Chapter 211: Chapter 186: 2 Big Liars
Yesterday, after dodging Zhao Youcai’s "pursuit," Zhao Jun told Li Baoyu that they needed to leave no loose ends for their families.
If they were leaving no evidence, then they couldn’t bring the money home. Otherwise, what would their excuse be?
Hearing this, Zhao Jun just looked at Li Baoyu without saying a word.
His stare made Li Baoyu uneasy.
Li Baoyu blinked. Seeing that Zhao Jun was still silent, he couldn’t take it anymore. "Don’t look at me like that," he said. "I’ll listen to you, alright? Isn’t that enough?"
At that, Zhao Jun smiled. "Baoyu," he said, "on this matter, I’ll listen to you."
"Huh?" Li Baoyu was ecstatic. If Zhao Jun said that, it meant they could pocket the money.
Of the two Lynx Furs, the damaged one sold for two thousand six hundred yuan. With Xu Changlin getting one share, the three of them split the rest, each receiving over eight hundred and sixty yuan.
The other one sold for three thousand five hundred yuan, which the two of them would split, giving them one thousand seven hundred and fifty yuan each. This meant that his, Li Baoyu’s, personal savings would skyrocket from less than one hundred yuan to nearly three thousand yuan.
That was a fortune!
Seeing the light in Li Baoyu’s eyes grow brighter, Zhao Jun quickly said, "Baoyu, let me finish."
"Huh?" Li Baoyu froze.
Zhao Jun continued, "Do you remember how much my dad sold that other pelt for last time?"
"Damn!" Li Baoyu exclaimed, his face a mask of astonishment as he stared at Zhao Jun.
Zhao Jun added, "Even if an autumn pelt isn’t as good as a winter one, there’s no way it was worth only one thousand two hundred yuan."
As soon as Zhao Jun said this, Li Baoyu froze. He might act rashly most of the time, but he was sharp. The moment Zhao Jun spoke, he understood everything.
Li Baoyu’s first thought was, ’That tiger cub pelt from last time... my uncle pocketed some of the money! How could he do that? Should I tell my dad? If Dad finds out, what’s he going to think? How are our families supposed to face each other after this?’
At this thought, Li Baoyu gritted his teeth. He looked at Zhao Jun and said solemnly, "Brother, I’ll pretend I don’t know anything about this."
"What do you mean, you don’t know!" Zhao Jun was exasperated and had to explain. "Baoyu, even if we didn’t know, you think your dad didn’t?"
"Huh?" Li Baoyu faltered. This time, he truly understood what Zhao Jun meant.
"Damn!" Li Baoyu tilted his head back, recalling the day Zhao Youcai returned after selling the Lynx Fur. He had given the money to Wang Meilan first, who then split it in half and gave a portion to Jin Xiaomei.
And when Jin Xiaomei brought the money home and told Li Dayong how much their share was, Li Baoyu had been right there.
Li Baoyu remembered it clearly. Li Dayong had told Jin Xiaomei that the amount the fur sold for must be kept secret. He said it was like in the books: "Don’t flaunt your wealth."
Furthermore, the matter also had to be kept from Li Ruhai, who wasn’t home.
In hindsight, it seemed Li Dayong wasn’t afraid of flaunting wealth, but of his lies being exposed.
He figured Zhao Youcai and Wang Meilan must have said the same thing.
On top of that, Li Baoyu also remembered that he had wanted to ask his mom for ten yuan as an allowance, since he had contributed, after all.
But Li Baoyu remembered even more vividly that before Jin Xiaomei could even respond, Li Dayong had cut in from the side, "What do you need money for? You eat and drink at home all day. What do you need money for?"
Yet right after saying that, Li Dayong himself had turned around and asked Jin Xiaomei for one yuan to buy cigarettes.
The more Li Baoyu thought about it, the angrier he got. But that was his own father. In the end, all he could choke out was, "That old bastard!"
"What are you talking about!" Zhao Jun slapped Li Baoyu’s arm. "That’s your father!"
"My dad..." Li Baoyu’s breathing quickened with rage. Just as he was about to speak, a voice called out from behind the counter, "Stir-fried dry tofu is ready!"
