One piece of paper determines everything
What determines Quan Jinli's fate are two pieces of paper.
The first one was a yellow note slipped out of the file bag assigned by his provincial department. There is only one line of annotation on it that can penetrate the back of the paper and almost scratch the back of the paper: "Graduated from Jiangsu University, top scholar in law, no background. Can be used for 'training' at the grassroots level."
The second one was a note he found three years later when he woke up from a hangover in a strange room filled with the fragrance of soap locust. The handwriting is delicate but like a knife: "General staff: Alcohol is not an antidote. It is more poisonous to officialdom than alcohol. Be careful with it."
The first piece of paper brought him from the top of the provincial examination to this three-story building with mottled walls in Qingshi Town, Heyang County. For three years, he was like a forgotten screw, rusting among endless documents, cold eyes and the smell of alcohol.
The change began when he blocked the glass of wine that should not belong to her for a supporting teacher named Huang Wan. The price is getting drunk and waking up with a second piece of paper clutched in your hand.
He held the note and looked out the window at the muddy and winding rural streets. In the morning mist, a thin heat rises from the vendors selling breakfast. Everything is old, slow, but stubbornly persisting day after day.
At that moment, he understood that what he had blocked last night was not only a glass of wine, but also a stone thrown into this bottomless pool of muddy water.
The ripples have started and the storm is coming.
At that time, Quan Jinli didn't know how this fluttering note and the woman who wrote it would influence his thrilling career spanning thirty years, from a township clerk to a city leader.
[In this land of the smallest administrative unit, every inch of mud hides rules, and every breath is related to survival.
