At two o'clock in the morning, there was no one on the spacious streets of Beihai City. The snowflakes in the winter night were flying all over the sky, covering the silver decorations of Beihai City. Zhang Yan drove Mazda aimlessly. Just a quarter of an hour ago, a telecom acquaintance called him. Due to various reasons, the final winner of the telecom 08 system bid was Fujitsu, and his company lost all its money. Millions of investment finally turned into water, which became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

"Hahaha, the money has been gone and I'm back. I'm drunk today!" Zhang Yan picked up a bottle of wine and drank it. Standing on the top floor of the highest financial building in Beihai City, Zhang Yan climbed onto the guardrail, jumped for life, and merged into the boundless darkness.

When Zhang Yan regained consciousness again, his eyes were pitch black, and there was a hard wooden bed under him, and a thin quilt covered his body. The room was filled with a pungent smell of paint. Where is this? Zhang Yan's mind was in chaos. Didn't he jump off the building? How could he jump here?

With the faint light outside the door, Zhang Yan saw a certificate posted on the wall against the bed, and could only vaguely see a few words "Fourth Primary School No. 1". In Zhang Yan's memory, this certificate was the certificate of first place in the second grade of elementary school. He always valued this certificate, but during a moving house, the certificate was lost, and Zhang Yan remembered that he had cried for a day.

But now, this certificate of award magically appeared on a slightly yellowed wall, as if time had turned back and yesterday had reappeared. He reached out and touched the certificate, and felt that the certificate was temporarily new. Zhang Yan was happy and full of doubts. What was going on, why could he see this lost certificate, and the certificate was so new.

"Magnolia, I'm going to Nanjing..." The familiar voice seemed more powerful than what I remembered, but Zhang Yan could still hear it. It was the voice of his father Zhang Yurong. However, it was younger and more powerful than what I remembered. This was the voice of his father more than ten years ago! Zhang Yan raised his head and saw only a green painted wooden door. The light outside the house was covered by the curtains, and a little bit of dim light came through.

"You can't go. You've done a good job in the political research office. When you leave, Director Ma will see you? Are you still going to do it?"

My mother's voice is also young, but the content in her words surprised Zhang Yan. The Political Research Office! The full name is Yinzhou Municipal Policy Research Office, which is a special policy research institution of the government.

In Zhang Yan's impression, his father was a top student at Beihai University of Finance and Economics, but he was very lucky. He was on the way to the countryside when he graduated. He returned to work at Yinzhou Foreign Trade Bureau after the end of *. More than ten years ago, his father did work in the Political Research Office. He became the section chief by a stockholder within just three months. However, he left the Political Research Office and returned to his original foreign trade bureau when he was working well. Then after several years of ups and downs, the Foreign Trade Bureau became worse and worse until he finally went bankrupt. However, the Political Research Office became better and better. Director Ma Zixing, the Political Research Office, was finally promoted to permanent deputy mayor of Yinzhou City, in charge of economic work. If his father did not leave the Political Research Office, his father, as Ma Zixing's secretary, would definitely have a bright future.

Zhang Yan asked his father several times why he left the Political Research Office, but his father was vague. Only once did his father drink too much, he showed a little bit of scent. At that time, his father patted his shoulder and said in a drunken state: "Boy, being an official is not the most important thing for a person to live for a lifetime, family and friends are the most important."

Zhang Yan remembered it very clearly because his father patted him very hard, and his right shoulder hurt the next day, so his schoolbag could only be worn on his left shoulder. However, since then, his father never drank alcohol, quit smoking, and had no smile on his face. He was gloomy all day long. Zhang Yan felt very distressed for such a father.

Maybe now I can figure out the reason why my father left the Political Research Office. Zhang Yan didn't care about anything else and pricked up his ears and listened to the voices outside:

"Brother has something happened, I want to go there immediately. As for the unit, I agreed with Director Ma that the 10-day holiday has been approved, and there will be no major problems..." Zhang Yan's ears stretched longer and his body slowly came out, fearing that a word would be missed. In his memory, his father left the Political Research Office after he went to Nanjing once, and he did not have a good summer vacation after that.

With a gentle sound, Dad was going to the train station. Zhang Yan jumped out of bed and walked quickly to the yard. At this time, it was Qi Mingxing hanging high, and the sky was about to break out. With the faint starlight, you could vaguely see the situation outside. A small yard, a wall made of red brick walls, and more than a dozen boxes were placed close to the base of the wall, with a pile of furry quails squeezed inside. My father was pushing the old 28 bicycle, and a large travel bag was placed on the back seat of the car, and my mother was closing the door.

