Chapter 424 Magical Cape Town (Bug Fix): The Power of Power
Cape Town in August is like being soaked in honey, with the sunlight tinged with a soft golden hue.
As soon as the plane broke through the clouds, Wang Xiao leaned close to the window, his fingertips unconsciously pressing against the cold glass.
What she saw was not the endless grasslands or the yellowish-brown Gobi Desert she had imagined—geographically, South Africa has vast deserts.
Instead, it's a sea of green stretching to the horizon. The deep green is the primeval forest of Table Mountain, the light green is the vineyards of the coastal plain, and further away, the azure Atlantic Ocean, like a gem melted by the sun, gently washes over the white sand beach, even the waves shimmering like scattered gold.
"It's so beautiful!" she couldn't help but exclaim. "We really should have come sooner."
Moscow summers are indeed enchanting, but Cape Town possesses a unique, bright tropical vibe that is simply irresistible.
She gazed longingly at the scenery outside the window, ready to share her feelings with someone, but received no response for a long time. Then it suddenly dawned on her that she had arrived in South Africa alone.
Poor Ivan is still in the White House in Moscow, fighting openly and covertly with a bunch of bureaucrats.
What a pity!
She sighed inwardly, but unfortunately he couldn't see it now.
The plane finally landed smoothly on the flat runway, and the flight attendant's bright and cheerful voice, like sunshine, reminded the passengers that they could disembark.
Wang Xiao stood up and was surrounded as she walked out.
As soon as she got off the plane, she heard a loud gasp of surprise, followed by Xiao Gao's hesitant question: "Boss...we didn't get on the wrong flight, did we?"
Don't think it's strange to take the wrong international flight; in fact, airports encounter these unlucky passengers almost every day. Some destinations are indeed very easy to confuse.
So even if the assistant booked the wrong flight, it should be understandable.
Wang Xiao asked in confusion, "Why do you think we're on the wrong plane? This is Cape Town. The flight attendant just reminded us, and the signs here also say Cape Town."
Xiao Zhao couldn't help but widen his eyes: "Is this South Africa?!"
Look what's laid out in front of them like a postcard.
It is the wide and clean tarmac filled with colorful logos and planes from all over the world; it is the tall and spacious bright terminal building bustling with people; it is the verdant mountains in the distance, clearly visible and covering a large area of upscale residential areas; it is the clear blue sky and the sparkling sea!
Its beautiful, advanced, and clean appearance is even more European than the Europe depicted on postcards.
Seriously, the two bodyguards could swear that they had traveled all over the country with their boss and had never seen a more beautiful airport than this one, not even Tokyo's airport could compare.
Because Tokyo is too cramped, there's a strange sense of confinement, unlike the openness here, where the sky seems higher than elsewhere.
What should Africa be like?
It's endless yellow sand, vast grasslands, tribal villages—the kind of primitive and desolate landscape shown on television, poverty, backwardness, and death.
That's why their country needs to provide aid to Africa; they're tightening their belts to do so.
If Africa is like this, what's the point of providing aid? It's like beggars giving money to the rich, just being a clown for people's amusement.
Wang Xiao was amused by their rapid-fire chatter and said meaningfully, "Remember, Africa is Africa, and South Africa is South Africa. This is a country built on gold."
They have an abundance of natural resources, with the world's largest gold reserves!
At its peak, its GDP per capita even surpassed that of the United Kingdom.
While the two bodyguards were still in shock and uncertainty, the experienced Lyuba had already escorted her boss forward.
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao, disregarding the huge shock to their values, quickly followed.
This time, they escorted their boss out, which greatly worried Mr. Ivanov.
He was worried about his boss's safety and was determined to have his boss bring along his trusted servants, Nikolai and others.
However, their boss, Mr. Wang, refused, arguing that it would be equally dangerous for Mr. Ivanov to remain in Russia.
