The Shadow of Great Britain

Yang snorted, without smiling, ”You’re here because of our article ’Government Office’ from last week, aren’t you?”

Before Ledley could respond, Yang pulled out that report from his coat and slapped it on the table, starting with anger, ”Regarding this article, if there’s any error in it, there’s no need for you to come visiting. We would naturally publish an apology. But, can you point out even a single mistake in this article?”

Ledley was caught off guard by this, but soon realized it was Yang’s negotiation tactic, intending to overwhelm his opponent with momentum, making them retreat in fear.

However, it seemed Yang had misunderstood the situation. Ledley hadn’t even read the article titled ’Government Office.’

But since Yang brought it up, Ledley thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a look, perhaps uncovering some unexpected insights.

’Government Office’

This is a temporary dwelling place for numerous patriotic gentlemen, eagerly longing to serve their country—salaries ranging from 75 Pounds to 5,000 Pounds. These positions are usually extremely comfortable and pleasantly located around the Royal Gardens, ensuring the public servants won’t find it too taxing or annoying to perform duties like ”gazing out the window.”

The office interiors are predominantly decorated in a cold and elegant formal style, but the fireplaces are exceptionally designed. Once the Civil Servants spread their tailcoats, it provides just the right amount of pleasant warmth to their backs. The chairs employ a special cushioning technique befitting their official nature, aptly dubbed ”easy chairs,” constructed to neither put one to complete sleep nor disturb the precious daydreaming in which government clerks indulge for national welfare. The mahogany desks are meticulously adorned with initials and unique symbols written in official ink.

These items carry significant implications for the careless correspondents. The superior stationery and soft quill pens make it difficult to find excuses for neglecting duties, adept at gracefully accepting invitations from a higher position and adding undeniable authority to resolutely refusing tailors’ overdue bills. This top-grade paper, known as government document paper, is smooth as a mirror, an ideal canvas for Raphael-esque clerks. They love to sketch portraits of their superiors using early techniques of the classical art school, adding playful imaginary colors. As for the feather pen from the office? It’s already so well-known that additional elaboration is unnecessary. But should one need to distinguish authenticity, know that a genuine government quill must be fashioned from wings that can instantly transform into toothpicks.

Government departments generously supply various daily newspapers; scrutinizing these publications forms a primary duty for Civil Servants, and assisting in managing national affairs is their supreme honor. Their pay scale always adheres to the gentlemanly principle—maximum reward for minimal labor.

The most convenient path to government offices is through introductions by ruling party MPs. Independent voters can surely expect the tax office to reward them for voting with conscience. Loyal butlers securing bill discounts for their noble masters naturally view the Customs as a Noah’s Ark for their retirement. As for the MPs? They rightfully reckon they could snag a dignified post for their youngest son, serving as modest compensation for toiling in Parliament’s Lower House, napping for the party for hours on end.

...

At this point, Ledley’s heart skipped a beat.

He finally understood why Yang was taking such an aggressive stance. If the idle yet hypocritical bunch at White Hall saw this article, they might indeed cause trouble for the ’Sun.’

But...

This trouble is theirs—what does it have to do with the Police Intelligence Department?

Ledley leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully rubbing his brow.

Mordo Yang sat across, tapping his fingers on the desk, his expression tense, still biting the half-burnt cigar.

”It’s well-written.” Ledley suddenly spoke, his voice surprisingly calm: ”The writing, it’s at ’The Times’ level, perhaps even sharper than ’The Times.’”

Yang, who had been building up to unleash pressure, felt like he punched cotton at Ledley’s words, the corner of his tensed mouth twitching slightly: ”If you like, we could publish like this in every issue.”

”No need.” Ledley picked up his glass of Potter, speaking unhurriedly: ”Although I like it, if such articles were published for several issues, the Treasury folks might send specialists to audit your accounts.”

Yang’s gray-blue eyes narrowed, smoke dispersing before his face: ”Officer Jin, I’ve encountered lots of threats in my lifetime. But it’s indeed my first time hearing someone dare to use the Treasury to scare a journalist.”

”I mean no threat,” Ledley replied softly: ”I’m just reminding you. You know, this year Parliament lowered the newspaper stamp duty significantly, and the Treasury, losing quite a bit of income, is in pain. So to compensate, they’ve been closely scrutinizing tax issues at major newspapers, especially those who like to mention White Hall in their editorials.”

Yang was momentarily at a loss for words.

Of course, he knew this piece ’Government Office’ had stirred up a hornet’s nest. In fact, satirical and mocking pieces about lazy bureaucracy are published on Fleet Street frequently, and occasionally White Hall would cause trouble, but most of the time it would be glossed over—after all, we’re far from the days of George III’s literary persecution in the eighteenth century.

However, he hadn’t expected the Treasury, due to falling newspaper stamp duty revenues, was desperate enough to start setting examples.

Seeing through his hesitation, Ledley smiled and said, ”Rest assured, Mr. Yang, I’m not here today on behalf of the Treasury to investigate you. Anyone investigating you wouldn’t be sitting opposite drinking leisurely and certainly wouldn’t be inviting you.”