Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

Chapter 155 Administrative Closed Loop

Yang walked along the winding path for twenty minutes until he reached the intersection of a gravel path. The smell of ink and chemical solvents began to fill the air.

He paused briefly, and in the darkness he saw a van, the outline of a brick house at the end of the road, and something in front of the brick house that looked like a person, and that thing was moving.

Yang Zheng took a breath, hunched over to avoid becoming too conspicuous, and hid in the bushes beside the truck. He felt his adrenaline surge; whenever he smelled a big exclusive, he would tremble all over. This feeling represented: love and intoxication, blindness and insight, meaning and madness. His fellow journalists sometimes discussed the excitement of digging for exclusives, but this feeling wasn't excitement; it was something else entirely. He only knew that this feeling could help him, drive him, and energize him to carry out his work; he didn't want to know anything else, not even a little bit.

Yang Zheng seemed to hear a sound and immediately looked up, focusing intently on the darkness before him. Now he could see that the things moving in front of the brick house were indeed figures, and more than one. What were they doing? It looked like they were moving things. Were they trying to run away?

He picked up the Canon PowerShot S50 digital camera, switched to M mode (manual mode), set the aperture to f/2.8, locked the ISO at 0, and set the shutter speed to two seconds. This setting allows the lens to collect more light and, through long exposure, accumulates several seconds of light into a single photograph, thus revealing shadow details that are indistinguishable to the human eye.

He raised his camera, aimed the lens at the brick house, manually focused, estimated the distance, and pressed the shutter. Two seconds later, a photo appeared on the LCD screen. The figures in front of the brick house were stretched into several semi-transparent streaks of light, one of them bending over and picking up a dark, square object. Was that a sack? Were they really trying to destroy evidence and run away?

He changed his angle and took a few more pictures to ensure he had enough evidence. Mission accomplished. Suddenly, he froze. What was that sound? He held his breath, listening intently in the darkness, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end. But what gave him goosebumps wasn't the rustling sound from the grass behind him, but the large hand gripping his collarbone tightly. Then he heard a hoarse voice beside his ear: "Damn it, what are you doing?"

"Damn it, fuck it!" Ah Shan cursed and sprinted towards the street corner.

He was utterly bewildered. Everything had happened so fast. As he turned to run back, he slipped at the intersection, landing on his buttocks, but immediately got up without feeling any pain. When he saw the figure approaching, he tried to shake a nearby branch to warn the reporter, but that brain-dead reporter was like a madman, just snapping away with his broken camera!

Just because he has a camera around his neck doesn't mean he's a war correspondent! This is Beizhuqiao Village, not Iraq! Damn, he's walking on this gravel road like he's stepping on landmines; his footsteps are so loud even the dogs at the village entrance don't bother barking. Because they can tell at a glance that some clueless idiot has arrived!

We've been squatting here for so many days, practically drained of blood by mosquitoes, just to keep an eye on those bastards and prevent them from running away. And what did you do? You just casually strolled into the yard, holding your camera like a machine gun. Were you planning to turn on the flash and take a family photo of them?

I was shaking this tree branch so hard my hands were almost broken, are you deaf? Are those two holes in your head for breathing or eating? And then what? Then someone put their hand on your shoulder, and you froze like you'd been paralyzed. Where did that "I'm digging for an exclusive" spirit go? You thought you were so capable? Go ahead and run! Go ahead and shout!

I'll have to call the police for you and clean up your mess.

Fuck!

Do you think this is writing a manuscript? Do you think you can control the danger? Do you think that as long as you're smart and careful enough, nothing will happen?

fart!

You have absolutely no idea what those guys do. You have absolutely no idea how remote this place is. You have absolutely no idea... you fucking know nothing! You idiot! If tonight there aren't just thugs carrying goods in that yard, and there are some guys with knives, then you just wait. Tomorrow's newspaper won't have your report on the front page, it'll be your obituary!

"Damn it, you idiot!" Ah Shan roared.

"Are you crazy? Keep your voice down!" Ah Yong leaned out of the car window, utterly astonished. "Who are you yelling at?"

"Still young? What do you mean 'still young'? Damn it, it's all over!"

Ah Yong opened his mouth wide in surprise.

