the so-called peace is a lie and a deception. Everyone will band together to confront the United States. This would mean that all its efforts during the decades of the Cold War have been completely wasted."
He sighed, "What a pity, Americans aren't stupid."
If the United States were to do this, it would be a golden opportunity for Russia to rise again.
Chubais sighed, “Alright, Ivan, as nuclear powers, neither Russia nor the United States will easily resort to force. You should also understand that in this era, war is not the only means of combat.”
"Oh, economic sanctions, huh? So what?" Ivanov said fearlessly. "Back then, South Africa was sanctioned by the Soviet Union, the United States, and the international community, and its economy didn't collapse, did it?"
Chubais couldn't stand it anymore: "What nonsense are you talking about? No normal country would allow something like that to happen in South Africa."
Ivanov glanced back at him: "I'm just saying that being sanctioned by the US means we're doomed! Besides, what reason does it have to sanction us? Just because we have economic cooperation with other countries? It has its own trade relations with China. It wouldn't be stupid enough to sanction us at this time."
Qiubais couldn't argue with him any longer and was almost ready to surrender: "Alright, alright, I really don't want to argue with you anymore. But I have one request: if the Chinese are allowed to come and farm, then Japan can too."
Let them fight it out; let them check and balance each other.
He was powerless to stop the continued decline of Russian agriculture, especially in remote areas, where young people were trying to migrate to Europe and cities, leaving vast tracts of farmland abandoned. Over time, all agricultural infrastructure would also fall into disuse along with the abandoned farmland.
So even if they have enough manpower and ability to reclaim the land in the future, they will have to start all over again and start clearing the land anew.
Ivanov nodded: "Of course, rentals are open to everyone."
Soskowitz had no objection: "Sure."
He understood a principle: a country that is well-fed may not necessarily be immune to chaos, but a country that is poorly fed will inevitably descend into turmoil.
Alright, this issue can finally be passed. Even if he doesn't talk much and doesn't have to waste much breath, listening to two people arguing all the time is too much for the ears.
Ivanov nodded in satisfaction, continuing with high spirits: "Alright, let's move on to the next topic..."
The meeting room door wasn't reopened until it was completely dark.
Chubais, exasperated and exhausted, said weakly, "God, when you argue with Miss Wang, do you argue for a whole day and night?"
How strong is Wang Xiao's will? He had already witnessed it. He was a person who would never retreat, and would attack relentlessly and without gaps until the opponent was driven crazy and had no choice but to compromise.
Ivanov was unexpectedly a ruthless man, with formidable fighting skills that were a real headache.
Ivanov showed no sign of fatigue and his voice remained strong: "We never argue; we are both reasonable people."
Chubbes seized the opportunity to attack him: "There is no reasoning between lovers."
Ivanov looked him up and down, his tone tinged with pity: "Sir, you're not jealous of me, are you?"
Laughter rang out from behind, and he raised both hands as if to act as a persuader: "Alright, alright, gentlemen."
His gaze fell on Ivanov's face. "Ivanov, I heard you're planning to sell 10% of your Siberian Oil Company to BP. Is that true?"
Ivanov nodded without hesitation: "We are indeed discussing this."
Soskowitz frowned slightly: "Is it absolutely necessary to sell?"
Ivanov nodded: "Yes, only in this way will they cooperate with us on the refinery and bring the refined oil into the European market."
He sighed, "We can't just keep exporting crude oil; we need higher added value."
Chubais had no objection to this. Although he had previously refused to allow foreign capital to participate in the loan-for-equity auction, everyone knew that they could only sell shares to their own oligarchs at a low price by keeping foreign capital out.
If the deal is re-transactioned and sold to a major international oil company, the stock price will rise, which would be good for Russia.
He couldn't quite manage a smile: "It's normal for Britain and Japan to form joint ventures with the US to build oil refineries; we do need advanced technology. So why are you cooperating with China in oil refining?"
Light industry aside, China's population size and geographical conditions give it a unique advantage in developing light industry.
But oil refining—good heavens, China's industrial base was built with Soviet aid back then!
He simply couldn't believe, with his eyes closed, that China's oil refining technology was so advanced. As far as he knew, even their most advanced technology was at least 15 years behind Japan's.
"Sir, the purpose of our cooperation with China in oil refining is a 'low-end-incremental' model. Its core value lies not in technological sophistication but in the sustainability of the system."
Ivanov calmly looked at Chubais. "Many of Russia's refineries are already in a state of shutdown or partial shutdown, and urgently need equipment maintenance. To maintain the equipment, we either need to continue selling equity, or we need to use foreign exchange to purchase it. We don't have enough foreign exchange, nor can we sell equity in all the refineries."
"China's technology is only 3 points, which is not up to the level of 4 or 5 points of Europe, America and Japan. But they can refuse to settle in US dollars and let us use crude oil as collateral to complete the transaction through barter."
"Moreover, we have calculated that this 3% low-end technology cooperation can bring the capacity utilization rate of our Russian oil refineries back to over 70%. In this way, we can at least preserve the spark for further technological upgrades in the future."
Ivanov sighed heavily. "Besides, there are advantages to being low-end. They can share some of their technical experience with us, unlike Europe, America, Japan, and South Korea, where the technology is completely blocked."
Soskowitz suddenly spoke up: "Live, live first."
As a technically skilled official, he understood all too well the importance of maintaining production.
Modern Russia, like its factories, is like a giant, leaky doll; they must find ways to patch up the holes.
Even if an inflatable doll only looks magnificent and imposing, but is actually weak and will collapse as soon as it deflates, it still has to maintain its magnificent and imposing appearance.
Because once its vital energy is depleted and outsiders see through its weakness, countless hyenas will pounce on it and tear it to pieces.
“Alright.” Soskowitz nodded again. “Please move this forward as soon as possible. If it’s successful, we’ll begin large-scale rollout.”
Ivanov smiled with satisfaction and turned to Chubais, asking, "And what about you, sir? What is your opinion?"
Chubais could only express his respect: "Since both gentlemen have no objections, then I will not object either."
Ivanov then smiled and saw the man out of the White House.
It should have been done a long time ago; if he had nodded earlier, he wouldn't have wasted a whole day.
He was in a hurry to go back and write a reply to Wang!
When is she planning to come back? He has so much to say to her.
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Let me see.
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