Zhang Yan hurried over and said to his mother: "Mom, you have to go to work today, so don't send him to your father. Anyway, I'm on holiday, so I'll send him to your mother!" After saying that, Zhang Yan was a little nervous. He didn't know what his mother would say. Maybe his memory was wrong?

"Okay, let Xiao Shitou take me away. You are very busy. Don't be late when you have to go to work!" Zhang Yurong smiled and touched Zhang Yan's head, waved his hand to say goodbye to his wife, and the father and son walked side by side to the train station. At this time, there were basically no people on the street, and the sound of the father and son's footsteps spread far away in the quiet morning light.

"Dad, I want to ask you something?"

"What's the matter?"

"Are you not working in the political research office?" Zhang Yan glanced at his father in his eyes, trying to see something from it.

Zhang Yurong was shocked and looked at his son in disbelief. In this moment, he even felt that his son was a little too smart, "How did you know."

Zhang Yan lowered his head and asked back, "Dad, do you not want to do it anymore?"

"Don't ask about these things at the kid's house." Zhang Yurong ended the conversation with a little irritable urgency, her lips closed tightly and never spoke again. She only reminded Zhang Yan when she was approaching the train station: "I have a manuscript in my study. I'm in a hurry and forgot to tell your mother. You go back and hand the manuscript to Director Ma. It's the old horse who came to our house last Spring Festival, the fat uncle with a big nose. Do you understand?"

After walking out of the platform, Zhang Yan had already understood one thing, that is, his father did not want to leave the political research office, but he left in the end. This means that Director Ma Zixing must be a little dissatisfied with his father, so he asked his father to leave the political research office. He figured out that the problem was a good thing, but Zhang Yan had no confidence in untiing this knot, and this was a bad thing.

When I got home, I found that my mother had already started work. There were prepared food on the kitchen table. Zhang Yan also ate with the bowls and chopsticks. Everything was so familiar and there was no discomfort. After dinner, Zhang Yan pushed open the door of the study. The study was only five or six square meters, and a somewhat mottled office desk, plus the large bookcase against the wall, occupied most of the study. On the desk were neatly stacked with a stack of manuscript paper, and a calendar was pressed on the manuscript, and the date on it was July 1, 1990. Zhang Yan smiled bitterly, put the calendar down and read the manuscript carefully.

My father's strong and powerful handwriting immediately caught my eye: "How long can the Soviet Union's red flag be beaten?" Zhang Yan held down the manuscript paper and read it slowly. The corner of his mouth felt curled up. This article by his father has a good analysis of the situation of the Soviet Union and is also very good at the willingness to cause the Soviet crisis, but the conclusion is a bit conservative, believing that the Soviet Union will fall into a crisis in the short term and then rise again through a long rectification.

In fact, this also reflects the mentality of the Chinese people. They are not willing to be too strong or unwilling to fall of the Soviet Union, because once the Soviet Union falls, China, as the last socialist country, will be attacked by the United States with all its strength, and China's strength is far inferior to the Soviet Union.

However, Zhang Yan knew that the current situation of the Soviet Union was so bad that it could not be worse, and it was only half a year before the formal disintegration. The international situation after the disintegration was not as bad as China imagined. The United States turned its attention to the Middle East. Under Uncle Sam's deception, Iraq sent troops to annex Kuwait, but in the end it was discovered that what was waiting for them was not oil, but the overwhelming bombing of the Americans.

Based on the impression in my memory, Zhang Yan took out a few pieces of manuscript paper and started writing slowly... Although he was thinking well in his mind, he was a little mixed with garlic on the paper. A 3,000-word article lasted for five or six hours. When he finished writing the last word, Zhang Yan found that it was almost half past five and only half an hour before he got off work in the Political Research Office.

"Uncle, I am Zhang Yurong's son. My father forgot to give it to Director Ma for information. I asked me to take it to Director Ma." In front of the gate of the Political Research Office, Zhang Yan begged the old man who was guarding the door. The old man who was guarding the door was wearing an old grass-green military uniform, with a pair of cloudy eyes, and his tall body stood at the door like a mountain, just one sentence: "No! Only relevant personnel in the Political Research Office can enter and exit, you little kid cannot go in."

Seeing that it was really not possible, Zhang Yan had no moves, so he took out his last move and climbed the wall! The Political Research Office is a three-story red brick building, and the wall outside is only more than one person high, so it is not difficult to get up. Zhang Yan walked around the wall to a secluded place. Seeing that there was no one on the left, he folded the manuscript first and flipped over easily.
Chapter completed!