The Military Plots for Xi Jinping's Exit! Wen Jiabao Battles Zeng Qinghong: On the Eve of Beidaihe, Zhongnanhai Kneels to Beg Trump [Jiang Feng Vision 20260707 Episode 429]

The video analyzes the events of July 6, 2026, when the CCP simultaneously test-fired a submarine-launched strategic missile, publicly confirmed sending an Independence Day congratulatory message to Trump, and held joint naval exercises with Russia, arguing that these actions were directed at the United States, Russia, and different factions within the CCP, respectively. The video also mentions the upcoming release and departure of Jin Ming to the U.S., as well as the death of private entrepreneur Yan Peng in Xi'an after falling from a building, and the subsequent stability maintenance (weiwen) measures against citizens who brought flowers to the site.

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In the past few days, Zhongnanhai has done two contradictory things: on one hand, it publicly test-fired a submarine-launched strategic missile, and on the other, it secretly sent a letter of surrender to the White House.

At 12:01 PM on July 6, a PLA strategic nuclear submarine launched a submarine-launched strategic missile into the depths of the Pacific Ocean. According to foreign media reports, the impact point was in the South Pacific. This time, Xinhua News Agency held the stopwatch itself, and just one hour after the launch, it took the initiative to tell the whole world. You must know that in the past, such matters were always disclosed by foreign media first, and Beijing would only acknowledge them after being pressed.

But an even stranger scene occurred a few hours later. At the Beijing Ministry of Foreign Affairs press conference, the question was asked by a reporter from the state-run CCTV: Has President Xi Jinping sent a congratulatory message to the U.S. President to celebrate the 250th anniversary of American independence? Spokesperson Mao Ning immediately confirmed that it had been sent. With one of their own asking and one of their own answering, Beijing set the stage itself to show this previously hidden congratulatory message to the whole world.

We have said long ago that the CCP's gun barrels no longer listen to the person at the very top. Given this state of affairs, who exactly was this missile on July 6 fired for? To put it bluntly, the CCP must kneel to do business with the U.S., but it is afraid that the U.S. will take the opportunity to flip the table, and even more afraid that the Chinese people will see that it has gone soft. This nuclear submarine launching a missile from underwater is just to hold the line for the Communist Party.

Within the current CCP, no single faction has completely won. First, let's talk about the CCP conservatives, represented by old figures from red families like Zeng Qinghong. What they want is to protect the Party, the military, and the red regime, ensuring their red privileges for generations to come. The capital they hold in their hands is the Army.

Next, let's talk about the reformist technocrats, the group that manages the economy and does business with the outside world. They know clearly that the machine of totalitarianism is running out of fuel. They want to reopen the doors, bring back foreign investment and dollar orders, and keep the machine running.

Standing in the middle to stabilize the situation is Hu Jintao. He does not want the conservatives to devour the reformists, nor does he want the reformists to liquidate the conservatives; rather, he wants to keep the ship steady first. At the same time, while the two factions are locked in a fierce battle in the front, Hu Jintao is quietly planting his own people in the military in the back.

Once you understand these three parties, you can understand the day of July 6. The congratulatory message sent to the White House was for the reformists to see: the doors can be reopened, China-U.S. relations can be renegotiated, and Xi Jinping's past confrontational diplomacy can be dialed back. The missile dropped into the Pacific was for the conservatives to see: the guns cannot be handed over, the Party cannot fall, and the red regime cannot be toppled while in chaos.

This tug-of-war is most explicitly manifested in the military. The CCP conquered the country relying on the "mud-legged" Army; the old marshal system and the field army tradition, the roots of the red families, are all planted in the old soil of the Army, which has always been the iron base of the conservatives.

And the navy is where Xi Jinping has placed the most of his people and tried the hardest to keep in his grip over the years. Because of this, the navy has now become the place most in need of inspection—screening the generals promoted by Xi Jinping over the years one by one to find out whose orders they actually take. Only after this check is completed can they feel secure about taking over the navy.

