Nominal: Starting with an entrance exam for a PhD in Economics at Peking University

"This morning, we met with several parties and reached a fairly consensus." Han Shen's tone remained calm, but every word carried weight. "Comrade Sha Ruijin will serve for another year to ensure a smooth transition. After one year, you will take over."

"At 49, he won the provincial championship. Although he didn't set a record, his future possibilities are limitless."

"While Handong isn't exactly in dire need of rebuilding right now, the situation is complex and extremely challenging. If you want to lay the foundation for the future, you need to achieve outstanding results. Do you have the confidence?"

Qi Tongwei looked out the window, his thoughts racing, as if he had returned to his past life, back to Lone Eagle Ridge...

An airplane flew overhead, pulling him back to reality. He answered decisively:

"It's all up to human effort!"

(End of the book)

First Author's Closing Remarks

When I typed "The End" I was in a daze.

It's been seven months since I started writing this book. I'm a new author, I don't have any alternate accounts, and I have no experience whatsoever. This is my first novel published online.

Looking back now, many aspects could have been handled better—the pacing, character development, and plot development all have their shortcomings. But regardless, this book is like my first child; it stumbled and struggled, but it was finally born.

Thank you all for your continued support and companionship. Every comment, every donation, and every request for more updates is my greatest motivation when I'm writing late into the night. Thank you so much.

Many readers found the ending abrupt and felt unsatisfied. Actually, I wrote nearly eight thousand words in the past two days, detailing the chain reaction within the Han Dong officialdom, the diverse characters of officials at all levels, and Zhao Lichun's struggles and counterattacks. I revised it several times, but ultimately deleted it all.

Why did I delete it? Because I felt it was wrong.

The struggle has reached this point, with Zhao Lichun using the economic stability of Handong as a bargaining chip. It would be unreasonable for higher-level organizations to delay intervening and making a statement. Allowing Sha Ruijin and Zhao Lichun to continue their entanglement on the Handong chessboard is logically untenable.

To put it bluntly, Handong is no longer Handong under the Party.

I've also carefully crafted several outlines about "power struggles at the top," such as the intervention of higher-level forces, the power struggles between factions, and so on. I showed the outlines to a few close friends, and they all said they were alright, but they also reminded me that these things are too sensitive, and I could easily cross the line. As everyone knows, in the current environment, once I write it out, no one can guarantee that the entire book won't be taken down.

After much hesitation, I finally decided to give up. It's not that I didn't want to write, but I simply didn't dare to take the risk.

I still want my first book to remain on the internet.

Moreover, even now, my editor is Fanfan, and no editor can ask me anything—and editors can't guarantee anything about this kind of thing either.

Therefore, rather than taking huge risks and ending up with only a heavily edited and unrecognizable version, it's better to stop here.

Dear readers, you may not know this, but even now, I can no longer see the paragraph comments for the latest chapters in my author backend.

Before I started writing the book, I thought I definitely wouldn't be able to stick with it and would most likely abandon it. But I didn't expect that, despite all the ups and downs, I still managed to finish it.

Of course, I know it's definitely going to be a flop. But let me console myself a little—it's just a minor flop.

Finally, I really want to say sorry to everyone, especially to those readers who have been following the story and refreshing the page every day for updates. The updates were relatively stable in the early stages of the book; I even received a perfect attendance award for two months – who would have thought?

But in the later stages, the problems mentioned above began to bother me. The more I wrote, the more conflicted I became, and the slower I wrote. I basically updated once every two days, and sometimes even once every three days.

I know many people gave up on the book because of this, while others have been urging me to update and encouraging me in the comments section.

Looking at those comments, I felt a pang of sadness. It's not that I don't want to update; I actually spend more time sitting at my desk these days than when I used to update daily—but as a newbie, constantly revising the outline and experiencing writer's block, besides constantly losing hair, there's really no other way.

I'm sorry to disappoint everyone.

However, although the story has ended, there are still many characters whose stories haven't been fully explained. I plan to take a few days off, adjust my mindset, and then write a few side stories.

—Leave a message here if you want to see a spin-off of a particular character.

As for my next book, I plan to switch gears and try writing historical fiction. After all, historical fiction is essentially fan fiction!

The key is that the scope of historical texts is relatively easier to control, and there are fewer restrictions.

Finally, thank you again to all the readers!

The journey through life is long, see you in the next book!

