Chapter 212: Chapter 187: Waylaying
"Huh?" Li Baoyu froze, looking at Zhao Jun in surprise.
Zhao Jun whispered, "There might be trouble soon."
Hearing this, Li Baoyu looked back toward the entrance. Although no one was there now, he was reminded of something that had happened the last time they came to Yong’an Town to sell a Gall.
"Yeah, no more drinking. Let’s just eat," Li Baoyu said, pushing the small wine jug to the corner of the table.
Outside the restaurant, in an alley between two rows of houses across the street, six men were squatting against a wall. Their movements were uniform; they all had their arms crossed, with their hands tucked into the opposite sleeves.
Just then, a man hurried in from the mouth of the alley. One of the six, a man wearing a yellow cotton-padded jacket, looked up and asked him, "Are those two kids eating?"
"Yup." The newcomer wore a black cotton-padded jacket and a dog-fur hat. He had a large mole between his eyebrows, making him look like he had a third eye.
He said, "Those two kids made some money and went to a restaurant. They’re feasting inside."
The man in the yellow cotton-padded jacket craned his neck to look toward the innermost part of the group, at another man in a black cotton-padded jacket squatting against the far corner of the wall, and asked, "You guys followed them last time, too, right?"
"Yup," said this man in the black jacket. "Last time, they were selling a Gall. Chengzi and I followed them, and the two kids pulled knives on us."
"What’s there to be afraid of if they pull knives?" The Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket sneered. "No matter what they pull, we’re robbing them today." At this, he looked up at the messenger again and asked, "What’s this? I heard they were carrying a pickaxe handle?"
"That’s right," the messenger replied. "I was in the department store and heard one of the kids say it."
"A pickaxe handle... Heh." The Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket scoffed dismissively. "Bringing that thing? Are they children?"
A pickaxe handle, to put it plainly, is just a wooden stick. This stick can be attached to various farm tools—a pickaxe head, a shovelhead, or even a hoe head.
These men were all robbers who lived a dangerous life. How could a mere pickaxe handle possibly scare them?
The Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket continued, "I remember you said they’re from the countryside, right? There are no buses at this hour, so I doubt they’ll wait around. We’ll follow them, and once they’re out of town, we’ll find a deserted spot to make our move."
As he spoke, the Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket slapped the burly, bald man next to him. "Elder San, it’ll be up to you then."
Shaving his head in the dead of winter—this Elder San was certainly a fierce character. He wore a patched blue cotton-padded jacket, his face full of brutish muscle, looking utterly menacing.
Hearing the Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket’s words, the bald Elder San gave a cold smirk and reached down to pick up a thick iron chain from beside his feet.
Elder San grabbed both ends of the chain and pulled it taut. With a loud CLANG, the chain straightened out.
The iron chain was about 1.2 meters long. It was unclear what it was used for, but it was as thick as an egg and looked quite heavy. If sold for scrap, it would probably be worth a bit of money.
Gripping both ends, Elder San swung the chain in front of him twice. As he swung it, he said, "Boss, just watch me. It’s only two kids, right? Watch me take them down, one per swing."
「Inside the restaurant.」
Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu ate in silence, the atmosphere heavy.
It wasn’t that they were afraid of trouble; they were just annoyed.
"Brother," Li Baoyu said, picking up a green onion provided by the owner. He dipped it into the soybean paste, took a hard bite of the white stalk, and asked, "Do you think the price of Lynx Fur has also gone up?"
"Why would the price of that go up?" Zhao Jun shook his head. "That stuff is even rarer than the Galls. His shop barely buys a few pelts a year; there’s no set price. Didn’t you see? We sell one, and the guy has to make a phone call to ask."
Just as he spoke, the braised pork arrived at their table.
Seeing the date-red braised pork, a smile finally appeared on Li Baoyu’s face.
It wasn’t that they lacked pork to eat, but what they ate was always wild boar. And wild boars have very little fat.
In those days, fatty meat was far more popular than lean meat.
Besides, wild boar meat was nowhere near as tasty as domestic pork.
"Owner, get us two bottles of soda," Zhao Jun said after a moment’s thought, deciding to order them anyway.
"You got it."
"And two more spoons."
After getting the sodas and spoons, Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu used the small porcelain spoons to scoop the braised pork into their bowls. Then they used the spoons to mix it with their rice and shovel it into their mouths.
