Former Public Security Deputy Chief of Xinjiang Zhu Changjie falls, Wang Xiongpeng and Peng Liyuan in danger! Xi Jinping's faction purged in the military, losing on two fronts ahead of the Fifth Plenary Session [Jiangfeng Outlook 20260623 No. 417]
Zhu Changjie, former Deputy Director of the Public Security Department of Xinjiang, has fallen, exposing the power-for-money alliance and transnational money laundering schemes involving the China Police Association, Wang Xiaohong, and the Shandong and Fujian factions of Peng Liyuan. Meanwhile, the PLA Daily has released a strong signal on its front page: Zhang Youxia's loyalist troops have made an appearance, while Xi-faction generals such as He Weidong and professional competition winners have been named and purged, marking a double loss for the Xi faction in both the police and military sectors.
Video link:
Full text:
Can you imagine? An old Xinjiang police officer who had been retired for eight years was suddenly taken away by the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection just after the Dragon Boat Festival. But the ones truly terrified were not in the Xinjiang political circles, but at the Ministry of Public Security in Beijing, thousands of miles away. Hello friends, I am Jiang Feng. It is fair to say that Wang Xiaohong has not had a peaceful few months. Three months ago, just after he returned from Vietnam and landed at the airport, he was taken in for questioning by the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection. Although he returned, that blade has been hanging over his neck ever since, following him everywhere. Just last week, he was still putting on a brave face, visiting Hebei for research in his capacity as a Secretary of the Secretariat of the CCP Central Committee and a State Councilor. But he never expected that the moment he returned to Beijing, the cold blade of the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection would strike from the side, precisely hitting his main artery: Zhu Changjie, former Vice Chairman and Director of the Public Security Department of the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, has fallen.
Many people are puzzled when they hear this name. Isn't Zhu Changjie just an old retired Xinjiang police officer? What could he possibly have to do with Wang Xiaohong, the Chief of Staff of Zhongnanhai and Xi Jinping's enforcer? The connection is massive. Zhu Changjie held an extremely prominent title: Vice President of the China Police Association. And who is the president of this association? None other than Wang Xiaohong himself. If you want to be a local public security bureau chief and show your loyalty to Minister Wang, it's simple: you just need to pay a staggering amount of sponsorship fees to the China Police Association, or help the association's projects secure millions in corporate donations. When Vice President Zhu Changjie comes to your area for research, you arrange an over-the-top reception and introduce the local coal bosses and real estate tycoons to Vice President Zhu one by one. Just think, in those secret private rooms with over-the-top receptions, might there be a silent, recording voice recorder hidden in Zhu Changjie's briefcase? Once Vice President Zhu is wined and dined, the recorder in his bag has also captured your pledge of allegiance. Once he goes back and whispers in President Wang's ear, your 'letter of intent' has been submitted, and before long, you will be promoted with a glowing face.
Even more terrifying than the buying and selling of official posts is another identity of this association: a money-laundering machine for transnational black gold. Those telecommunication scams entrenched in Southeast Asia and the drug trafficking in the Golden Triangle—without top-level protection from the Ministry of Public Security (MPS) back home, would they dare to brazenly transfer and launder money using domestic banking and telecommunication systems? How was this dirty money, soaked in the blood and sweat of ordinary people, eventually laundered? A large part of it went through the police association under various pretexts, turning into research funds, equipment procurement, and inspection subsidies, and ultimately landing securely in the private pockets of the Fujian faction and Peng Liyuan’s Shandong faction. This is a privileged, spoils-sharing syndicate wearing police uniforms. Now, Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CCDI) Deputy Secretary Liu Jinguo has suddenly made a move, taking advantage of the Dragon Boat Festival holiday to detain Zhu Changjie—the shadow second-in-command—on the spot, and directly raiding the ledgers of the police association. The black money Wang Xiaohong has collected from various people across the country over the years, the promotions he handed out, who ran errands behind his back, and even whether those overseas telecom scam parks had financial dealings with the First Lady’s family—all of this is now piled on Liu Jinguo’s desk.
At this very moment, all those police chiefs across the country who usually strut around arrogantly are probably wiping cold sweat while frantically burning photos and destroying ledgers. They have figured out one thing: Wang Xiaohong couldn't even protect his own second-in-command. Anyone who dares to claim to be Minister Wang's person from now on will be the next dead ghost waiting in line at the prison. So the question arises: Wang Xiaohong is a native of Fuzhou, Fujian, and the top household servant of Xi Jinping during his days in Minjiang; Zhu Changjie is a native of Heze, Shandong, and an old frontier police tiger who deeply cultivated Xinjiang for 40 years. How on earth did these two seemingly unrelated people hook up, and how did their relationship become so ironclad that if one falls, both fall, and if one prospers, both prosper? This brings us to the most secretive factional dynamic within the CCP's political and legal apparatus. Both Wang Xiaohong and Zhu Changjie were born in 1957. In the mid-2010s, Wang Xiaohong was transferred by Xi Jinping all the way from Fujian to Henan, and subsequently entered Beijing to take control of the Beijing Public Security Bureau. Meanwhile, Zhu Changjie was securely holding his position as the head of the Xinjiang Public Security Department, thanks to his meritorious service in iron-fisted stability maintenance (weiwen) following the July 5 Urumqi riots in 2009.
