In May, Guangdong party secretary Li Changchun stepped up to a microphone to introduce the members of the Ninth Guangdong Party Standing Committee. With the committee members lined up stiffly behind him and a rich crimson backdrop of Chinese and Communist Party flags, it was an impressive scene.
Then Mr Li's deep, commanding voice filled the hall. For those usually hard-pressed to understand the stilted Putonghua of Guangdong's Cantonese officials, listening to the party secretary's crystal-clear northern accent was like having wool pulled from their ears.
At the end of the introductions, Mr Li closed with a few words of Cantonese. Oddly, for his parting shot he attempted to translate a Putonghua salutation da jia hao (hello everybody), seldom used by Cantonese speakers. But instead of the correct Cantonese rendition daaih ga hou, what Mr Li produced sounded more like of a man choking on his dinner.
Since Mr Li was appointed Guangdong party secretary in 1998, everything about the Dalian-native from his regal bearing to his crisp Putonghua and tortured Cantonese has reminded Guangdong people that he is not one of them.
Indeed, many will be glad to see the back of him as he takes his place on the Politburo standing committee. Otherwise, they would have had to wait until next March, when it is expected he will be named a vice-premier.
Mr Li's lack of ties to Guangdong, personal or professional, is precisely the reason he was appointed to the job. He spent the early years of his career in Shenyang. In 1982, at the age of 39, he became the youngest mayor and party secretary of a major city.