Political assassinations have never stopped; when politicians like members of Congress and state legislators fall in the streets, the news only makes a splash for a short while.
He should keep the bodyguards he's used to.
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao solemnly assured Mr. Ivanov that they would absolutely not let President Wang encounter any danger.
They cautiously escorted the person towards the hall, and from afar, they could already see the familiar Chinese characters.
Manager Zhang, whom I had met a few times in Bucharest—who is also the head of the Cape Town China International Trade City—was holding the welcome sign high and waving frantically.
He wasn't alone; he brought an assistant with him.
The three identical signs are lined up in a row, making them quite eye-catching.
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao couldn't help but smile. Just as they were about to follow their boss forward, suddenly, someone unexpected appeared out of nowhere.
Strictly speaking, he is not Cheng Yaojin, and may not even know Cheng Yaojin.
Three tall, serious-looking white men in dark suits walked out of the crowd like Moses parting the sea and stood in front of Wang Xiao.
The gentleman leading the group, with graying temples, extended his hand and greeted her politely: "Hello, Miss Wang, I am Andrei Petrov, the counselor of the Russian Consulate General in Cape Town. I have come to welcome you on the instructions of the Ambassador."
Manager Zhang's previously unraveled, enthusiastic smile vanished, leaving him looking like a failed attempt to rehydrate a mushroom. His waving arm froze in mid-air, his face filled with confusion, bewilderment, and unease.
What... what's going on?
Why are the Russians here too?
Although white people all look very similar, especially Russians who have lived abroad for a long time, it is almost impossible for outsiders to tell the difference between them and the locals.
Otherwise, the KGB agents from the Soviet era wouldn't have been able to infiltrate Western European countries for so many years without being exposed one by one.
However, the double-headed eagle badges hanging on the chests of these Russians and their rapid-fire Russian language directly revealed their identities and highlighted their extraordinary status; they were clearly government officials.
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao were equally shocked, even more so than by the beauty and modernity of South Africa.
It was only at this moment that they suddenly realized the true value of the title "Vice Premier".
It's not a bargaining chip for the boss to use when arguing with other oligarchs, nor is it a tool for the boss to vent his anger, nor is it something for everyone to joke about.
It is a real leadership position, representing powerful state authority!
Because Mr. Ivanov is now the Deputy Prime Minister, even the second-in-command of the Russian Embassy personally went to the airport to greet President Wang, with utmost respect and the attitude of "I will do whatever you say."
Of course, what they were expressing was respect for Wang Xiao, the presidential advisor.
But everyone knows that the advisor position is just a nominal one, with no real power.
What truly drives officials to act is always tangible power, specifically the power wielded by a vice premier.
Xiao Gao took a deep breath and forced himself to stand up straight.
He instinctively straightened his back, gave the flustered Manager Zhang a meaningful look, and said sarcastically, "Oh, you didn't know? You're behind on the news. Our other boss, Mr. Ivanov, just became the Deputy Prime Minister this month, the Deputy Prime Minister of Russia."
With a "thud," Manager Zhang's hand trembled, and the sign he was holding fell to the ground.
He hurriedly squatted down and quickly picked up the sign again.
While doing all this, he was acting mechanically, his mind completely blank.
Only after he stood up again could he manage a forced, dry laugh: "Brother Gao...you're not kidding me, are you?"
He's not ignorant; he's met the Vice Premier.
When it was in Bucharest, the China Container Market was a typical example of attracting investment to the area, directly driving the recovery and development of the processing and manufacturing industry in the vicinity of Bucharest and even throughout Romania.
Therefore, local officials frequently visit the container market to inspect it or use it as a model to attract more foreign investment.
Among those officials were city leaders from Bucharest and central leaders from Romania.
But they are just visitors, so they are still outsiders.
This is completely different from the idea that one's boss is the vice premier.
Besides, how big is Romania? And how big is Russia?
The two are not even in the same league!
