Yan Fu did not enjoy being an official. This "elderly handsome man" was multi-lingual, possessor of vast erudition, and a man of noble character. Whether in practical matters or theoretical ones, he was a first-rate talent of the late Qing and early Republican era. Yet, Yan Fu did not like officialdom because he truly did not understand, nor did he truly like, the machinations of the late Qing bureaucracy.

By the cultural standards of "New China," Yan Fu was a man of impeccably high academic credentials. In 1866, he enrolled in the Mawei Shipping Academy, majoring in navigation. Five years later, in 1872, he graduated with distinction and spent the next five years as an intern on the warships *Jianwei* and *Yangwu*. From 1877 to 1879, Yan Fu and others were sent as government-sponsored students to Britain. They didn't study at some "West Pacific University" or similar diploma mill, but at the world's finest naval institutions. He first attended Portsmouth University and later transferred to the Royal Naval College, Greenwich.

Upon returning from his studies, Yan Fu taught at the Beiyang Naval Academy, then the highest naval institution in China. He started as a junior instructor and worked his way up to Superintendent—equivalent to the President of a naval academy today. During his tenure, he was also involved in the operation and construction of the Tianjin Machine Bureau, which was then the largest military industrial enterprise in China and even Asia. With such credentials and experience in New China, Yan Fu would undoubtedly be a figure of immense renown.

Add to this his achievements as a translator and his actions as a "thinker" of sorts. Should Yan Fu pass away, the news would be broadcast on the national evening news; state leaders would personally attend the memorial service, bowing three times to his body draped in the Party flag. Media reports and news stories commemorating his life and contributions would continue for some time.

However, in the era of the Manchu Qing, Yan Fu's true status was awkward. He could only be called "not much of anything." This was because Yan Fu "lacked a degree." Due to his father's death in 1866 when Yan Fu was twelve, he was forced to abandon the "proper path of the Imperial Examinations" and instead enter a vocational school where the state provided jobs.

In 1872 (the 11th year of Tongzhi), Yan Fu obtained the qualification for an expectant circuit intendant. In 1889 (the 15th year of Guangxi), he purchased the rank of sub-prefect and was appointed to wait for a vacancy as a prefect, being assigned as the deputy superintendent of the Beiyang Naval Academy. On October 8, 1891 (the 16th year of Guangxi), Yan Fu obtained the rank of candidate intendant. This was because Li Hongzhang, in a petition for awards for the development of the navy, mentioned in an attached list: "Lü Yaodou, an expectant intendant of Zhili, is proposed to be placed at the head of the candidate list for appointment," and "the expectant prefects Ma Fuheng, Bao Lanzheng, and Yan Fu are proposed to be exempted from the selection for their current rank and instead be chosen early for vacancies as intendants."

If one were to compare his academic background and relevant positions to New China, Yan Fu's experience could be described as: "Due to Yan Fu having always been engaged in the naval profession and failing to pass the civil service examination, all of his positions were merely temporary contract work."

It sounds absurd, but in the era of the Manchu Qing, this was perfectly normal. In that age, "all paths are low, only scholarship is high." One took the examinations to become an official, and one became an official to rule over others. As for professional knowledge—especially naval knowledge—it was not considered an academic background particularly worthy of respect or recognition. Such a background was certainly not equal to that of the Imperial Examinations.

The reason the Manchu Qing system was called "backward" was precisely because it failed to comprehensively introduce a scientific system. It was called "corrupt" because it was essentially opposed to equality and sought to maintain hierarchy.

Yan Fu's naval and industrial education and experience meant he could never become a member of the acknowledged "ruling class" within that system. The knowledge and understanding he had accumulated in his profession made him a misfit within that order.

Of course, Yan Fu hadn't failed to "resist." After becoming an official, he sat for the Imperial Examinations four times and suffered crushing defeats each time. Later, when he had gained a certain level of influence, he even designed a new "educational system." But these "resistances" were ultimately futile; they could change neither Yan Fu's fate nor the fate of China.