P.S.: Many people asked if I had a reader group, but I was too busy to focus on that, so I just created one.

Extra 1 Gao Yuliang (Part 1)

Autumn morning, 1992

Department of Political Science and Law, Handong University; Jurisprudence and Legal History Teaching and Research Section.

Gao Yuliang walked in with a teacup in hand and a smile on his face, as composed as ever.

He greeted his colleagues in the office warmly, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then strolled into his director's office.

Thirty-six years old this year, he has served as the director of the Jurisprudence and Legal History Teaching and Research Section for three years. In the academic circles of Handong Province, he is a recognized young talent—he has solid scholarship, writes beautifully, and has a rare gentle demeanor in his dealings with others. Many teachers and students say privately that he has a bright future.

However, in the eyes of those who are interested, the phrase "a promising future" carries a significant question mark.

Not long after, a man who looked to be about thirty years old walked in.

This man had a dignified appearance, but there was an underlying sense of unease between his brows. When the lecturers in the teaching and research office saw him, they immediately stood up to greet him, some calling him "Director Ouyang" and others "Teacher Ouyang."

The visitor was named Ou Yangguang, deputy director of the Litigation Law Teaching and Research Office. He nodded slightly in response, his gaze already sweeping over the crowd as he peered inside: "Is Yuliang here?"

"Our director is in his office."

Ou Yang walked straight in, and when he arrived at Gao Yuliang's office, he pushed the door open without knocking.

Gao Yuliang was looking down at a document when he heard the voice. He looked up, saw it was him, and smiled slightly: "Ouyang is here. Have a seat."

Ou Yangguang sat down in the chair opposite him and immediately began to speak, his tone indignant:

"Yu Liang, tell me, Shen Yan is becoming more and more outrageous."

Gao Yuliang put down the documents, his expression calm but tinged with helplessness: "What's wrong with Director Shen now?"

“What else could have happened?” Ou Yangguang put his cup on the table. “I had a research proposal, and I was going through the proper procedures. The college asked him to sign it, and guess what he said? He said my research direction was ‘not closely related to the department’s main research area’ and that I should re-evaluate it.”

He sneered, "What do you mean by insufficient relevance? Is only his direction correct? Just because he studied abroad for half a year, he thinks he's superior? Is he just afraid I'll make a breakthrough in another area and he'll lose face? Yu Liang, let me tell you, this guy is petty and cunning. He's all smiles on the surface, but behind your back..."

He paused, not finishing his sentence, but the meaning was clear.

Gao Yuliang remained noncommittal, simply listening with a smile, neither agreeing nor refuting.

After venting his frustrations, Ou Yangguang felt a little better and was about to speak again when suddenly a series of noisy footsteps came from the hallway, followed by someone shouting something from outside the window.

The two exchanged a glance, then walked to the window and looked down.

A police car was parked at the entrance of the compound, and several police officers were standing in front of the building. Not long after, Kong Fanli, the head of the Department of Political Science and Law, was escorted into the police car, looking dejected and walking unsteadily, sandwiched between two staff members.

A large number of people had already gathered in the upstairs corridor, pointing and whispering, creating a buzzing sound.

Gao Yuliang watched from upstairs, his face serious and his eyes deep.

The political science and law system held an emergency meeting.

In the conference room, the heads of each teaching and research office sat down, and the atmosphere was tense.

Yan Zhenbang, the director of the Criminal Law Department, sat at the head of the long table. He was almost seventy years old, with gray hair, but his back was still straight.

He was one of the founding members of the Department of Political Science and Law at Handong University. The entire department was built brick by brick by him and another founding member, and he held immense prestige within the department.

However, he resigned from the position of department head because he was tired of the complicated daily administrative affairs. But the department head, Kong Fanli, was his senior disciple and also the one he had pushed into the position. Kong Fanli always went through the department's affairs first, and then consulted him on important matters.

Shen Yan, the director of the Department of Procedural Law, who was sitting next to him, spoke first and briefly explained the situation: Department Director Kong Fanli had been taken away by the police to cooperate with the investigation due to his conduct issues, which had a bad influence.

The words had barely left his lips when a murmur of discussion arose. Some sighed, some shook their heads, some whispered amongst themselves, and others spoke up directly, suggesting:

"Whether or not you can ask someone to pull some strings, ultimately it's a matter of personal morality!"