Xiao Zhao sneered: "Would we dare joke about something like this in front of Russian embassy officials? I wouldn't dare."
Manager Zhang's face was drained of all color; large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, and his palms were so hot and slippery that he couldn't even hold onto the airport sign.
On the other end, Wang Xiao shook hands with Counselor Petrov to express his gratitude, and then finally took a moment to nod slightly to Manager Zhang: "Cape Town is indeed not cold in winter. You've worked hard, you're all sweating."
Manager Zhang felt a ringing in his ears. He wiped the sweat from his forehead hastily and forced a smile: "Well... boss, let's get in the car."
Yes, yes, yes, we need to get on the bus; we need to drive from the airport to the trade city.
His task today is to pick someone up from the airport.
Even if it's a huge deal, we'll talk about it after I pick up the boss.
Unfortunately, the boss didn't give him that kind of face: "I'm riding in the embassy's car, so drive carefully on the road."
Manager Zhang followed behind the group, stumbling along as he watched his boss get into the car belonging to the Russian embassy.
In the sunlight, the double-headed eagle pattern stung his eyes.
Only two words remained in his mind—it's over.
The ledgers he was about to hand over to his boss were definitely not going to be fooled.
The car door closed, leaving Manager Zhang with all the endless panic.
Wang Xiao was unaware that someone else was already mentally rehearsing the full set of the KGB's ten most brutal tortures.
As is customary, the first thing she does when she arrives in a new country is to visit the Chinese embassy to make arrangements and register. This way, she can easily contact them for help if she encounters any problems later.
But in South Africa, there's no need for that.
Because in 1996, South Africa had not established diplomatic relations with China at all.
This country's current diplomatic partner is Taiwan.
Yes, Cape Town has a so-called Republic of China Embassy.
Unless Wang Xiao is insane, there's absolutely no way she would rush to that kind of place to seek validation.
At this juncture, she should stick with the Russians.
As soon as she got on the bus, her eyes eagerly looked at the scenery outside the window. It was beautiful, truly beautiful.
Although it is winter, the Agulhas Current makes the winter rainfall here more abundant than in the typical Mediterranean region, and there is no extreme cold.
The sunlight is the absolute protagonist here, generously pouring down and gilding everything with a dazzling gold.
The sky was a pure cobalt blue, without a trace of impurity. The roads were wide and clean, with jacaranda trees blooming on both sides.
When the wind blows, the blue-purple flowers instantly turn into a shower of petals.
Wang Xiao couldn't help but exclaim, "It's so beautiful, this place is really lovely."
A wave of regret washed over her once more; it was a pity Ivanov couldn't come.
She was sure he would love it here.
Which Slav could resist such brilliant sunshine?
Counselor Petrov, having spent a long time in South Africa, had picked up the sunshine and was no longer the taciturn typical Russian; instead, he was cheerful and loved to laugh.
He laughed out loud: "Of course, South Africa truly lives up to its name as the Rainbow Nation."
Although South Africa gives itself this name to emphasize the inclusivity of the new South African nation, people of all races can live and coexist here, representing the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet hues.
It is no longer the terrible country that was once so severely segregated that most countries in the world severed diplomatic ties with it.
But people around the world agree that South Africa is called the Rainbow Nation because of its colorful beauty.
It's so dazzling! Every color is highly saturated, making it hard to look away.
In the distance, the flat top of Table Mountain is clearly visible in the sunlight, its slopes a warm, earthy yellow hue interwoven with dappled green vegetation. Further still, the Atlantic Ocean shimmers, blending seamlessly with the sky. White yachts dot the deep blue sea, while seaside villas, built into the hillside, stand out strikingly in the sunlight with their red roofs and white walls.
Wang Xiao wanted to open the car window to smell the salty sea air, the bright floral scents everywhere, and the scent of Cape Town's winter sunshine.
Petrov stopped her: "Don't open the window."
