RT Chapter 165

Chapter 165: Presidential Son-in-Law?

Chapter 165: Presidential Son-in-Law?

Of course, the first to raise the banner of support was Fuzhong Media.

Fuzhong Media published a press release: “Youth is not a crime; change needs new blood.”

The article pointed out that Shao Chengxi’s candidacy broke the unspoken rules of seniority in Imperial politics.

The article reviewed his political achievements during his tenure as Minister of Defense:

Cleared out reactionary forces and restored peace to the Empire.

Promoted military reform and saved 12 billion in military spending.

Addressed historical legacy issues and sought welfare for patients with pheromone deficiency.

Facilitated the passage of legislation on Omega rights…

Concluding that these solid achievements are more convincing than some people’s empty talk of “experience.”

Next, the Omega Rights Organization issued an official statement:

“We will always remember who argued for the ‘Workplace Protection Act for Pregnant Omegas’ at the Presidential Conference.”

“A leader willing to speak up for vulnerable groups deserves serious consideration from all citizens.”

Of course, the mouthpieces of the Hong Zhenyue and Wu Xun camps were not idle either.

The headline of the *Imperial Daily* took a completely opposite tone.

“A Joke! How can a candidate under thirty shoulder the nuclear button?”

“The President is not only a symbol but also the last line of defense for the Empire’s security.”

“To entrust supreme power to a young man with no provincial-level administrative experience is tantamount to handing over a warship to a trainee.”

“The Shao family’s actions are treating the fate of the nation as a gilded game!”

Financial media *Capital Insight* analyzed:

“The Shao Consortium’s stock price surged by 8% in a single day, while the military industry sector fell in response.”

“The market is voting with real money—capitalists are clearly happy to see one of their own enter the Presidential Palace.”

*Public Opinion Weekly* poll data:

Support rate among 18-35-year-olds: 67%.

Support rate among those over 55: 29%.

Key swing group (35-55 years old): 48% support, 42% undecided.

Editor’s note: The “age divide” is significant, but it is worth noting that Shao Chengxi’s support rate among the higher education group exceeded 73%.

International media also paid close attention to Shao Chengxi’s candidacy.

The *Federal Times* headline pointed out:

“The Empire may usher in its first ‘thirty-year-old President’? Neighboring countries’ experts warn: A political novice may cause turbulence in foreign policy.”

The only consensus reached in this media frenzy was that, regardless of the final outcome, Shao Chengxi’s candidacy had already changed the rules of the Imperial political game.

As a political scholar predicted in the *Imperial Forum News*:

“When young people discover that they can truly break the ceiling, the old order will face the most severe challenge.”

For Shao Chengxi, the content of the opinions was not important.

What mattered was that, in just one day, the entire Empire knew he was campaigning for votes.

So, that evening, the official website opened the voting channel for Shao Chengxi’s presidential candidacy.

The next day, Shao Chengxi began his campaign speeches.

The first stop: Imperial University.

Shao Chengxi stood on the podium, with the Imperial University emblem behind him.

Facing the young students below, he changed his usual aloofness and seriousness, and casually joked:

“As you all know, my wife, Shu Lin, is a senior in the performance department of Imperial University…”

At this moment, a deliberately drawn-out “Oh…” sound rang out from the audience.

Shao Chengxi chuckled and deliberately drawled his tone:

“So, strictly speaking… if I become a presidential candidate, you may not only have the youngest president.”

Speaking to this, he paused for two or three seconds deliberately.

“You can also get a presidential son-in-law for free!”

“Please cast your precious vote for me.”

Instantly, the whole place burst into laughter, and applause thundered.

The subsequent interaction was particularly enthusiastic.

The catchy phrases from this speech quickly spread in the media.

“Vote for me, and Imperial University will get a presidential son-in-law for free!”

“I’m not here to be your leader; I’m here to be your family member.”

Some commentators pointed out that these two slogans perfectly combined:

Accessibility – using “son-in-law” to dissolve the distance of power.

Humor – The colloquialism “for free” subverted traditional political discourse.

Connection of Interests – Smartly tying in the interests of the alma mater to expand influence.

Family Card – Naturally pointing out the relationship between Shu Lin, Shao Chengxi, and Imperial University.

In the subsequent online ferment, under the #PresidentialSonInLaw# topic, all the images were student-edited parodies.

Shao Chengxi’s face was photoshopped onto the Honor Roll of Famous University Sons-in-Law.

The student union recruitment poster was changed to “Join us, and in the future, you can help junior girls chase after the President.”

The most popular short video: Shu Lin’s youthful photo when he reported to Imperial University, with the caption “The strongest enrollment brochure of our school.”

Through this method, Shao Chengxi’s approachable image was deeply rooted in people’s hearts.

Precisely because of the contrast with young people, Shao Chengxi’s age disadvantage was diluted.

At the same time, students were proficient in using online voting methods, laying a good foundation for future campaign speeches and voting.

Seeing the amazing voting effect after this speech, many conservatives couldn’t sit still and came forward to criticize Shao Chengxi.

They reminded the public to be vigilant against the erosion of the Empire’s foundations by “Internet celebrity politics.”

One expert directly criticized him on a talk show.

“When the campaign becomes about who is better at trending on social media, whose partner is more eye-catching, is this progress or a decline in democracy?”

“Shao Chengxi’s team clearly knows the way of traffic, but governing a country is not shooting a reality show!”

This remark of his stirred up a hornet’s nest.

The angered college students expressed their dissatisfaction through various platforms.

“Saying we are obsessed with ‘Internet celebrity politics’?”

“Then please tell me—what has ‘traditional politics’ given us? Is it a 35% youth unemployment rate? Or teaching buildings that haven’t been renovated in ten years?”

“Laughing to death, do some people have some misunderstanding about ‘professionalism’?”

“Shao Chengxi: Graduated first in his class from the Imperial Military Academy, commander-in-chief of the border evacuation operation, drafter of the ‘Defense Budget Transparency Act,’ this is called ‘incompetent’?”

“Does one have to be able to play golf, drink red wine, and speak officialese to be considered a ‘qualified politician’?”

“‘Traffic original sin theory’ is the real anti-intellectualism!”

“From Roosevelt’s ‘fireside chats’ to Obama’s governing via Twitter, the evolution of communication methods is part of political civilization.”

“What some people fear is not ‘Internet celebrity-ization,’ but the fact that power will finally be subject to national supervision.”

“This is called ‘decline’? No, this is called ‘being seen’!”

These rebuttals spread through campus radio stations and student self-media matrixes, forming a phenomenon-level communication.

Eventually, even mainstream media had to open a column to discuss: “Generation Z is Redefining ‘Political Professionalism’.”

With this good start, Shao Chengxi’s subsequent voting speeches went smoothly.

Public voting was growing rapidly day by day, which worried Hong Zhenyue and Wu Xun a lot.

Entering February, they finally each dug up some dirt on Shao Chengxi.

After investigation and confirmation, Wu Xun deduced that the marriage between Shu Lin and Shao Chengxi that year was a transactional marriage.

Hong Zhenyue found Shu Lin’s Alpha father, whom he had never met.