Chapter 76: What Constitutes the Greatest Danger

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Qin Anyi had no intention of starting a conversation, and Wei Qinghai didn’t mind. He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, exhaled a smoke ring, and seemed to sink into thought. After a good while, he continued, “At present, our greatest problem is reckless decision-making without oversight, arbitrary actions without effective supervision, and the increasingly severe issue of privilege. All of these stem from a vacuum in the supervision of power.”

Qin Anyi looked at Wei Qinghai calmly, then suddenly spoke: “I actually believe that this problem isn’t unique to our country—it’s a global issue. Humanity is inherently selfish; whenever someone acquires enough power, corruption will inevitably follow. No matter how stringent the regulations, it’s impossible to eradicate it completely. No speech or attitude can change this reality.”

Wei Qinghai raised his eyebrows, indicating for Qin Anyi to go on.

Qin Anyi nodded, took a sip of water, then continued slowly: “We always say the greatest threat is corruption. Many top leaders have declared that corruption could lead to the downfall of both party and nation. But in truth, these are only surface phenomena. Our greatest danger isn’t corruption itself—it’s becoming isolated from the people. From originally trusting and relying on the masses, we have shifted to fearing and guarding against them. Corruption is just a result; the real root lies in this psychological transformation, in the sense of superiority that looks down on all beneath.”

Wei Qinghai’s demeanor finally changed, because Qin Anyi had hit the crux of the matter. If he were having a private chat with another high-level official, Wei Qinghai wouldn’t have been surprised at all. The issue was that the person who had just voiced these thoughts was only a high school student! Even most adults could never see things so clearly. And this student possessed another identity that was impossible to ignore.

Wei Qinghai frowned slightly. “It’s impressive that you can see through to this point. Share all your thoughts—I believe I’ll gain much from them.”

Qin Anyi took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice neutral as he said, “We often observe that many things common in Western countries simply don’t work here. This is the clearest sign of our alienation from the people. For example, we have the world’s largest public spending on official business, and it’s legal and justified. Internationally, the most effective way to check such spending is public oversight, but our government simply doesn’t listen to the people’s opinions! In Germany, when a minister spent a night in a hotel paid for by someone else, he had to step down after the story broke. In our country, that’s unimaginable—and ordinary people wouldn’t dare hope for such accountability.”

“In our bureaucracy, there’s an unwritten rule: as long as you’re not pocketing the money directly, it doesn’t count as corruption, and nothing serious will ever come of it. Is that really fighting corruption? The root of public spending lies in the government. Without budget allocations, no one would have the money for so-called working meals! When the government has too much liquid cash, why not spend it? Should they hand it back? Should they leave it for the people to improve their lives? Our officials will never be so noble.”

Unconsciously, Qin Anyi’s voice had grown louder. At first, he only intended to state certain facts objectively, but as he spoke he realized he was finding it increasingly hard to contain his emotions.

“And then there’s our housing prices, which far surpass the income level of the people. In the past eight years, even the city with the lowest increase has seen prices triple, while in some cases they’ve increased tenfold. The personnel in government remain the same, officials have ears and can hear the outcry of the people, and they make plenty of nice-sounding statements—they know perfectly well that the people are dissatisfied.”

“Yet the problem persists, unresolved. On one hand, they say corruption threatens the party and the country; on the other, they do things that depart completely from the will of the people! Because they know the people’s dissatisfaction doesn’t matter. Their hats, their cash, their houses, their mistresses—none of it has anything to do with whether the people are satisfied or not!”

“Do you remember the issue of genetically modified food? According to the elites’ so-called international alignment, this is something that should have been discussed with the people—at the very least, it should have been debated in the National People’s Congress, even if only for show. So how did the government handle it? A handful of people decided the food security of 1.3 billion citizens! May I ask, on whose behalf were they acting? Who empowered them to make decisions about the survival of more than a billion lives? Such alienation from the majority can only happen here! Did the government consider the consequences? Who has such immense power that they can so casually determine the fate of so many?”

As he spoke, Qin Anyi unconsciously stood up, his expression impassioned as he stared directly at Wei Qinghai, questioning him loudly like a true representative of the people.

Faced with Qin Anyi’s challenge, Wei Qinghai remained silent, unable to offer any response.

“There’s one crucial feature of our country: at any level of government, as long as an official wants something done, nothing can stand in their way. The rights of the people are secondary…”

A vice-minister personally pouring water for an eighteen-year-old high school student—in a nation so obsessed with status, this was an extraordinary sign of respect.

“So what does this moderation tactic have to do with us?” Qin Anyi, now completely composed, asked calmly. Though only eighteen, Qin Anyi truly had the makings of an impassioned reformer. Otherwise, he would not have erupted so forcefully when facing the secretary of the Changqing Municipal Party Committee. After so many years of witnessing injustice without any outlet for his feelings, now, suddenly sitting face-to-face with a genuine local official discussing these issues, the flood of pent-up frustration poured out like a breached dam.

“We hope to create an organization that can truly exercise supervisory authority—one that cannot, like the Disciplinary Inspection Commission, become a tool for political struggle. It must have an absolutely independent structure and system, with no ties whatsoever to the current body of officials, and it must possess overwhelming power and information-gathering capabilities—and, most importantly, absolute loyalty to the nation.”

Wei Qinghai spoke solemnly, “That’s why the Honorary Dragon Riders have come into our focus.”