Yan Zhenbang, who was sitting at the head of the table, suddenly slammed his hand on the table, startling everyone.

"enough."

The old man's voice wasn't loud, but it was as heavy as a falling stone, and the conference room fell silent instantly.

“Our Department of Political Science and Law is a place to teach political science and law.” Yan Zhenbang glanced around, his gray eyebrows furrowing into a line. “We ourselves know and understand the law, yet the students we teach haven’t even entered society yet, and they’re already seeing their teachers here discussing how to pull strings and use connections?”

"When you stand on the podium in the future, will you be able to stand up straight? Will you feel guilty when you speak?"

Kong Fanli was a disciple personally trained by Yan Zhenbang. When the college entrance examination was reinstated in 1977, Kong Fanli was already over 30 years old. After being admitted to Handong University, he followed Yan Zhenbang all the way from undergraduate to doctoral studies. For many years, he was regarded as the successor of Yan Zhenbang's mantle, embodying the old man's deepest expectations and pride.

However, at this moment, seeing that Yan Zhenbang's words had sealed his future, none of the people present dared to speak again.

Yan Zhenbang paused for a moment, then said in a calm tone, "I suggest that Kong Fanli be removed from his position as department head, and submit this to the school committee."

After the meeting, the old man stood up, his spine still straight, his steps still steady, and slowly walked out. But everyone saw it—his back trembled slightly at the end of the corridor, like an old tree that had weathered many storms, its roots still firmly planted, but its branches trembling silently in the autumn wind.

With their own thoughts, everyone left one after another.

When Gao Yuliang returned to his office, Ou Yangguang was already waiting there. Upon seeing him enter, Ou Yangguang immediately approached him and asked in a low voice, "What do you mean?"

Gao Yuliang sat down in the chair, picked up his teacup, and slowly recounted what had happened.

After listening, Ou Yangguang remained silent for a long time, then murmured, "Senior Brother Kong... how could he have made such a mistake?" He shook his head, his expression showing genuine regret.

Ou Yangguang was Professor Yan's last disciple. He was young and not a graduate of the "Old Three Classes" (referring to students who graduated from high school in 1966, 1967, and 1968). He was Professor Yan's last doctoral student, so you could say he was his last disciple.

Back then, they were both students under Master Yan. Kong Fanli was much older than him and took good care of him, his junior brother who had just entered the sect. He remembered this kindness in his heart.

Gao Yuliang looked at him for a moment, his gaze sharpening slightly, then spoke as if nothing had happened:

"With Director Kong's actions, the political and legal system is now leaderless. Although Elder Yan has always been our backbone, he is inevitably exhausted after such a blow... Ouyang, at this time, you should go and see Elder Yan."

Ou Yangguang nodded thoughtfully and quickly stood up: "You're right, I'll go over now."

Gao Yuliang watched him leave, then lowered his head again, stroking the teacup in his hand, remaining silent.

That night, Gao Yuliang returned home.

Wu Huifen brought over some tea, sat down opposite him, and sighed, "I heard about what happened this morning. Kong Fanli, it's such a pity."

She paused, glanced at her husband, and said softly with regret, "Yuliang, if your teacher hadn't passed away so early... Kong Fanli wouldn't have been chosen as the department head two years ago. Whether it's academic achievements or popularity among the younger generation, how could Kong Fanli possibly compete with you?"

Gao Yuliang's mentor was another veteran of the Department of Political Science and Law, who, together with Yan Zhenbang, established the department in a barren land. However, this old gentleman had always been in poor health and passed away a few years ago.

Without this great mentor, no matter how learned or popular Gao Yuliang was, he could only retreat and remain humble in the face of Yan Zhenbang's brilliance and influence, and was marginalized.

Yan Zhenbang himself never took the initiative to target anyone—his stature was such that he didn't need to lift a finger; simply standing there was enough to give his students all the advantages of the situation.

Gao Yuliang shook his head and said calmly, "It's not for that. It's just... if my teacher were still here, how much knowledge and character could he have taught me? That's what I truly regret."

When he said this, even Wu Huifen couldn't quite tell how much of it was true and how much was false.

A moment later, he raised his head again, his eyes resolute: "However, even if the teacher is gone, this path may still be viable."

Wu Huifen frowned: "Professor Yan's qualifications and prestige are undeniable, and his students are all over the department. How can you possibly get around him?"