Afternoon.
The temperature had risen a little.
Several electric fans in the Investment Bureau office area had been turned on, whirring as they blew air around. The only Window Air Conditioner was broken and had yet to be repaired.
It was a little hot.
But still within tolerable limits.
After finishing his speech, Dong Xuebin sat down and worked alongside everyone else. If they worked overtime, he worked overtime too; if they worked, he worked as well, putting on the appearance of sharing hardships with them. But it was not just an act—Dong Xuebin truly did work that way, and very seriously at that. The office was filled with busy sounds: typing, phone calls, documents being printed. Everyone had been stirred into action—or perhaps forced into it. Dong Xuebin's method of offering a carrot before wielding the stick had made them all feel the pressure.
Just then, Zheng Dayou came looking for Dong Xuebin.
"County Chief Dong."
"Old Zheng, what is it?"
"Could we speak somewhere privately?"
"Sure. Let's go to your office."
The two entered the director's office and shut the door.
Dong Xuebin sat down on the sofa, pulled out two cigarettes, and handed one to Zheng Dayou. They lit up and began puffing away amid the smoke.
"Go ahead, Old Zheng," Dong Xuebin said.
Zheng Dayou hesitated. "There were people downstairs earlier, so I didn't feel comfortable saying anything. County Chief Dong, I'll be honest—you may not like hearing this. I know the county is in a difficult position right now and urgently needs investment promotion as a long-term source of fiscal support. Only then will we have a chance to fundamentally turn around our county's financial shortage. I understand all that. But the problem is, our county's actual conditions are simply too poor. You've seen the