This meat was so satisfying.
The two of them finished off the two dishes, a steamer of dumplings, four large bowls of rice, and four bottles of soda. By the time they started letting out full, satisfied burps instead of soda-fueled ones, the table was a complete mess.
Zhao Jun called the owner over to settle the bill. The owner came over, took a look, and said, "Two fen for the wine, twenty fen for four bottles of soda, four bowls of rice..."
At this point, the owner looked at Zhao Jun and asked, "Do you have ration coupons?"
"No," Zhao Jun said. "I’ll pay for everything with cash."
The owner nodded and continued calculating. In those days, you needed not just money but also coupons to eat out.
But this was already 1987, and goods weren’t as scarce as before. At this state-run restaurant, you could get by without coupons if you paid the equivalent amount in cash.
The owner tallied it up. Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu’s total bill came to two yuan, fifty-seven fen.
Zhao Jun took out a roll of cash, counted out three yuan, and after a moment’s thought, said to the owner, "And get me four more bottles of soda."
"Huh?" The owner was taken aback. ’They’re already finished eating, what do they need more soda for? If they wanted to drink more, one bottle each would be enough. Why order four all at once?’
Zhao Jun said, "We’re taking them to go."
"Oh, to go." The owner understood. "If you drink them here, I don’t charge a bottle deposit. But if you’re taking them, you have to pay a five-fen deposit for each bottle."
"Fine." Zhao Jun tossed the three yuan onto the table.
The owner then came over, carrying two bottles of soda in each hand. He placed them on the table, pulled three one-fen coins from his pocket, and handed them to Zhao Jun, saying, "Next time you come, bring the bottles back, and I’ll refund you the twenty fen."
"Alright." Zhao Jun smiled, motioned to Li Baoyu, and pointed at the four soda bottles. "Put these in your bag."
Li Baoyu looked at Zhao Jun and asked, "What are we getting these for?"
Zhao Jun said, "We came all this way and didn’t buy anything for our younger brother and sister. We’ll take these back and give them one each."
The soda in the Northeast at the time wasn’t as good as the Beibingyang brand from the Capital; it was basically just carbonated sugar water.
But even something like this was unavailable back in the mountains.
For one, the mountain roads were rugged and difficult to transport things on; if the bottles broke, it would be a loss. For another, the standard of living was low. Many people had to think twice before spending even two fen on a candy ball for their kids.
Hearing this, Li Baoyu took the soda bottles and started stuffing them into his satchel. After packing three, he picked up the fourth and suddenly stopped.
"What’s wrong?" Zhao Jun had already picked up the rolled-up burlap sack and tucked it under his arm, ready to leave, when he saw Li Baoyu’s hesitation.
Li Baoyu said, "Let’s return this one. Ruhai doesn’t need it."
"Just pack it!" Zhao Jun gave him a push, and the two headed out of the restaurant.
The two of them left the restaurant, walked out of Yong’an Town, and started down the road toward home. By now, there was no one in front of them or to their sides.
Only behind them, where seven men were following.
Zhao Jun glanced back and noticed that when he did, the seven men suddenly picked up their pace.
Zhao Jun patted Li Baoyu, and the two of them turned around.
The seven men stopped in unison, about eight meters away from Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu.
CLANG... The bald Elder San swung his arm, and an iron chain flew out, dangling by his side.
"Hey, kid!" The Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket in the lead stepped forward, pointed at Zhao Jun, and said aggressively, "Hand over that bag of yours... Holy shit!"
Zhao Jun had originally been holding the rolled-up burlap sack under his left arm.
But just as the bald Elder San swung out his chain, Zhao Jun grabbed the front end of the sack with his left hand, bracing the back end against his left side.
Then, he gripped the top of the sack with his left hand and yanked it downwards.
This single pull revealed a handle.
But this was no pickaxe handle.
Zhao Jun’s right hand gripped the handle and pulled, while his left hand held the sack still.
The motion was just like drawing a sword.
As he drew out this "pickaxe handle," he was met with the Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket’s demand.
The Yellow Cotton-padded Jacket had just gotten out the two words "hand over" when he got a clear look at the thing in Zhao Jun’s hand. The sentence, which should have ended there, suddenly gained two extra curse words at the end.