Wang Xiao assumed it was a requirement of foreign affairs discipline, so he stopped insisting and continued to enjoy the beautiful scenery outside the car window with great interest.
Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to something new.
Houses, beautiful detached houses, many houses along the roadside, whether modern or old Victorian, all have sharp, dense barbed wire wrapped around the top of their walls, some even with electric fences that gleam with a cold metallic light!
The Cape Town sun was so bright, yet it couldn't dispel the chilly atmosphere.
Like a hideous scar.
Wang Xiao frowned, incredulous: "There are still so many concentration camps in Cape Town?"
Since she traveled through time, she has only seen similar electric fences in an orphanage in Bucharest and a concentration camp on the outskirts of Moscow.
Petrov shook his head: "No, the homeowner installed it himself."
He sighed, "South Africa is great in every way, except for one thing: the security situation is absolutely terrible."
Xiao Gao and Xiao Zhao quickly turned to look out the window, as if even an AK-47 couldn't suppress their smiles.
Good heavens! Can't these Russians have a little self-awareness?
You complain about the poor security situation there? Everyone knows Russia is notoriously unsafe!
Petrov, however, said in a serious tone: "How bad is the security situation in South Africa? It's worse than Russia. The murder rate is the highest in the world, far ahead of Russia. Even their vice president's house was burgled, and the thief still hasn't been caught."
Wang Xiao almost couldn't suppress her smile, feeling like a slacker running home to their mom, laughing and sharing funny stories from school: "Mom, a new idiot came to our class, do you know how idiotic he is? He's even idiot than me!"
She forced a serious expression and nodded earnestly: "That is indeed quite terrible."
If it's worse than Russia in terms of public security, then it's ridiculously bad.
The car stopped at the traffic light, and everyone waited for the green light to come on again.
Wang Xiao's gaze casually swept out the car window, finally settling on a young Black man standing next to a car.
Because he was waving a wooden stick and smashing it hard against the car window.
Could it be that the car was locked and the person inside couldn't stand the sun, so the owner had no choice but to smash the car window?
But the next second, after the car window shattered, the young man didn't hesitate at all. He quickly reached in, unlocked the car door, opened it, leaned inside, and began skillfully carrying things out—
The leather briefcase on the passenger seat, a shopping bag on the back seat—all were gone, and even the car stereo was roughly ripped off.
The whole process was smooth and effortless, with the young man completely oblivious to his surroundings.
At that moment, a white man, about forty years old, rushed out of a supermarket on the side of the road.
Seeing his car smashed and robbed, he was furious, his face turning red. He waved his fists and cursed loudly in Afrikaans as he rushed over.
But the young black man, clutching the stolen goods, remained calm and even glanced back at the pursuer, showing no fear on his face. Instead, as if he had completed a routine task, he nimbly turned into a nearby alley and vanished without a trace.
The unfortunate owner chased the victim to the alley entrance, but dared not go any further. He could only shout a few words in vain at the air, and finally stomped his feet in frustration.
The entire process, from smashing the window to robbing the items and fleeing, lasted less than a minute.
Among the other vehicles waiting at the intersection for the red light, people seemed to take it all in stride, simply watching expressionlessly without honking their horns.
The only reaction came from a few idle young people in the shadows of the street corner, who pointed and chuckled indistinctly.
Wang Xiao was dumbfounded.
This was the first time in her life that she had witnessed such a blatant, open street robbery.
So efficient, so professional!
This is no longer theft, this is violent crime, this is robbery!
Petrov sighed, "You'll get used to it. This is South Africa now. Black people have little concept of law and rules, and the government doesn't dare to interfere."
How can we manage them? They are victims, suffering terribly from years of apartheid.
Your new South African government was established thanks to these victims. What grounds do you have to punish them?
Wang Xiao sighed and remained silent.
She finally understood why South Africa had been on a downward spiral since then, with almost no development for 30 years.
Poor security is deadly.
