Marrying My Bestie's Ferocious Brother - He Calls Me His Baby! Chapter 290 - 289: Reporting Me for Ideological Errors?

Renminhua Magazine Editorial Departnt.

The door to the conference room was pushed open from the outside.

Three middle-aged n in cadre uniforms walked in.

The man leading them was around fifty, with a square face and an aura of authority. Behind him were two young n taking notes.

Ma Zhenhua followed behind them, holding a briefcase, standing tall and straight.

He was not here for a eting today.

He was here to witness a trial.

Sun Ping stood up from his seat, his face showing no expression.

"Mr. Zhou."

The visitor was nad Zhou, the head of the investigation team sent by the General Political Departnt’s Propaganda Departnt.

Mr. Zhou did not exchange pleasantries, directly placing a docunt on the conference table.

"Comrade Sun Ping, have a seat."

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable pressure.

In the conference room, several core mbers of the editorial departnt kept their heads down, not daring to breathe loudly.

Ma Zhenhua sat down next to the investigation team, cleared his throat.

"Mr. Zhou, I already reported the situation to you on the way here."

He glanced at Sun Ping, as if looking at a stubborn figure about to fall.

"The impact of this matter is very bad!"

"As the party’s mouthpiece, how can Renminhua Magazine publish such works filled with negative emotions, promoting personal suffering?"

"This is a typical example of ideological ground being lost! It is a betrayal of our frontline soldiers who are fighting bloody battles!"

The more Ma Zhenhua spoke, the more agitated he beca, his fingers tapping the table repeatedly.

"Comrade Sun Ping, your personal ideological decline has led to the entire editorial departnt’s directional error, this responsibility, you must bear!"

Heavy accusations were laid down.

Each one enough to crush a person.

Mr. Zhou did not stop Ma Zhenhua, he just looked at Sun Ping.

"Comrade Sun Ping, what do you think about the issues raised by Comrade Ma Zhenhua?"

All eyes were focused on Sun Ping.

Sun Ping picked up his enal teacup, blew away the tea leaves.

He did not rush to defend himself.

Nor was he angry.

He even smiled slightly.

"Mr. Zhou."

He put down the teacup, making a soft "clink" sound.

"I am not the one to decide if the work is good or not, or if it’s poisonous grass."

He glanced at the indignant Ma Zhenhua beside him.

"Mr. Ma is also not the one to decide."

Sun Ping stood up, walked to the window, watching the crowd coming and going below.

"The eyes of the people are sharp."

Ma Zhenhua sneered: "Sun Ping, don’t use the masses as your shield! The masses have been deceived by you!"

Sun Ping ignored him.

He simply clapped his hands towards the young editor standing at the door.

"Xiao Wang, bring the things in."

"Sure!"

The young editor responded, turned, and ran out.

Soon, two young n appeared at the conference room door, struggling to drag in two huge burlap sacks.

The sacks were bulging, their contents unknown.

"Put them here." Sun Ping pointed to an empty spot in the center of the conference room.

Under the puzzled gazes of the investigation team and Ma Zhenhua, the two young editors untied the sack ropes.

They grabbed the bottom of the sacks and gave a fierce shake.

"Rustle"

Snow-white envelopes poured out of the sacks like a flood bursting through a dam.

In an instant, a small mountain ford on the conference room floor.

Then ca the second sack.

Another mountain of letters.

The entire conference room was so silent that the sound of a pin dropping could be heard.

The three mbers of the investigation team stood up from their chairs.

They looked at this impressive scene, speechless.

Ma Zhenhua’s face turned white instantly.

"This... what is this?"

Sun Ping walked to the pile of letters, bent down to pick one up, and handed it to Mr. Zhou.

"Mr. Zhou, this is the voice of the people."

"All the reader letters we received since the magazine was published yesterday are here."

"Not a single one is missing."

Mr. Zhou did not accept it.

He bent down, personally selecting a random letter from the mountain of letters.

The envelope had no stamp and the handwriting was rough.

The return address was: Western Border, Red Flag Post.

He opened the envelope.

The paper was coarse, like the back of so kind of packaging paper.

Mr. Zhou adjusted his glasses and began to read the letter.

"To our most beloved family comrades:"

"We are soldiers stationed at the Western Border defense line. The entire post saw your picture. As everyone passed around the newspaper, many began to cry as they looked at it."

"Not out of sadness, but joy."

"We feel that the people we protect truly care for us and our families."

Mr. Zhou’s voice was steady.

He continued to read.

"We don’t have much to offer you. These are spent shell casings from our shooting practice, polished by ourselves. They’re not worth much, just a token from the brothers."

"We’ve nad it the ’Military Spouse Comndation dal.’"

"This first one, must belong to you."

At this point, Mr. Zhou’s voice had a faint, hard-to-detect tremor.

He turned the letter over; the back was filled with dozens of crooked signatures.

Li Daniu, Zhang Tiezhu, Wang Jianjun...

Mr. Zhou carefully folded the letter back into the envelope.

He looked up, addressing the two young mbers behind him.

"Open."

"Open and read them too."

The two young people imdiately sprang into action, bending down to randomly pick letters from the pile.

"This one’s from a female worker at Hongxing Machinery Factory!"

"’Dear comrade, I am a mother of a child. I used to feel very bitter and useless. But after seeing your picture, I realized that every day I nd and wash, I’m also fighting. Thank you for helping see my worth.’"

"This one’s from a Beijing University student!"

"’Teacher, my dad is a soldier. I always thought my mom was annoying. Seeing your picture, I realized how hard it was for her. Yesterday, for the first ti, I helped her wash the dishes.’"

"This one... this one’s anonymous, with five yuan inside, saying the column must keep going!"

One letter.

Ten letters.

A hundred letters.

From workers, from farrs, from students, from all over the country, from all walks of life...

Not a single critical letter.

No complaints.

All were words of gratitude.

All were resonances.

All were support.

In the conference room, only the sound of letters being read remained, accompanied by the quiet sobbing of a young mber who could no longer hold back his emotions.

Ma Zhenhua stood there, stiff, his face shifting from white to blue, then to a deathly gray.

The mountain of letters before him felt like a massive weight, pressing down on him, leaving him breathless.

"Absurd!"

He could no longer hold back, shouting hoarsely.

"These are all incited irrational emotions! It’s the petty bourgeoisie’s unaningful moaning! They can’t serve as a standard for judgnt!"

"Mr. Zhou, we must uphold our principles! We cannot be blinded by these things..."

"Bang!"

A loud bang.

Mr. Zhou forcefully slamd the letter from the border post onto the conference table.

He interrupted Ma Zhenhua.

With a low voice, each word carried imnse weight.

"Comrade Ma Zhenhua, did you hear it?"

Mr. Zhou pointed at the letters scattered all over the floor.

"This is the voice of the people."

He paused, looking intensely at the pale-faced Ma Zhenhua.

"It seems your ideas have already placed you in opposition to the people."