It was only after Yan Fu joined the base areas that he truly found the "sense of belonging" he had dreamt of.

The system established by the People's Party—or rather, the system Chen Ke had established—was a comprehensive copy of New China. Through compulsory education, it ensured the masses could effectively communicate with society through knowledge. Professional education was used to train the vocational abilities of the laborers. "All people are equal; in the revolution, there is only a difference in division of labor, not in status or dignity." This was a slogan Chen Ke had copied.

In the new Chinese educational system Yan Fu had once designed, he had also bashfully tried to replace the Imperial Examinations with compulsory education. While his dream was still a mere paper design, the People's Party had already vigorously begun implementing the new educational system. As one of the few "professional military laborers" in China at the time who possessed both theory and practice, Yan Fu suddenly found that all his credentials received extremely high evaluations within this new regime.

Whether serving as the Minister of Education or the Principal of the Naval Academy, Yan Fu clearly saw that what the People's Party respected was not merely which university he had attended, but the professional knowledge and abilities he had gained through study. The People's Party's educational system was not fostering people whose sole purpose was to be officials; it was fostering laborers who could get things done. Officials were selected through an internal mechanism from the laborers of various industries.

The frustrations of Yan Fu's life were dispelled in the base areas, and his lifelong hopes were realized there. This was one of the fundamental reasons he was wholeheartedly committed to the revolution.

When the letter from Yuan Shikai inviting him to serve as the Premier of the Republic's cabinet reached his hands, the first feeling of this "elderly handsome man" was: "Yuan Xiangcheng, you must be joking."

The officialdom of the late Qing had left Yan Fu with too many "not at all beautiful" memories. To abandon the comfortable days of exercising his talents in the base areas and run off to be a "Premier" destined to be obstructed by all sides—to suffer a second time—Yan Fu believed that unless he had lost his mind, he would absolutely never engage in such nonsense.

However, Chen Ke's attitude surprised him. After reading the letter Yan Fu presented, Chen Ke said calmly, "Comrade Yan Fu, if the Organization requires you to serve as this Premier, are you willing to go?"

"Why?" Yan Fu asked seriously.

"I will speak specifically about this at the meeting," Chen Ke replied, still calm.

According to the observations of the cadres in the base areas, generally speaking, when Chen Ke adopted such a calm expression, it meant something had happened, and he had gathered all his mental faculties to face the problem. Rather than calling it a feigned calmness, it was better described as a self-adjustment Chen Ke made before entering a state of intense struggle.

"When is the meeting?"

"Immediately."

***

Chen Ke, like the vast majority of people born in the 1970s and 80s, had a certain aversion to propaganda, considering most of it to be empty talk. Similarly, he was often moved to tears by the heroic deeds of the Party's martyrs in history.

It was only after he began the revolution himself that Chen Ke gradually developed his own analysis. Propaganda after the Reform and Opening-up era rarely discussed the specific processes of how things were done. Instead, it took a few "heroic acts," magnified them without limit, and then gilded them. What was originally a good thing, after such processing, turned into something revolting.

Take the frequently appearing phrase "regarding death as going home." When facing danger, anyone would first seek their own safety and avoid death. Any human being would choose thus. Chen Ke absolutely did not want to die an untimely death, for that was written in the most fundamental part of human genes—it was a human instinct.

But the position Chen Ke now held made it inevitable that he would become a target for assassination by various forces. Faced with this fact, he could only accept it and not fear it at all. To complete his current work, he needed to stay alive and keep working. Just as when he moved through the battlefield, he had to kill the enemy to complete the mission rather than prioritizing his own safety.

This was a form of "regarding death as going home," but not because Chen Ke personally possessed some world-shaking virtue. All of this was merely a "requirement of the work." Chen Ke had no right to demand his safety be placed above the work. If he feared death, he could have abandoned the task long ago; since he had taken the job, he had to willingly bear the risks it brought.

