Many years later, when people look back on Bai Qi’s years in Jizhou, they will talk about many things: the wind power crisis, the environmental protection campaign, cutting excess industrial capacity, the fight against poverty, and the three major strategies. But Bai Qi himself rarely speaks of any of it. A notebook from ten years ago remains locked in his desk drawer. On its first page are the words, “Treading on thin ice.” On its last page, it says: “Where did I come from, and where am I going? There will never be a standard answer to that question. But one thing is certain: every step I take must stand up to the scrutiny of history. Ten years in Jizhou, with the mountains and rivers as silent witnesses. I did what I had to do. The rest is for time to decide.” Outside the window, the old locust tree’s leaves turn green, then yellow, then green again. The clivia blooms year after year, its orange-red flowers like tiny lamps.