By contrast, the air force is different, having long been marginalized historically. Precisely because no one treated it as a treasure, it was easier back then for Hu Jintao to make his move within the air force, and the people he planted there have taken deep roots.

Have you noticed that several new faces emerging recently within the CMC organs have increasingly heavy air force backgrounds? For instance, Wang Gang, who was just promoted and received his rank on July 3, comes from the air force background. He is a nail driven into the military by Hu Jintao and the reform-and-opening-up technocrats.

As for Zhang Shuguang, who was promoted alongside Wang Gang, he is a man from Zhang Youxia's faction. Promoting Zhang Shuguang is like handing a slice of the pie to the conservative faction within the military, appeasing them that they are not going to be completely wiped out and that their people will still get to eat meat.

This is the most delicate part right now. Those military elders and party conservative veterans once hated Xi Jinping to the core. The final accounts of Jiang Zemin, the uncertain fates of Zhang Youxia and Liu Zhenli—every single account is stained with blood. They would love nothing more than for Xi Jinping to disappear from the news tomorrow.

Yet, calculating until the very end, they realized that if they were to completely overthrow Xi Jinping right now and truly let China thoroughly return to reform and opening up, their own days of privilege would also come to an end. Because once the gates are completely blown wide open, the ordinary people will come to settle accounts—not just with a single Xi Jinping, but with the rotten accounts of how the entire red family has sucked the marrow from the bones for decades.

The real point of contention therefore falls on how Xi Jinping steps down. Keeping him as a dictator any further won't do, but letting him completely scram right now won't work either; this brand is still useful for the time being. In September, he still has to make a trip to the United States to negotiate the unfreezing of ties for this gang and ask for the money back.

Precisely because no one has won yet, the two factions are currently fighting over the same things: positions in the military and officials in the localities. In the current landscape, the air force is basically in the hands of the reform-and-opening-up faction, while the army is tightly gripped by the conservative faction, with both sides accelerating the placement of their own people into critical positions.

Yet the Party cannot fall, and the guns cannot be handed over. Whoever dares to harbor different intentions at this moment, this submarine-launched missile could smash onto anyone's head at any time.

Let's look at how aggrieved and schizophrenic the official propaganda outlet's performance was on July 6. Opening the front page of Xinhua News Agency that day, two state congratulatory telegrams were dutifully posted: one to Montenegro congratulating them on the 20th anniversary of diplomatic relations, and another to Peru's Keiko Fujimori, congratulating her on winning the presidency.

Yet the most powerful empire on Earth, celebrating the super grand anniversary of its 250th founding year, didn't have a single word on the CCP's state media. That's strange; back in May when Trump visited China, Xi Jinping had proactively raised his glass at the state banquet to mention this date. Yet when July 4, the actual day, arrived, Xinhua News Agency simply played blind and published not a single word.

Right then, public opinion outside the Great Firewall exploded on the spot: Zhongnanhai didn't even send a congratulatory telegram to Trump; was US-China relations about to completely collapse? As this wind blew, Beijing's cold sweat instantly streamed down its back.

They know better than anyone that China's economy right now is like a critically ill patient already admitted to the ICU, desperately waiting for US dollars to keep them alive. If Washington were genuinely led to believe that Beijing couldn't even be bothered to keep up appearances, then the subsequent tariff strangulation and chip supply cutoffs would leave not a tiny shred of room for maneuver.

Thus came the drama at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs press conference on the afternoon of July 6. As we mentioned just now, the person who stood up to ask about the congratulatory telegram was not a foreign media outlet, but a reporter from the headquarters' own CCTV. This question was pre-arranged. Beijing couldn't wait for someone else to ask, so it simply had its own person toss out the talking point, and Mao Ning picked it up cleanly: it was sent, it had already been sent.