With this mindset, Chen Ke felt nothing at all about the plan to assassinate him. There was neither anger nor unease. Facing a group of comrades who were burning with rage after learning the news, Chen Ke spoke calmly: "Yuan Keding is a man of no talent. He is merely one among many who want to carry out an assassination. Again: who are our enemies, and who are our friends? This is the primary question of the revolution. Not just for the revolution as a whole, but based on the different interests in every single matter—each will have its own friends and enemies. Today's enemy might be tomorrow's collaborator, and today's friend might be tomorrow's rival over interests. Everyone must remain calm."

"We absolutely cannot let Yuan Keding off, let alone Yuan Shikai!" Pang Zi had already begun shouting.

"That's right! They want to assassinate us? Let's strike first and eliminate the whole Yuan family!" Chai Qingguo followed up.

Within the Workers' and Peasants' Revolutionary Army, there were many who held irreconcilable blood feuds with Yuan Shikai's Beiyang clique. Although Wu Xingchen's character was relatively composed, his eyes were also flashing at this moment.

While a normal person could certainly choose such a response, Chen Ke believed the People's Party must not. This wasn't "magnanimity"; rather, the People's Party represented the interests of the people who needed revolution—it represented China's most fundamental interests. Thus, when he was threatened, not only could he not put his own emotions first, but he had to put China's interests at the very front.

"Comrades, Yuan Keding's hostility toward me is not because of a personal grudge; he is hostile toward the entire People's Party. When we consider this problem, we must do so from the perspective of our People's Party," Chen Ke said.

As soon as Chen Ke finished, Pang Zi replied fiercely, "If friends come, we have fine wine; if jackals come, we have hunting rifles! Chairman Chen, considering this from the perspective of our People's Party, we absolutely cannot let that son of a bitch off! Just say the word, and I'll go to Beijing right now and bring that brat's head back for everyone!"

Pang Zi's words, filled with the People's Party's "action-oriented" style, forced Chen Ke to smile. "Alright, then my words were flawed. We must not only consider the problem from the perspective of the People's Party; we must first consider it from the perspective of China. If it were just Yuan Keding alone who wanted to assassinate me, it wouldn't be surprising. In truth, there are countless former landlords and gentry in the base areas who want to kill me. We took their land; hatred based on such interests can never be eliminated. Do you think Yuan Shikai doesn't want to kill me? He does. Aside from the Beiyang clique, do the other provinces that feel threatened by our People's Party not want to kill me? It's not just us Chinese; the Germans want to kill me now, and the foreign powers who realize the People's Party is guarding China's fundamental interests all want to kill me. Even some foreign companies at the level of commercial competition want to kill me."

Hearing Chen Ke list the various targets of contradiction, Pang Zi went silent. The comrades of the People's Party firmly believed their actions were absolutely righteous, and with the Party moving from one victory to another, they had inevitably begun to ignore their enemies. Now, listening to Chen Ke explain the conflicting parties at every level, everyone suddenly realized that, without noticing it, the People's Party had reached a situation where enemies were everywhere.

"In this matter, did everyone notice one thing? Yuan Keding first paid visits to a group of foreign ministers. In other words, besides domestic forces, foreign powers have intervened in this matter, trying to secure their own interests through it." Chen Ke led the discussion to a new level.

"We can even fight the German devils; we have nothing to fear." Pang Zi had not participated in the Central Committee's earliest discussions on reaching a temporary agreement with Beiyang, so he still had a "fearless" style. The battle to capture Qingdao had indeed given him sufficient confidence. Many other comrades were not so optimistic; at least, no one supported Pang Zi's attitude.

The People's Party's meeting system was a comprehensive copy of the Party back home; it was very democratic, relying on presenting facts and reasoning to persuade rather than using status to suppress. Chen Ke could dominate the meetings he attended because he knew more and considered things more comprehensively; he could gain sufficient support by persuading other comrades.

Now, with the growth of the People's Party's power, more comrades were able to engage with the world at a higher and broader level. Furthermore, the People's Party did not hide facts internally, nor did it rely on a monopoly of knowledge to secure its position. Even if the comrades' innate talents didn't reach the world's top level, their insight and experience were extremely considerable.

