Afternoon.
From top to bottom, Guangming Street Office was buzzing with indignant discussion.
"Did you hear? Peace Street Office got nominated as a Model Unit."
"I heard ages ago! What the hell is that? How did they get picked?"
"They call themselves a model? They'll get eliminated during the inspection!"
"Our province has over a dozen nominations, but only one or two units per province can make it through. They definitely won't."
"Exactly. Last time, Li's Restaurant was making such a racket that tons of residents called in complaints. Did Peace Street Office send anyone to take a look? No! And they call themselves a Respect-the-Elderly Model Unit? What a joke! Who have they ever respected?"
"Still, it looks like the district is pretty supportive of them."
"Sigh, a Model Unit... It would've been great if we'd fought for it earlier."
"They must have pulled strings. If they'd applied normally, it wouldn't have been their turn in a lifetime."
Annex Building.
Office.
Dong Xuebin directed people to carry out work at the Nursing Home, while he sat behind his desk, puffing away at a cigarette with a dark, shifting expression. What Dong Xuebin needed most right now was an eye-catching political achievement. He had offended so many people as soon as he arrived, had not aligned himself with any faction, and had no leaders in the district who could speak for him. That was why his relationship with the district had grown increasingly distant. During this meeting, he had clearly sensed the district and the other street offices excluding him, as though they intended to marginalize him. That was not a good sign, and it put a great deal of pressure on him. But if Dong Xuebin could secure an achievement so outstanding that no one could say a word