Subsequently, the official website of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs posted this exact Q&A online word for word, terrified that Washington might miss it. The South China Morning Post later added a finishing blow: Beijing has historically never made public its greetings to the US president for July 4. Translated into human language, it means it wasn't that they didn't send them in the past, but rather that they quietly sent them every year, only never daring to let the domestic ordinary people know.

This newspaper certainly isn't just cutting in to watch the spectacle casually. The South China Morning Post is owned by Alibaba; Beijing can keep it under control, but it is also an English-language newspaper read daily by Washington think tanks and the folks handling China at the State Department. Whenever Beijing has something inconvenient to say in its own voice over the years, it mostly uses this channel.

So this phrase "historically never made public" is delivering a message on Beijing's behalf, and the recipient is none other than Washington. Unpacked, the message means this: Take a clear look, not only did I send you a congratulatory telegram this year, I've sent one every single year, I just didn't dare admit it. Today I've laid even this bottom line bare for you to see; is my sincerity toward you enough? Chew on this posture.

Dragging decades of stealthy back-alley accounts out all at once to use as a token of first meeting, they are kowtowing hard enough to earn seniority. Acknowledging this equals making Beijing's letter of surrender public to the world, and for the first time, domestic ordinary people got to see the whole thing.

But a mere congratulatory message cannot buy back the forgiveness of the Americans. To pave the way for a visit to the United States on September 24, the new leadership team has been delivering heavy political gifts to Washington day after day.

In the exact same week that the missiles were launched into the sky, Beijing suddenly released prisoners. Jin Mingri, the founder of Zion Church and a benchmark for Beijing’s house churches, had been locked up for years despite all efforts to free him, but this time he was sent directly on a chartered flight and safely delivered to the United States. In the eyes of Washington conservatives and Capitol Hill, this is a political gift that can be cashed in on the spot.

Look at how they treat their old ally, Iran. Tehran held a funeral for Khamenei to replace its supreme leader, which is a rare, once-in-a-decades occasion for Iran. Who did Beijing send? He Wei, chairman of the Central Committee of the Peasants' and Workers' Democratic Party. His title sounds significant, but he isn't even a Communist Party member; he is merely a democratic party vase maintained by the United Front specifically to show his face at such events.

Sending a vase to perfunctorily handle their iron-clad brother Iran while overnight sending hostages to their arch-enemy the American imperialists and having their own reporters set the stage for congratulatory messages. All this groveling and self-mutilation is entirely to ensure that Xi Jinping can smoothly step through the doors of Washington on September 24.

Do not misunderstand, however: the Xi Jinping going to America at this moment is not going there to showcase the demeanor of a great power leader. We discussed the military affairs just earlier; the air force is in the hands of the reform-and-opening faction, and the army is in the hands of the conservative faction, with neither side listening to him. Back home, Cai Qi has lost power, and Xi's trip to the U.S. is merely running errands for the new elder faction's team in the rear, delivering an exit agreement and begging for life-saving foreign currency.

So you see, this public act of claiming a congratulatory message was staged proactively by Beijing, but what forced it to stage this show was its inner fear. The letters are sent out every year, but the fear only leaked out this year.

Look at these people in Zhongnanhai: kneeling down one second and firing cannons the next. As we watch the show from across the Pacific, the most important thing is to take care of our own bodies and those of our families so we can watch this show until the curtain falls.

Many people might be puzzled: Jiang Feng, you just said the new Zhongnanhai leadership team is kneeling and surrendering to the United States, so why on the same day at noon did they launch a nuclear missile into the Pacific? Isn't this self-contradictory?

Not contradictory at all. You will understand it entirely if you know just a little bit about street-punk psychology. A down-and-out wretch with no money in his pocket and a family in the middle of a property division, heading out to negotiate with creditors, is most afraid that the creditors will see through his bluff and directly raid his house.

Therefore, while tightly clutching the surrender letter prepared for delivery in his coat pocket, he must openly flash the pistol at his waist on the street before stepping through the door. This is the essence of saber-rattling; the greater the fear, the more posturing is required.

