The story begins in 2007.
That year, Zhou Hailiang was 26, a Tsinghua master’s graduate and a selected graduate assigned to government service.
Before he left, someone gave him a reminder:
Go work at the grassroots for a few years. Start at the subdistrict office and take it slowly. Don’t rush.
He asked, “Should I give the people below a heads-up?”
The reply was, “You don’t need to worry about that.”
So Zhou Hailiang went.
When the staff at the subdistrict office saw his résumé, they asked:
A Tsinghua graduate? What’s he doing here?
Some said he was there to polish his credentials.
Some treated him like a workhorse.
Others laughed at him:
He studied himself stupid. A selected graduate assigned to a subdistrict office? This is as far as he’ll ever get.
Zhou Hailiang said nothing.
Only he knew the truth:
This was a test, not a dead end.
He never forgot the words spoken before he left.
Five years later, he transferred to the district government.
Five years after that, he went to the city.
Five more years, and he was in the province.
Twenty years later, when he looked back on the road he had traveled,
he finally understood what those words meant:
A prime minister must rise from the local administrations, and a fierce general must come from the ranks.
This wasn’t luck. It was the political ascent of a selected graduate.