The words had barely faded when the restaurant owner emerged from the back kitchen, holding a white porcelain plate.
The large, round plate was nearly a foot and a half wide, and the stir-fried dry tofu was piled high on it.
A portion that size must have used at least two pounds of dry tofu!
"Enjoy! I’ll go get your rice. The dumplings will be a little while longer." The owner set the plate on the table and turned to leave. He was the waiter and the cook, and with three dishes ordered, he had to hurry.
"Sir!" Zhao Jun called out to the owner as he reached for a pair of chopsticks from the nearby container.
"Yeah?"
Zhao Jun smiled. "We’d like to cancel the sweet and sour pork."
’Ever since I was reborn, I haven’t eaten out. I forgot how huge the portions are at Northeast restaurants, especially back in these days. They’re massive.’
"Alright!" the owner agreed readily. He went behind the counter, put on a pair of thick gloves, and took a metal lunchbox off the stovepipe. He opened it and began scooping the rice inside into bowls.
In those days, there were no electric rice cookers. Restaurants would steam a large batch of rice in the morning and portion it out into aluminum lunchboxes.
When a customer ordered rice, they’d just heat one of the lunchboxes on the stovepipe.
Watching the owner approach with their rice, Li Baoyu pointed toward the counter and asked, "That Ginseng-infused wine, how much for a cup?"
"Two fen," the owner said. "It’s fifty-two percent Kaoliang liquor."
Hearing this, Zhao Jun glanced back at the wine jug labeled "Ginseng Wine." ’Things are so cheap these days,’ he thought. ’Ginseng wine... and back then, the Ginseng used for infusing was always Wild Ginseng.’
The "cup" Li Baoyu had asked for was a small, two-liang teacup, so the price was indeed fantastic.
"I’ll have a cup!" Li Baoyu said.
Baoyu was feeling miserable, not for any other reason than the feeling of being utterly deceived.
Even though he hadn’t done much of the work, if it weren’t for him, Zhao Jun would never have given his family half a share of the Lynx Fur.
Yet his own father had skimmed off the top—and taken a huge cut!
Of course, none of that was important.
What was important was that he, Li Baoyu, hadn’t gotten a single cent out of it.
Zhao Jun sat across from Li Baoyu, listening to him mutter, "This is just too much! Unbelievable! I’m so furious..."
Zhao Jun: "..."
Zhao Jun couldn’t hope to match Li Baoyu’s dramatic vocabulary.
The owner poured the liquor, placed it in front of Li Baoyu, and then asked Zhao Jun, "Young man, you want anything to drink?"
"I’m not drinking."
"Alright, I’ll get that braised pork started then." With that, the owner headed back to the kitchen.
Li Baoyu picked up a piece of the stir-fried dry tofu. SLURP. It went into his mouth, and without even chewing, he immediately picked up his little cup and drank.
Zhao Jun found the sight amusing.
Li Baoyu took another bite of tofu, followed by a big gulp of liquor. When he set the cup down, he looked as if he had made a momentous decision. "Brother," he said to Zhao Jun with great seriousness, "let’s not keep the money, okay? Let’s turn it in!"
"Fine!" Zhao Jun agreed instantly, without a second thought. He could already imagine the absolute firestorm—the storm of fury and relentless scolding—that would erupt once Zhao Youcai’s scheme of pocketing and hiding money was exposed.
At this thought, Zhao Jun’s eyes narrowed and a smile spread across his face. But then he suddenly remembered the time Zhao Youcai had beaten him. The smile vanished in an instant, only to reappear just as quickly.
"Haha..." Zhao Jun couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly saw someone walk past the doorway.
The restaurant’s storefront was small, with just a single wooden door that had a small glass window set in its upper half.
Just now, through that window, Zhao Jun had caught a glimpse of someone’s profile.
The person was walking quickly, and their profile flashed past the small window in an instant, but Zhao Jun recognized them immediately.
Li Baoyu, his back to the entrance, saw Zhao Jun looking toward the door. He turned to look as well, but the doorway was already empty.
"Brother, what are you looking at?"
Zhao Jun frowned. "Baoyu," he said, "stop drinking."