The CCP using missiles to intimidate the U.S. is nothing new. In August 2022, when Nancy Pelosi visited Taiwan, the Eastern Theater Command fired a dozen Dongfeng missiles around Taiwan consecutively, some flying right over the island and several landing directly in Japan's doorstep exclusive economic zone. What tone did the official media have back then? Combat reports came one after another, and Little Pinks flooded the internet with cheers for "Dongfeng Express."

In September 2024, the Rocket Force tossed an intercontinental missile into the high seas of the Pacific, the first full-range launch in 44 years, with experts lining up on TV to lecture on reliable nuclear counterattack capabilities.

Look at this time around: according to tracking by Taiwan, this JL missile emerged from the South China Sea, flew over the top of Luzon in the Philippines, and landed between Nauru and Tonga. New Zealand jumped up in protest that very day, stating that the missile had landed in the South Pacific Nuclear-Free Zone.

As for Beijing's own official readout? A grand total of three lines: a routine arrangement, relevant countries had been notified in advance, in compliance with international law and international practice, and not targeting any specific country or objective. That's it—no mention of which submarine, what kind of missile, or where it was launched from.

If you place these two pictures side by side, the missiles launched previously weren't even that big, yet the shouting was terrifying; the weapon brought out this time is the biggest they have, yet not a single harsh word was uttered, out of fear of pushing people over the edge.

Even more interesting is Japan's attitude. Tokyo immediately jumped up that same day, stating it strongly urged China to reconsider its missile test-launch plan. Listen to that tone: Tokyo even knew the word "plan," which shows that the phrase "notified in advance" in the official readout was not false, and the slip of paper was genuinely handed to Japan.

This picture is so comical. While setting off firecrackers underwater, Beijing acts like a seasoned negotiator, slipping a note to the other side right before pushing the button: My friend, I'm going to set off a big firecracker in the water in a moment; don't misunderstand, I'm not crazy, I know the rules, please don't retaliate. Intimidating you, yet handing you a way out.

This awkward sense of proportion is the best portrayal of a household tearing itself apart with infighting while terrified of starting a fire that consumes them.

And on that very morning, the China-Russia Maritime Joint-2026 military exercise also kicked off at Qingdao Port. The Russians sailed their dilapidated cruiser Varyag and nuclear submarines into Qingdao, and both sides claimed they would engage in live-fire combat on the sea surface.

Yet, just one day before the performance, on July 5, Xinhua News Agency published a sour, inconspicuous piece of news: Putin and Trump had a phone call.

Moscow has nearly bled dry in the quagmire of Ukraine, relying entirely on Beijing's economic pipeline to stay on life support. But Beijing is calculating more shrewdly than anyone: buying oil is fine, provided the price is squeezed to the limit; as for actual cash, military aid, or blood transfusions, not a single drop is forthcoming.

Not long ago, Belarus's Lukashenko came to Beijing to beg for money, only to leave empty-handed, having failed to secure a single cent. Putin knows all too well that Zhongnanhai is fundamentally unreliable. If the U.S. is willing to loosen its grip slightly and offer a way out, Russia would sell Beijing out for a good price at any moment and turn around to do business with Trump.

Beijing sees this and is anxious. Since it cannot afford to reward beggars economically, it must put on a grand show. This military exercise is a cheap group photo Beijing took while hugging Russia: "Look here, my congratulatory message was just diplomatic perfunctory, see how I am still firing missiles to accompany you in this drill? Please, do not flip the table with Trump first and leave me hanging in the wind."

The logic of this day of serial drama is now completely connected, isn't it? The morning's military exercise was a hug for Moscow to see—that is the entire subtext. The missiles at noon were fired for Washington to see: "Although I am in the middle of a power transition at home, I still have weapons in my hands, so don't try to loot a burning house." The congratulatory message in the afternoon was also for Washington: "The missiles have been fired, is your anger gone? Let's sit down and do business again."