When developed countries relocate their industries, they first need to do two things: a compliance test and a combat capability test.
Needless to say, the obedience test requires you to be obedient, follow me, not go against me, and not challenge my position. You must be a dutiful follower.
As for the combat capability test, it's about seeing if you can fight and guarantee the safety of the industries I invest in your country.
To put it bluntly, the latter means ensuring the stability of your regime, thereby guaranteeing the safety of my invested assets.
Whether South Africa has the capability to compete with other countries is debatable, but its level of security is enough to deter many investors.
You have to be alive to spend the money you earn.
It's no wonder that South Africa, with 97% of Africa's coal mines, only 4% of Africa's land area, and 5.4% of Africa's population, yet generating half of Africa's electricity; with its developed transportation network, the third most modernized highway network in the world, the Cape of Good Hope Strait, and numerous excellent ports, and being free from US sanctions and import quotas; with its financial system ranking sixth in the world and relatively cheap labor, has gradually declined.
The car drove on for about fifteen minutes and stopped at a gas station to refuel.
To be honest, refueling midway through a foreign affairs reception is a serious mistake.
However, considering that it was normal for Soviets to be late and that they had a long tradition of procrastination, it seemed reasonable that the embassy did not refuel on the way to the airport in order to pick up the person on time.
At least the counselor didn't show any sign of embarrassment.
As soon as the car stopped, a young Black man wearing a T-shirt and beach shorts quickly stepped forward, holding a rag in both hands, and deftly wiped the car.
He was still smiling while working, revealing a set of snow-white teeth that made people feel happy involuntarily.
Petrov explained, "The gas stations here all offer free car washes."
The young Black man wiped the cloth with great care, his movements flowing smoothly and gracefully; to exaggerate a bit, it could even be called a dance, a sight to behold.
Wang Xiao sighed, "As long as they have a job, they can do it very well."
Petrov nodded in agreement: "The black people here are indeed like that; they work very hard in the factories. They work ten hours a day without slacking off. It's a pity that many factories closed down when the white people left, and now the unemployment rate in South Africa is too high, almost 40%."
He was raised with a standard Soviet education, and deep down, he still believed in the idea that everyone is equal.
When those European and American tourists came, they complained that black people were ruining South Africa, saying that their laziness would lead the country to its demise.
Petrov wanted to roll his eyes at the thought.
If Black people were truly lazy, how could the white people of South Africa have been so wealthy back then?
It was precisely because they ruthlessly exploited people, forcing them into a living condition even worse than that of serfs, that they amassed such enormous wealth.
Where do the exploiters get the audacity to devalue the exploited to nothing?
Now, Wang Xiao's appreciation for the hard work of Black people subtly pleased Petrov, and he even took the initiative to ask, "Miss Wang, what are you looking at? Is there anything you need?"
Wang Xiao stared at the gas station sign: "Is this a Shell gas station?"
Petrov nodded: "Yes. There are many gas station operators in South Africa, including Mobil, Shell, and BP. Almost all the major oil companies have gas stations here. So the competition is very fierce, and the service is indeed very good."
This is his biggest takeaway from working in South Africa.
In Russia, don't even think about services. You're lucky if you get any goods at all.
Unlike gas stations in South Africa, where suggestion books are printed with the message: "It is our pleasure to serve you."
Wang Xiao smiled and nodded, then sighed, as if talking to himself: "When will Rosneft be able to have gas stations here?"
Petrov was filled with awe.
Everyone knows just how big the value gap is between raw materials and the final product.
The value of crude oil exported can increase several times over compared to the value of gasoline added to cars.
If Rosneft's gas stations could be found all over the world, then Russia's economic development would truly have hope.
It turns out that this presidential advisor, Miss Wang, was indeed there to investigate the economy and provide a basis for the formulation of Russia's next economic policy.
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Good morning. China and South Africa only formally established diplomatic relations in January 1998.
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