"Still standing there?" Ah Shan jumped into the car, slammed the door, and said, "Drive! Call the police!"

Yang tried to struggle with all his might, but when the man grabbed him with his iron claws and his throat was pressed against by cold metal, his legs went weak.

"This is a butcher's knife, kid. We'll use it to cut up pigs; you won't believe how easy it is."

Then the man told him to open his mouth wide, stuffed a dirty cloth into it, and ordered him to lie face down with his hands behind his back. Yang Zheng didn't comply immediately, and the sharp knife pierced below his ear. He felt warm blood flowing down his shoulder and into his T-shirt.

He lay down on the damp grass, and the man sat on him, placing a box next to his face. He looked inside the box; it was a kind of plastic packing tape. These tiny packing tapes, often used to tie cables or wrap toys, were annoying because they only got tighter, never loosener, and no matter how thin they were, they couldn't be broken. He felt the sharp plastic digging into the skin of his wrists and ankles.

The man picked up a burlap sack and put it over his head. Complete darkness enveloped him.

Han Fei was awakened by the noise and threw off the blanket covering his head.

A flash of light appeared in the darkness. Han Fei grabbed his vibrating, glowing phone from the bedside table.

"Mr. Ma, what is it?"

"Han Fei, something's happened at the hideout."

Han Fei sat up straight: "What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes and listened quietly to the phone call.

Could it be Yang Zheng? When Han Fei proposed the media briefing, Yang Zheng was the only reporter among the four media outlets who suggested a separate, in-depth investigation.

After Ma Yongxing hung up, Han Fei dialed Yang Zheng's cell phone. He dialed twice. No one answered. Just as expected.

Han Fei sat and listened to the disconnected phone call for a while, then threw the phone onto the bed and looked out at the desolate street.

Ma Yongxing's men have already reported the incident to the police. While the police can rescue the victims, they cannot determine whether "Stories of the People" is an illegal publication, nor will they treat the crime scene as a hideout for illegal publications. Therefore, the nature of the case will change from a complex administrative and criminal case involving "illegal publication" and "violent resistance to law enforcement" to two completely unrelated independent cases: a "public security incident" and "illegal publication." This could potentially lead to the awkward situation where the perpetrators are arrested, the goods remain, but no one determines the goods are illegal. This would negatively impact, and even hinder, subsequent public opinion and administrative accountability.

If only the police are involved, the media may downplay the core issue of "illegal publishing" in their reports, reducing the entire incident to an isolated public security incident of "a reporter being attacked while conducting an undercover investigation." The core illegal nature of the "People's Stories" black market chain will be significantly diluted in the process of public opinion and administrative procedures.

Jiang Shi. Only by having the Press and Publication Bureau intervene simultaneously at this time can the complex administrative and criminal nature of the case be maintained, forming a complete accountability loop. This characterization of the case will allow the focus of reporting to return to "combating illegal publications," which is more beneficial to Qingniao's rights protection, the crackdown on rural channels, and public opinion regarding Yang Zheng personally.

But how can we reasonably let Jiang Shi know that "the hideout is in Beizhuqiao Village" and "Yang Zhengzheng was attacked inside" without exposing the illegal intelligence source?

Han Fei took a deep breath, got out of bed, went into his study, and pulled out a copy of the *Xinmin Evening News* from a pile of books. He found the newspaper's 24-hour hotline on the page and picked up his phone to make the call.

The phone was answered, and a nasal voice came through, announcing the newspaper's name.

"Hello, I'm looking for Yang Zheng, a reporter from your culture section," Han Fei said.

"Now?"

Han Fei knew that the question meant: Do you know what time it is?

"He's not here. What can I do for you? Call me again during the day."

"Wait a minute," Han Fei said. "I'm Han Fei, the president of Qingniao Publishing House. Reporter Yang interviewed me a couple of days ago. I urgently need to speak with him, but I haven't been able to get through to his cell phone. Could you transfer me to his home address, or tell me if he has any interview assignments tonight?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. "Is this President Han? Uh, but... Professor Yang Zheng... we really don't have access to his private schedule. Perhaps... you could call again tomorrow morning?"

"Could you please give me your editor-in-chief's phone number?"

"Well... our newspaper has a rule that we can't just give our employees' private phone numbers to outsiders."