At the annual national conferences of provincial public security department and bureau chiefs held in Beijing, these two provincial public security chiefs in their prime naturally sat in the same venue and at the same banquet table. However, what truly made them click and form a life-and-death alliance was the political collusion between two forces: Xi Jinping’s Fujian faction and Peng Liyuan’s Shandong faction. If Xi Jinping wants to establish personal dictatorship and lifelong rule, he must tightly grip the knife handle (the security apparatus). The people he trusts and relies on most at court are his chief steward Cai Qi and knife-handle enforcer Wang Xiaohong. Yet the Fujian faction has a fatal flaw: its foundation is too shallow. In the public security systems of the north, central, and western regions, it has almost no base. Coincidentally, Peng Liyuan’s Shandong faction—especially the external relative and hometown clique centered around Dongming, Heze—had long quietly nested and taken root in the northern political, legal, and propaganda systems. As for Zhu Changjie, he was precisely the Shandong Heze fellow townsman valued most by Peng Liyuan within the political and legal apparatus. If Wang Xiaohong wanted to build cliques and eliminate dissidents across the national public security system, he had to seek the full support of the Shandong faction. If Zhu Changjie wanted to advance further and protect his family's interests after retirement, he also had to lean on Wang Xiaohong, the rising star by Xi Jinping’s side.
Thus, with the political tacit approval of the First Lady, Wang Xiaohong’s Fujian faction and Zhu Changjie’s Shandong faction hit it off at the banquet tables of national public security bureau chiefs. The division of labor between these two was audacious to the point of being unrestrained. Wang Xiaohong kept house for Xi Jinping in Zhongnanhai, wielding the political big stick of purging Sun Lijun’s political gang, purging the national public security system with a mindset of "those who submit prosper, those who resist perish," and striking down anyone who disobeyed. Meanwhile, Zhu Changjie was responsible for providing black accounts and channels, because Zhu Changjie was the person in all of China who best understood how to launder the black money of stability maintenance (weiwen). From 2009 to 2017, Zhu Changjie served as the head of the Xinjiang Public Security Department for just under seven years. This was precisely the most frantic period when Xinjiang laid down its Skynet monitoring system for counter-terrorism and stability maintenance (weiwen). Hundreds of billions or even trillions in fiscal budgets and aid-Xinjiang funds poured into the Xinjiang political and legal apparatus without audit, under the banner of national security and counter-terrorism secrets. How these funds were spent and how they were used to deal with interest groups everywhere was crystal clear to Zhu Changjie. If Wang Xiaohong wanted to set up an underground slush fund outside the Ministry of Public Security that was exempt from the supervision of the CCDI and the State Council, Zhu Changjie was the most perfect operator.
How close were these two? Whenever Wang Xiaohong found it inconvenient to step forward or state his position on shady matters, Zhu Changjie was always pushed to the front. If you want to know what Zhu Changjie was up to when he called local police (Public Security) to organize association research, contact business resources, or request project sponsorships, equipment research, and training cooperation, just look at the China-ASEAN Police Academy Forum. On the surface, it talked about combating transnational crimes, regional security governance, telecommunication fraud, virtual currencies, and drug crimes—all sounding like proper business. Wang Xiaohong could give a video address at such occasions and show his face from afar, but the person who actually made the meeting happen and linked local police (Public Security) with external resources was someone like Zhu Changjie, the vice president of the association. He knew which enterprises had established connections through police affairs projects, and which meetings ostensibly discussed fighting transnational crimes while actually connecting Southeast Asian telecom fraud funds with police (Public Security) protective umbrellas. Under Wang Xiaohong's patronage, Zhu Changjie not only amassed a fortune within the police association, but his old subordinates, his chief secretary Gao Zhimin, and even three consecutive party secretaries of the Aksu prefecture where he once governed, all became grasshoppers on this same power-money alliance net. They thought this net was sheltered by the First Lady and guarded by the Public Security tsar, making it foolproof. Unfortunately, this time, Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CCDI) Deputy Secretary Liu Jingguo directly struck the dog and broke its arm; the moment Zhu Changjie opened his mouth, the power-money network of the Heze faction and Fujian faction woven by Wang Xiaohong and Peng Liyuan in the political and legal systems over more than a decade would completely turn to ashes.
