Chapter 2160: Leaving South Korea

Since he was preparing to return to China, Zhao Fusheng naturally had to take care of things first.

First, he met separately with Dong Chenxi and Liang Jingyu to check on the company's situation, giving them a few instructions. Then he called Lee Boo-jin to inform her that he had matters to attend to and would be leaving.

After doing all this, Zhao Fusheng had the private plane prepared and departed with his entourage.

"Hey, why make such a big scene?"

Sitting in the motorcade, Zhao Fusheng said to Liang Jingyu and Wu Sijie, "Anyone would think the president is going abroad."

"Heh, look at what you're saying."

"Yeah."

Wu Sijie also laughed: "Chairman, if you really went abroad, your status would be far higher than that of the South Korean president."

This was the truth.

The longer they stayed in South Korea, the more Wu Sijie and Liang Jingyu felt that the South Korean president really didn't amount to much.

Take Roh Moo-hyun, for example—no sooner had he left the Blue House than he was being settled by his political enemies, and now he was mired in scandal, seemingly on the verge of arrest.

"The president, huh."

Zhao Fusheng smiled at Wu Sijie's words and said, "I heard Roh Moo-hyun is under investigation?"

"Not him."

Wu Sijie shook his head and explained, "It's his son and wife."

Then, with a sigh, Wu Sijie remarked, "Chairman, would you say that being the president of South Korea is a high-risk job?"

"Huh?"

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback for a moment, then laughed.

Come to think of it, Wu Sijie's words might sound like a joke, but they actually held some truth.

Zhao Fusheng remembered that in his previous life, there were memes online: "If you don't work hard, you'll be sent to South Korea to be president." "If you don't study hard, when you grow up you'll be sent to South Korea to be president."

This wasn't a joke.

Since World War II, the position of South Korean president had been a high-risk job.

Kim Gu, the father of the nation, was assassinated at the height of his power after the victory in World War II, and the fruits of victory were stolen.

The first president, Syngman Rhee, after the Korean War, was cast aside once the dogs were no longer needed, ultimately forced to step down and die in exile.

Puppet president Yun Po-sun was forced to resign mid-term, and when he tried to seize power, he was sentenced.

Strongman president Park Chung-hee ruled as a dictator for eighteen years, only to have him and his wife assassinated.

Transitional president Choi Kyu-hah served just over eight months before a coup forced him into a黯然 exit.

Iron-fisted figure Chun Doo-hwan seized power by force and amassed wealth crazily, eventually sentenced to life imprisonment.

Civilian-elected president Roh Tae-woo won applause with his inaugural declaration but ended up in prison for corruption.

Controversial president Kim Young-sam saw his reputation ruined by his son's corruption.

Democracy fighter Kim Dae-jung led South Korea through the financial crisis but could not escape the politics of money.

Now, Roh Moo-hyun, who had always prided himself on being clean and had launched an anti-corruption campaign, ultimately committed suicide.

In Zhao Fusheng's view, if one fish dies, it might be the fish's problem. But if a whole batch of fish dies, it's likely a problem with the water.

The repeated scandals in South Korea's highest political echelons probably cannot be simply attributed to these presidents as individuals; behind them, they reveal deep-seated institutional flaws.

In the deeply entrenched electoral game, those standing on the stage are politicians shouting campaign slogans, while behind them are various interest groups.

Power and capital are highly collusive, politicians and chaebols deeply intertwined. South Korea's so-called democratic politics is essentially plutocracy.

Coupled with South Korea's inherent ills of family cronyism and retainer politics, the ostensibly glamorous, "people-elected" political leaders are often just "marionettes" manipulated by various forces.

South Korean politics is, to a large extent, a microcosm of Western political systems.

In actual operation, the institutional defects of Western democracy—such as money politics and partisan strife—and the pathologies of South Korea's political tradition—such as family ties and personal connections—ferment together, miring South Korean politics in various scandals, reducing so-called modern democracy to an empty shell. The political culture and habits nurtured in such an institutional space often have a strong tendency toward inferiority and lack the necessary systematic capacity for self-correction.

In this "neither fish nor fowl" political ecology, a president's career is prone to dramatic ups and downs, easily becoming a scapegoat in the games of various forces, turning into a high-risk job.

In plain terms, it's because the country is too weak and lacks autonomy.

Of course, this touches on political matters. Zhao Fusheng, Liang Jingyu, and Wu Sijie all knew that Hanxing Investment must not get involved.

After all, they were foreigners.

"Remember, we won't offend anyone."

Zhao Fusheng looked at Wu Sijie and Liang Jingyu and said slowly, "No matter which party in South Korea, we can befriend them, we can invest in them, but under no circumstances will we participate in things like elections."

In other words, being a financial backer was fine, but having Hanxing Investment fight in the trenches was impossible—Zhao Fusheng would never agree to that.

"Rest assured, Chairman."

Liang Jingyu and Wu Sijie quickly nodded in unison.

...

...

Soon, the group arrived at the airport.

"I'll go in now."

Zhao Fusheng said to Liang Jingyu and the others, "You all go back and do what you need to do. Don't worry about me."

To be honest, although he knew this was a way for subordinates to show loyalty, Zhao Fusheng still wasn't used to such a grand display.

After all, today Hanxing Investment had put on its most imposing posture to see him off from South Korea.

A huge motorcade, numerous bodyguards, and representatives from all the branch offices were present.

In Liang Jingyu's words, this was the true confidence of Hanxing Investment.

"Yes, Chairman."

Liang Jingyu quickly nodded.

Under everyone's gaze, Zhao Fusheng slowly walked into the departure hall, flanked by Liu Yiming and a group of bodyguards.

After passing through security, he would board the plane and fly directly from Seoul back to the Chinese capital.

"That's our chairman?"

"The chairman is so young."

"A private jet?"

"My god, he really is one of the world's top billionaires!"

Watching Zhao Fusheng's group leave, the directors following behind murmured among themselves.

Many of these people were only heads of companies invested in by Hanxing Investment. They had never even met Liang Jingyu, the representative director of Hanxing Investment, let alone Zhao Fusheng, the real boss.

The ones who received them were directors at Park Sun-young's level.

Now, seeing Zhao Fusheng leave South Korea in a private jet, these people gained a clear understanding of Hanxing Investment's strength.

After all, South Koreans are like that—their obsession and worship of wealth sometimes reaches a pathological level.

Perhaps even Zhao Fusheng himself didn't know that, unintentionally, his image had grown larger in South Korea.