Within this single day, the CCP has been coaxing both the U.S. and Russia, and it cannot afford to offend either. This is the most real and pathetic situation Zhongnanhai finds itself in right now. The more perfect the smile on the surface, the more intense the infighting over the family assets inside the house; the louder the missiles crash under the Pacific, the more unstable the military power in the rear.

If you shift your gaze from the Pacific back to the mainland of China, you will see a scene even more chilling. Just a few days before the missiles were launched, state media was still loudly proclaiming that "the private economy has a broad stage," desperate to lure foreign capital and private enterprises back.

Yet, on July 1, the Party's birthday, at Xi'an Saige, the largest shopping mall in Shaanxi, a private entrepreneur named Yan Peng jumped from a high floor of the mall and was smashed to pieces on the spot.

Yan Peng was a veteran and the chairman of Shaanxi Lihe Trading. His business was substantial; he held the franchises for sports brands like Adidas and Nike in Shaanxi, with over a hundred stores opened.

However, simply because his employees had improperly split a few coupons during a promotional event four years ago, the Saige mall issued him a sky-high fine of 11.45 million yuan and used this as an excuse to forcibly withhold his payments.

Listen to this logic: fines are a power belonging only to law enforcement agencies; by what right does a shopping mall issue fines to merchants? Yet in Xi'an, they dared to do it, and they actually succeeded. For four years, he had no way to appeal, lost his lawsuits, could not get his payments back, and his capital chain was completely broken.

In the despair of having nowhere to turn, he wrote a suicide note on his WeChat Moments, using his life to denounce the atrocities of Saige, and then jumped from the high building.

Before the body of a vibrant life was even cold, the security guards and cleaners of the Saige mall, before the police and ambulance arrived, took it upon themselves to wrap the body in a purple cloth and washed the bloodstains on the ground clean with water. An hour later, the mall acted as if nothing had happened, reopened for business, and continued counting money.

After Yan Peng died, the people of Xi'an spontaneously went to the mall entrance to lay flowers. The authorities dispatched a large number of police, acting as if facing a great enemy to maintain stability, forcibly confiscating the flowers, and even stopping and checking bouquets delivered by food delivery riders.

They are afraid that the public will see through the man-eating nature of this system from this pile of flowers. This is the "broad stage for the private economy" that Zhongnanhai talks about: once you grow big, you are just a fat pig waiting to be harvested by the red nobility and monopoly capital; if you resist, you don't even have the qualification to die on the side of the road, as the bloodstains are washed away in an hour.

Putting these two images together, Zhongnanhai's bottom line is fully exposed. They are in a hurry to send congratulatory messages and shout support for private enterprises because their purse is completely empty. Local government debt is exploding, military spending is soaring every year, and they need the Americans' dollars and the private sector's taxes to keep this bloated totalitarian machine on life support.

Therefore, they can kneel before the Americans and offer the most submissive smiles, but for those at home who hope to make money through business, the blood-stained whip in their hands will not loosen by an inch. Because they know better than anyone that once they loosen their grip, these 1.4 billion slaves who have been exploited for more than half a century will instantly smash their red gambling table to pieces.

Speaking of this, the three acts of July 6 all align. We asked before, who was that missile fired from under the water actually for? Now we can say it definitively: it was not fired for Xi Jinping—the military has long since stopped listening to him; it was fired for the Party.

To the outside world, the missiles say that the regime is untouchable, while the congratulatory messages say that business will continue as usual. To the inside, the pile of flowers snatched away at the entrance of SEG says: I may kneel before the United States, but you are not allowed to send flowers to your fellow countrymen.

The gun never protects any single individual; it protects the Party. The emperor can be replaced, and the line can be adjusted, but as long as the gun remains in the hands of this Party, the whip will not loosen. The day their own people turn their weapons on each other, that is when the real drama begins.