If the CCDI cutting off that underground money-laundering chain of the China Police Association was like plundering the private money bags of Wang Xiaohong and the First Lady, then a dynastic shift within the military has quietly begun in a covert yet shocking manner on the pages of the PLA Daily. Many viewers and friends usually dislike reading party newspapers, feeling that they are full of boring stereotyped party jargon. In fact, the most fatal essence of Chinese Communist Party (CCP) politics is precisely hidden in these dark codes that outsiders cannot understand. Let us look at the front page of a recent PLA Daily: on Saturday, June 20, right below the four red characters of the PLA Daily masthead, who was given the most prominent and largest photo? The photo caption states clearly: a certain brigade of the 77th Group Army carried out live-fire shooting training. Prior to the 2017 military reform, this 77th Group Army was the 13th Group Army stationed in the great southwest and subordinate to the Chengdu Military Region. Whose troops are these? This is Zhang Youxia's absolute core base. He joined the army at age 18 and started here, leading this force through two tours at the Laoshan front lines, engaging in bloody combat, rising all the way from a company commander, surrounded entirely by his life-or-death brothers.
At a time when Old Xi's military cronies have been purged beyond recognition and the military commission's mass purge is drawing to a close, the military newspaper ignored the Eastern Theater Command at the Taiwan front line and instead placed the photos of Zhang Youxia's troops engaging in live-fire combat right below the most prominent masthead. This is Zhang Youxia's men, holding the iron fist of the ground forces, anchoring and setting the tone for the entire military. The subtext is very simple: whoever dares to disobey, this will be their end. The main text of this article openly named the 72nd Group Army, stationed in Huzhou, Zhejiang, which was precisely the springboard for Heewedong's direct promotion to the center after serving as the chief of staff of the 31st Group Army. He Weidong had served as army commander here and planted countless connections of his own. But how does the opening of this article begin? It says that on the training honor roll of a certain brigade of the 72nd Group Army, an ordinary corporal named Li Jiawei reached the top. The report also added a special jab: the competition experts who frequently appeared in the past failed to appear on the list. The publicly named 72nd Group Army is a textbook purge order for Xi-faction generals. Just think, who were those past competition experts? They had to be companies endorsed by He Weidong's connections. This signal is too clear: the faction of people tied to He Weidong who designated who the competition experts were are now completely out of the game.
By Monday, the military newspaper released another heavyweight commentary, breaking through training empty shows and aiming hard at winning wars, piercing right through the supreme command group's proudest new-quality productive forces bubble. The article harshly criticized that any new subjects requiring breakthroughs that are slow to take effect and difficult to quantify achievements for are simply not included in the plan, and even coined a new term called the
Of course, for us ordinary people, there is no need to get involved in the muddy waters of Zhongnanhai. Facing the pressures of life and a volatile environment, taking care of your own health and preserving your energy is the most important thing you should do. Wang Xiaohong, Cai Qi, and Peng Liyuan—these three once-prominent new power brokers who could walk sideways in Zhongnanhai—have now reached the final three minutes of their political lives. When Wang Xiaohong turned the China Police Association into his private ATM, a transit station for transnational money laundering, and a high-level club for local warlords to buy and sell official positions, he never imagined that this "Book of Life and Death" he used to control all the police officials across the country would today become the death warrant for the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection to follow the trail. The moment Zhu Changjie, his shadow second-in-command, was taken away, it was exposed to the light who Wang Xiaohong had collected protection money from and promoted within the national public security system, and who was laundering money for him behind the scenes. Without this dark money to support it, Wang Xiaohong's so-called police brotherhood will fall apart in the blink of an eye, and those provincial and municipal public security bureau chiefs who were usually submissive to him are now all busy drawing a line between themselves and him.
He Weidong and Miao Hua painstakingly managed the 31st Group Army club, thinking that by blowing the political soap bubble of "armed unification of Taiwan" for Xi Jinping, they could last for generations in the military. Unfortunately, in the face of the absolute strength of the old military leaders, this group of cronies and "martial arts professionals" who only knew how to go through the motions in military competitions and rise through flattery were stripped bare in the two consecutive days of naming and shaming by the PLA Daily. Using the tactics within the system to stage a coup—first arresting those around you, checking your peripheral accounts, and replacing the cadres in your system—leaves you sitting in that chair, but no one underneath dares to listen to you anymore. The emperor of a vast autocratic empire is thus completely sidelined and finally stuffed into the trash can of history. Alright, let's stop here for the bottom cards of today's game.
If you find today's analysis enlightening,
and it has helped you see the direction of the situation clearly,
don't forget to like and subscribe,
and turn on that little bell,
so you won't miss any of our
upcoming episodes.
You are also welcome to leave your thoughts in the comments section,
and we can discuss them together.
Thank you all for watching, I am Jiang Feng.
See you in the next episode.