"Is his wife also considered an outsider?" Bai Yiqian was taken aback.
Speaking of which, he glanced at the documents on the coffee table and continued: "He had reporters write nonsense about your family, and by the end of the election, it’s all about who has the bigger hammer. His public support is on the decline. Revealing something about his wife could let you sleep peacefully on the day of the election."
Song Baiyan poured himself a cup of tea: "It’s just a woman, we are already confident about the matter, there’s no need to trouble her further."
"Sometimes, you really shouldn’t underestimate women," Bai Yiqian sighed. "Many big anti-corruption cases were ultimately solved by women. Not to mention the distant cases, just take Xia Zhengguo, it was his wife who dealt the most critical blow."
"If Xia Zhengguo hadn’t had an illegitimate child outside, his wife wouldn’t have turned to the Anti-Corruption Bureau so easily," Song Baiyan said as he picked up his teacup. "Every effect has its cause; once women set their minds, they can be more ruthless than men."
"And yet you let Huang Jiwen’s wife go?"
"Now, leaving some leeway in public will make future encounters easier; even if Huang Jiwen loses the election, as long as he has the thick skin, he can still go back to being a senator. It’s better to step back now than to make lifelong enemies over an election, which doesn’t affect the overall situation."
Hearing Song Baiyan’s unusually kind words, Bai Yiqian felt strangely confused.
Even though Minister Song might retreat to temples in the mountain for "spiritual cleansing," Bai Yiqian never saw him as someone soft-hearted; if that were true, Song Baiyan would not have come this far.
If the recently retired Song Baiyan from the military was a sharp knife still stained with blood, the Song Baiyan of today had already sheathed his blade.
But even though Song Baiyan appeared gentle and broad-minded, his tactics in handling matters were even more cunning than before. Now he talks about sparing Huang Jiwen’s wife, Bai Yiqian couldn’t understand. He looked at Song Baiyan’s profile; he didn’t seem to have any personal entanglements with Huang Jiwen’s wife. Could it be because he’s prayed too much?
"This doesn’t quite fit your style," Bai Yiqian didn’t beat around the bush: "Previously, you wouldn’t make such a decision to let the tiger return to the mountain."
Song Baiyan, hearing the confusion in his words, simply replied, "Excessive is as bad as insufficient."
"Being overly harsh can damage one’s moral virtue."
After Bai Yiqian left, the water in the purple clay teacup had completely cooled.
Song Baiyan put down the cup and walked to the living room window, standing with his hands behind his back, gazing at the scenery outside.
In the living room, the lights, bright as daylight, illuminated the wristwatch on Song Baiyan’s left hand, and gave his white shirt a cold halo.
Outside, the dark night sky, aside from a sliver of crescent moon, had only two or three distant stars.
The flickering starlight reminded him of Tang Li’s eyes, and then he recalled Tang Li’s assured tone right before hanging up the phone: "You are inherently a good person, better than anyone else I know."
On the day the election results were announced, Tang Li also finished filming the last scene of "Mihesha River Action."
She walked over to the director’s side, intending to review the footage on the monitor, when the assistant director suddenly came with a cellphone to inform everyone: "As expected, indeed it was Minister Song Baiyan who was elected!"
Hearing this, Tang Li looked up.
"Compared to Huang Jiwen, Song Baiyan secured 68% of the votes. Two-thirds into the counting, the outcome was clear," the assistant director continued, "Huang Jiwen knew he was out of the game, left with a gloomy face before the counting was even finished."