Quickly, the British were excluded from the range of those supporting or inciting the assassination. What the British sought was the success of the trade quota; once a full-scale conflict between the People's Party and Beiyang broke out, the result would be the immediate evaporation of the economic interests the British were about to secure. This wasn't to say the British wouldn't support assassinating Chen Ke, but rather that they wouldn't support it *now*.

The "Russian bears" were relatively straightforward; their external goal was to seize land. Logically, if a Chinese civil war broke out, they would be very happy. However, Chen Ke believed the possibility of them being involved in such a thing was actually not great. The problem with the Russians was a lack of strategic wit; if they participated, they would sincerely want to make the assassination succeed. But the current "Yuan Keding assassination conspiracy" existed in all ways except for having the possibility of success. This was absolutely not the Russian way of thinking.

In China and the Far East, the French followed the British. It was possible they would instinctively blow the problem out of proportion, but the possibility of them forcefully pushing such an agenda was low.

The Germans seemed the most suspicious, but in fact, German interests would be extremely difficult to guarantee in such a chaotic situation. The British had long wanted to squeeze the Germans out of the Far East. The heavy artillery of the Qingdao fortress was all pointed toward the sea; there were very few pointed toward the land. The British would absolutely never allow the Germans to take advantage of the chaos to re-occupy Qingdao.

As for Yuan Shikai, who seemed the most suspicious, Yuan Keding's actions were less about "helping his father" and more about "harming his father." It was obvious that Yuan Shikai was not prepared for war with the People's Party; in a sense, he was also a victim of this incident. If the assassination succeeded and Chen Ke were killed, the People's Party would never let Yuan Shikai off. Setting aside the mobilization of the four hundred thousand Workers' and Peasants' Revolutionary Army, even just mobilizing the hundred thousand troops in Huaihai Province—combined with the "heroes" of Shandong and Hebei who had once ravaged Beijing—the People's Party would not only destroy the Beiyang regime but could also wipe out the entire families of all Beiyang officials.

What remained were the Japanese, a deluded Yuan Keding, and some fringe forces with ulterior motives.

"This sounds like a conspiracy," Pang Zi said. He wasn't stupid at all; the reason for his earlier loss of composure was his deep-rooted hatred for Yuan Shikai, and his belief that this was a step before some major power formally declared all-out war—the "decapitation tactic" Chen Ke had spoken of before.

But after the discussion, the action indeed looked like a carefully planned conspiracy. The planner hid in the shadows, waiting for the deceived parties to strike, waiting to seize benefits.

Wu Xingchen spoke up. "Commander Pang, besides being Yuan Shikai's son, Yuan Keding is nothing. Because what he represents is merely his personal interest; he can't even represent the interests of his father. And Yuan Keding thinks himself very clever, believing his actions can realize his own interests. If no one provided him with support, he would never dare do such a thing on his own. Since someone is working hard to push this, it's most reliable to look for the instigator based on the resulting changes in interest."

When it came to playing at conspiracy, Pang Zi was no novice. When he fled to the Taihang Mountains, he had played the game of "fire-fighting Wang Lun." With his mindset corrected, he did not oppose Wu Xingchen's view.

Seeing that everyone now had the correct train of thought, Chen Ke said loudly, "Comrades, if this matter comes to light and becomes known to the world, it means we will have completely broken with Beiyang. China's temporary stability will be shattered, and the nation will enter an all-out civil war. At least at this moment, such a civil war would be an act that greatly harms China's interests."

Having cast aside personal stances and emotional influence, the comrades all agreed with this view.

Seeing that no one opposed him, Chen Ke continued loudly, "Then, we must define these people. The planners of this matter are attempting to gain their own interests by triggering a Chinese civil war; they are placing their own interests above China's. These people—whether Chinese or foreign—are enemies. Not just enemies of our People's Party, but enemies of the entire nation of China. Against the enemies of China, our People's Party will never let them off!"