"Listen," Han Fei said, "during Yang Zheng's last interview, I sensed his strong interest in the illegal publications issue. Now I can't reach him by phone, and I'm worried something might have happened to him. I need you to ask the night shift supervisor for me, or give me a way to contact Yang Zheng's family. If that's not possible, then please contact the editor-in-chief and tell him that Han Fei from Qingniao has an urgent matter concerning Yang Zheng's safety. If the editor-in-chief doesn't think it's necessary to reply, then I accept it. But if something really happens to Yang Zheng, and your newspaper holds you accountable tomorrow, can you handle the consequences?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"President Han, please wait a moment."

The other party hung up the phone.

Less than a minute later, Han Fei's phone rang. The editor-in-chief of the Xinmin Evening News gave Han Fei the answer he wanted to hear in a tense and almost trembling voice.

"Yang Zheng... he's sometimes too independent. This afternoon he came to the newspaper office, saying he was going to Beizhuqiao Village to scout locations, take some photos, and then come back. I told him it was too late and he could go tomorrow, but he said those people wouldn't show up during the day, so it had to be at night. I couldn't stop him. When he left, he said he'd probably be back before midnight, and that he needed to rush to write his article. It's already 1 a.m. now..."

Han Fei hung up the phone before he could finish speaking, and then immediately called Jiang Shi.

"Section Chief Jiang, it's late, but I have an urgent matter. I confirmed with the editor-in-chief of the *Xinmin Evening News* that their reporter, Yang Zheng, went to Beizhuqiao Village tonight, which is the suspected location of the *People's Stories* magazine we previously reported as a hideout, for an undercover investigation. The editor-in-chief said Yang Zheng should be back by midnight at the latest, but he's been out of contact ever since, and no one is answering his phone. I'm worried that he's been taken into custody by the people at the hideout."

"President Han, you should call the police for this. Why are you coming to me?" Jiang Shiyong mumbled in a sleepy voice.

"You're right, of course I should call the police. But at the same time, I have to make this call to you. Because the place Yang Zheng went to was a production site for illegal publications. He was investigating illegal publications, fulfilling his duty as a journalist. Think about it, when the news comes out tomorrow, the headline will be 'Journalist Kidnapped While Investigating Illegal Production Site,' and the public's first question will be: Where is the Press and Publication Bureau? How do you usually supervise them?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's nothing, I'm just reminding you. We at Qingniao have officially reported this case to you, and you've signed the acceptance receipt. Now that the reporter has gone missing at the case's hideout, this matter is closely tied to your responsibilities. If you don't step in now, and something serious happens tomorrow, the first target of public scrutiny will be the Press and Publication Bureau."

Jiang Shi cleared his throat, expelling a wad of phlegm. "President Han, I understand your concerns. But in the middle of the night, I'm neither a police officer nor have law enforcement authority. What could I possibly do there?"

"Of course, I'm not asking you to personally make the arrests. I want you to immediately contact the local cultural enforcement team and the anti-pornography and anti-illegal publications office, and have them send people along. This is your legal duty. Then, in the name of the Press and Publication Bureau, notify the local public security department, informing them that this location is suspected of being a den of illegal publications, and that a reporter is trapped inside. The public security department will have a completely different priority when they receive your official letter. As for you personally, I suggest you also go to the scene to oversee the operation and ensure that the enforcement process does not deviate from the core issue of illegal publications. Section Chief Jiang, this isn't about asking you to do things for me; it's more about eliminating a huge risk for your own future. If you act now, you are proactively fulfilling your duties; if you wait until something happens to the reporter, you are passively taking the blame. Which do you choose?"

The breathing Han Fei heard on the other end of the phone revealed a bewildered reaction, as the other person had heard something unexpected and didn't know how to respond or whether to hang up. That was all.

"The editor-in-chief and the duty officer at the *Xinmin Evening News* already know about this," Han Fei said. "They're probably on their way there too. Once the newspaper staff arrive, there will be media witnesses on site. At that point, would you rather be there as the responsible department to direct operations, or be besieged at your office door tomorrow by reporters demanding why you didn't intervene beforehand? Section Chief Jiang, time waits for no one. I've said my piece; the decision is yours."