That afternoon, Dong Xuebin and the Street Office cadres saw Minister Xue off.
Once the leader had left, Dong Xuebin did not have anyone accompany him. He waved everyone back to work, then inspected the Street Office by himself. The meal just now had been far from ideal. Xue Qingrong had not mentioned anything work-related, and second-in-command Geng Xinke had not taken the lead in introducing himself. Thinking back over all those unfamiliar faces at the table, Dong Xuebin was still completely in the dark, unable even to match them with their positions. From that alone, he had picked up on one thing: his arrival did not seem to be welcome.
The main building, the annex, the parking lot, the Administrative Service Hall.
Dong Xuebin made a round of each place.
"Director Dong."
"Director."
"Secretary Dong."
The Street Office staff all greeted him respectfully. They called him all sorts of things, but Dong Xuebin was both Secretary and Director, so none of them were wrong.
Dong Xuebin smiled and nodded. He did not give any orders, simply continuing to look around without saying much.
It was not until around one-thirty in the afternoon that Dong Xuebin went upstairs in the annex and found a door bearing the sign "Party Committee Secretary's Office." He gave the handle a slight twist, and the door opened. A broad desk, a leather sofa, several swivel chairs, a bookcase—the room immediately gave off a solemn atmosphere. This was his office, and it felt far more imposing than his office at the Investment Bureau.
Sitting down, Dong Xuebin crossed one leg over the other and lit a cigarette.
Knock, knock. A knock came right after.
"Come in." Dong Xuebin stubbed out his cigarette and looked up.
A middle-aged woman entered, around forty years old. Her long