A leisurely life starting in a bar after being reborn

Fu Yan is known for his swift and decisive actions.

The day after delivering the New Year's gifts, he called Lin Xiaochen and asked her to contact the Bincheng City Public Security Bureau, saying that someone wanted to donate police vehicles. Lin Xiaochen asked in whose name, and Fu Yan thought for a moment and said, "Just say thank you to Liang Qingshan for helping maintain order at the fish market. Also, mention that he's now a contract police officer at the Bincheng City Public Security Bureau, with thirty years of service."

Lin Xiaochen was silent for two seconds: "Understood."

Then Fu Yan called Zhang Lei at the car dealership and asked him to ask the manager to expedite the order of twenty cars for him—five Santanas, five Jettas, and ten Passats. Zhang Lei almost thought he misheard on the other end of the phone. Fu Yan said they weren't Volvos; he asked Zhang Lei to get other brands for him, any brand would do, as long as it was fast and had to be in place before the New Year.

Zhang Lei had been working in the auto market for two years and had a wide network of connections, knowing all the leaders there. Within two days, he had secured all twenty cars—the Santanas were sourced from SAIC Volkswagen, while the Jettas and Passats came from FAW-Volkswagen. Twenty cars, totaling less than 2.5 million yuan, an astronomical sum for others, but a mere fraction of what Zhang Lei considered a fortune.

The most difficult part is dealing with the Public Security Bureau.

Lin Xiaochen contacted the Logistics and Equipment Section of Bincheng Public Security Bureau under the guise of a "philanthropist." At first, the other party thought it was a scam—who would donate twenty police cars for no reason? But after Lin Xiaochen sent the bank guarantee letter, the head of the Equipment Section called back personally, changing his tone from "Which unit are you from?" to "When would be a suitable time for the ceremony?"

The efficiency is ridiculously high.

On January 29th, the 25th day of the twelfth lunar month, a brief donation ceremony was held in the courtyard of the Bincheng City Public Security Bureau.

There were no media outlets, no banners, only a single red banner that read, "Ceremony for Social Philanthropists to Donate Police Vehicles to Bincheng City Public Security Bureau." Twenty brand-new cars were neatly parked in the courtyard. The Santanas and Jettas were painted in blue and white police livery, while the Passats were black and were intended for the bureau's leaders.

Dozens of police officers stood in the courtyard, whispering among themselves, all trying to guess who this "philanthropist" was.

Liang Qingshan was also in the crowd.

He was summoned by the section chief, who said, "It's related to this donation, so you have to be there." He stood in the last row, wearing his faded police uniform, looking completely bewildered.

Then the bureau chief went on stage, said a few words of thanks, and then announced—"This donation was made possible by Comrade Liang Qingshan of our bureau. Comrade Liang Qingshan has dedicated himself to the public security front for thirty years, working diligently and silently. Today's act of kindness is a tribute to Comrade Liang Qingshan's thirty years of perseverance!"

The entire audience applauded.

Liang Qingshan was stunned.

He stood at the very back of the crowd, rooted to the spot like an old tree stump, his mouth agape, unable to close it for a long time. A colleague next to him nudged him: "Old Liang! It's you! Go up there!"

"What? Me?"

"Go upstairs! The chief is calling you!"

Liang Qingshan was pushed onto the stage in a daze. The bureau chief shook his hand vigorously. The red light on the camera flashed a few times. He even forgot what to say and just stood there like a statue.

Liang Qingshan only came to his senses after the ceremony ended and the keys to the twenty cars were handed over to the bureau leaders.

He took out his phone, his hands trembling, and dialed a number.

"Xiao Yan! Explain yourself!"

"Uncle, don't get agitated."

"Twenty cars! You donated twenty cars to me?!" Liang Qingshan's voice was so loud it startled the police officers nearby. "Are you crazy?!"

"I'm not crazy." Fu Yan was sitting on the sofa at home, legs crossed, drinking tea. "Uncle, let me ask you, you've worked in the bureau for thirty years, how come you haven't been transferred to an administrative position yet?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Because I can't just change my job position whenever I want; it needs approval from above..." Liang Qingshan's tone weakened.

"So these twenty cars are to pave the way for you. Think about it, nominally because of you, some social enterprises or individuals donated twenty police cars. Everyone in the bureau remembers your kindness. What's a transfer in rank? Besides, your seniority and experience are enough; you just needed a push, and I simply provided that push."

"But this is too... too extravagant. Twenty cars, that must cost at least two or three million, right?"

"Uncle, listen to me." Fu Yan put down his teacup, his voice becoming serious. "First, the money I donated is tax-deductible, so it's not a waste. Second, and more importantly—from today onwards, the families of us still living in Bincheng will have a government connection."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, I donated twenty police cars in your name. The Public Security Bureau remembers your kindness, and they will remember mine because of you. If my parents encounter any trouble in Bincheng in the future, or if my aunt and uncle need help, will the bureau not give them face? Not only the Public Security Bureau, but the district leaders also see it—this family is rich and kind-hearted, and they even donated twenty police cars. Who wouldn't give them some face?"

Liang Qingshan remained silent for a long time on the other end of the phone.

"Xiao Yan... what's wrong with your head..." His voice was a little hoarse, "You're only thirty-one years old, how come you think more than a sixty-year-old man?"

"I'm just trying to help you."

"But this money..."

"Uncle, this amount of money is really nothing to me." Fu Yan's tone became more relaxed. "Just keep the benefits. By the way, don't tell my parents and aunt about this. Just think of it as the bureau taking care of an older colleague. Don't mention me."

"What about your aunt..." Liang Qingshan hesitated for a moment, "What if she finds out..."

"You won't know. I've already spoken to the bureau; this donation won't be publicized. At most, there will be a tiny news item in the newspaper. Just relax and wait for your permanent position transfer."

Liang Qingshan remained silent for a while, then finally let out a heavy sigh.

"Xiaoyan, thank you, Uncle."

"What are you thanking me for? We're family, why are you speaking like that?"

After hanging up the phone, Fu Yan leaned back on the sofa and let out a long sigh.

It wasn't handled perfectly, but it worked. Liang Qingshan had been stuck in the police force for thirty years; he was capable, but he lacked connections and background. His status as a contract worker was like a wall, keeping him outside the official ranks. Now, with the prestige of twenty police cars, that wall crumbled on its own.

More importantly, Fu Yan laid out a network of relationships for the entire family in Bincheng—it didn't need to be conspicuous, but it was useful in crucial moments.

The next day, sure enough, only a tiny news item, barely the size of a palm, appeared in a corner of page six of the Bincheng Evening News:

"Philanthropists donate police vehicles to the Municipal Public Security Bureau"

The accompanying photo was blurry; Liang Qingshan was standing in the last row, his face almost invisible.

Only Liang Qingshan knew that the old man standing in the crowd, lost in thought, was the true protagonist of this ceremony.

……