Unlike Song Qingshan or Song Tingxiu with their buzz cuts, this man sported a stylishly swept-back 3:7 haircut like a movie star.

His slightly tanned forehead and sharply arched brows gave him a wild and striking appearance.

Indeed, this was Liu Minli’s older brother, Liu Zaiye.

“This is the Women’s Federation of Qingshui County?” Liu Zaiye swaggered out of the car, standing outside the courtyard gate.

He looked at the office, a few mixed-brick flat-roofed houses, and then scanned the area.

There were a few male comrades, but the rest were all women.

His younger sister, Liu Minli, was surprisingly giving a speech on the stage.

Meanwhile, the yard was filled with elderly, weak, sick, and disabled people—those living at the very bottom of society.

His younger brother, Liu Ming, handed Liu Zaiye his cup. “Leader, are we going to conduct our work here?”

Their so-called “work” could be summarized in a few words: bullying people.

Liu Zaiye was here this time because his sister had been bullied, and he came to back her up.

Of course, Liu Zaiye couldn’t tolerate the presence of landlords, rich peasants, counter-revolutionaries, or other undesirable elements infiltrating the revolutionary ranks.

He was determined to purge all harmful components.

“Is the material ready?” Liu Zaiye asked.

“It’s all prepared,” Liu Ming replied. “The most incriminating piece is something I found in the provincial archives—a photo of Su Xiangwan’s father with a Kuomintang officer. Song Qingshan married into a landlord family, Zhao Guodong allowed that landlord into our organization, and Li Yifan, knowing full well a counter-revolutionary was active nearby, turned a blind eye. This time, we’ll clean out Qingshui County from top to bottom.”

Liu Zaiye took the file folder, swaggered into the courtyard, and spotted Song Qingshan right away.

He took a couple of steps back and instructed Liu Ming, “Have all our men come in. Song Qingshan isn’t easy to deal with. If it comes to a fight, you might not be able to handle him.”

“What if we can’t beat him?” Liu Ming asked.

“If you can’t, provoke him. Make sure he starts hitting you. Once he does…”

“We run away?”

“Run? No! Stand there and take it. Once he finishes beating you, I’ll have a reason to arrest him.” Liu Zaiye spoke arrogantly.

Liu Ming glanced at Song Qingshan, who was sitting in the shade, holding a small stick and scribbling something on the ground.

He clenched his fist nervously, but then Song Qingshan suddenly raised his head.

This was the same Song Qingshan who had once evaded a thousand-man manhunt in Haixi, rolled across landmines to secure a battlefield on Zhenbao Island, and ensured his comrades could cross safely.

Liu Ming, looking at his own fist, felt a pang of fear. Before Song Qingshan’s sharp gaze could sweep over him, he quickly raised a hand to fix his hair.

Fine. He was here to get beaten.

As long as Song Qingshan hit him, Liu Zaiye would have an excuse to deal with him.

At that moment, Song Qingshan noticed Liu Zaiye entering the courtyard.

Song Qingshan was in the middle of explaining to two children how the Earth revolves around the Sun.

He thought to himself, I’m not a great teacher. No matter how much he explained, the little one still didn’t get it.

“Daddy, if Earth is round, why don’t the people at the bottom fall off?” asked the child, wide-eyed.

“You fool! The Earth has gravity, which pulls us like a magnet so we don’t fall off,” Li Chengze chimed in, sounding more like a teacher.

At that moment, Song Qingshan patted Li Chengze’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on the kids. Uncle has to see what Liu Zaiye is doing here.”

Li Chengze looked up and saw his childhood nightmare—the man with perpetually pale skin no matter how much time he spent in the sun.

Liu Zaiye was walking toward Su Xiangwan, holding a file folder.

File folders were everyone’s nightmare now. You never knew whose family tree might be inside.

In the small venue, Liu Minli looked anxious. Song Qingshan clenched his fists, and Liu Zaiye seemed ready to act. His gaze shifted toward Su Xiangwan, who stood in the shade.

But unexpectedly, Su Xiangwan walked up to the podium, holding her speech notes.

“Next, let’s welcome Comrade Liu Zaiye, chairman of the Qinzhou Revolutionary Committee, to address us,” she announced. “Don’t forget, comrades, this beautiful, talented, and dedicated supporter of the Women’s Federation, Liu Minli, owes her revolutionary awakening to the guidance of her brother, Comrade Liu Zaiye.”

Liu Zaiye froze in place, licking his sun-parched lips, his eyes fixed on Su Xiangwan.

“Comrade Liu Zaiye is the reddest of red warriors in all of Qinzhou. Let’s warmly welcome his speech, shall we?” Su Xiangwan continued.

The audience turned as one to stare at Liu Zaiye.

The book described Liu Zaiye’s thoughts the first time he saw Su Xiangwan: The heavens collapsed, the earth split, and the entire world stopped turning.

Indeed, Song Qingshan—stubborn as he was—had no idea that Liu Zaiye was the first scoundrel Su Xiangwan encountered after her divorce.

Handsome enough to make people stumble, but utterly scummy.

This wasn’t a story of romantic love at first sight. Liu Zaiye’s interest in Su Xiangwan stemmed from her resemblance to his deceased wife.

However, Liu Zaiye despised her lack of education and saw her beauty as her only merit.

After pursuing her and keeping her as his mistress for years, he discarded her once he was bored.

The truly destitute, or those suffering from severe illnesses, often carry a distinct pallor of despair on their faces—a kind of lifeless grayness.

It was the same expression Liu Zaiye’s wife wore in her final days, the very same one now seen on the faces of the people sitting in this gathering.

She had died of liver cirrhosis, succumbing to complications of ascites.

Liu Zaiye could never understand how someone so young could develop liver cirrhosis.

But illness does not discriminate, and with inadequate medical resources, his wife endured repeated paracenteses, her condition worsening each time. In the end, she passed away with a painfully swollen belly.

At that moment, she was clutching her stomach, muttering, “Zaiye, if what’s in my belly wasn’t just water but a child instead, how wonderful would that be? I could die without regrets.”

So, as Liu Zaiye stepped onto the stage, prepared to charge in with full force, he froze.

In his entire life, he could face anyone—except the sick.

The struggling families in the audience exchanged puzzled glances, looking at the young man who had suddenly barged in with a group of soldiers in green uniforms.

He appeared youthful, handsome, and pale-skinned—a city boy with an air of sophistication. But what would someone like him bring to their lives?

The microphone was placed in front of him. Liu Zaiye cleared his throat and said, “We’re here to carry out revolutionary work, not to chat idly or create a false sense of prosperity. Deputy Director Su, I heard you only completed two years of schooling?”

Her lack of education was a glaring flaw, something anyone could criticize to their heart’s content.

At this moment, Liu Zaiye both despised and looked down on Su Xiangwan.

Deep inside, he even felt a bit nauseated.

To him, his late wife was a pure and untouchable light, like the moon.

Who could have imagined that, in this remote county, there would be a lively, beautiful woman who bore a resemblance to her?

And yet, here she was, holding the microphone and preparing to introduce him.

She must be trying to curry favor, hoping he would show her leniency.

“Clear the area. I’m holding a meeting now,” Liu Zaiye said curtly.

“But everyone’s already here, and you, Director Liu, are such a renowned figure from the provincial capital. How about saying a few words to everyone?” Su Xiangwan handed the microphone back to him, her youthful face glowing with energy and vitality.

Liu Zaiye held the microphone. Originally, he planned to slam the table and launch into a revolutionary tirade.

But looking at the weary faces of grassroots people in the audience, how could he?

After all, his mission was to deal with landlords and counter-revolutionaries, not the laboring masses.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Liu Zaiye muttered hastily and impatiently handed the microphone back to Su Xiangwan.

Unexpectedly, she said into the microphone, “Comrades, do you know why Director Liu has come to our Women’s Federation today?”

Of course, no one knew.

Shaking their heads, they murmured, “No idea.”

“He’s here to donate money to every household, to help everyone through these tough times,” Su Xiangwan announced warmly.

The crowd—faces sallow and clothes ragged—burst into excitement. “Really?”

“Is that true? Director Liu is so kind!”

“He’s a great man! Look at how handsome he is—must come from a good family and has a heart as pure as a red star.”

Liu Zaiye licked his lips, clearly uneasy. Yes, he had money, but his stint in the army had shown him that without it, nothing could be done—not even saving his wife when she was sick.

At that moment, a thin girl stood up and shouted, “Uncle Liu, if you really help us, I’ll write a letter to the leader to thank you!”

A little boy chimed in, “Me too! I’ll write to the leader to thank you!”

Then, the two children stood up and began bowing repeatedly.

Both children had waxy-yellow complexions.

Seeing Liu Zaiye staring at the children, Su Xiangwan quickly explained, “They have hepatitis B. It spread because nurses at a school blood donation event didn’t disinfect the needles properly. How tragic.”

Coincidentally, Liu Zaiye’s wife had also died from complications related to hepatitis B.

He froze, unsure of his emotions. After a long pause, he said, “This is what we party members should do—no need for thanks.”

“How much is appropriate? Twenty per household? That’s really not much,” Su Xiangwan began clapping enthusiastically, her hands turning red.

Liu Zaiye reached into his pockets, but with thirty families, twenty per household added up to six hundred yuan—a sum he certainly didn’t have on him.

So he said, “How about this? Tonight, everyone comes to the county guesthouse, and I’ll give each family twenty yuan. I won’t go back on my word.”

Applause erupted throughout the crowd. The two children continued bowing deeply to Liu Zaiye, over and over.

Su Xiangwan smiled. “Alright, it’s been a long day. Let’s wrap up and let the cultural troupe’s girls escort everyone home.”

It was the weekend, and as soon as the meeting ended, people began heading back to their homes.

However, just as Su Xiangwan was about to step out of the courtyard, Liu Zaiye reached out and stopped her.

“Comrade Su, do you know that there are scoundrels in Qingshui County—landlords, rich peasants, counter-revolutionaries—hidden within our revolutionary ranks like tumors? Shouldn’t we remove them to keep our red revolutionary blood pure and clean?”

He was clearly targeting her background.

Before Su Xiangwan could respond, Song Qingshan stepped forward and pulled her behind him.

“Zaiye, do whatever you want in Qingshui County, but stay away from my family,” Song Qingshan warned, his voice low and firm.

“And if I don’t?” Liu Zaiye retorted.

The two had been rivals back in the provincial military district. Both had vied for a regimental position, but it was given to Song Qingshan.

Later, they competed for a special mission. Again, Song Qingshan was chosen, earning a first-class merit, while Liu Zaiye was left behind.

To Liu Zaiye, Song Qingshan was the one person he despised the most in this world.

“Please, give me some face,” Song Qingshan said, his voice heavy as he tightened his grip on Liu Zaiye.