Chapter 616: Almost Scared to Pee
Zhou Yimin seemed to see that Chen Jianguo was worried: "Old Chen, if you have any difficulties, just tell me and see if I can help you solve them."
Chen Jianguo whined to himself, "Chief Zhou, it's the end of the year now, and everyone is busy purchasing supplies, but I can only lie here."
Don't underestimate the sense of responsibility of people today, it is incomparable to that of future generations.
Zhou Yimin thought it was something serious: "Old Chen, don't worry! The workers' New Year gifts have been distributed."
Chen Jianguo didn't expect that the factory would be so successful this time: "Chief Zhou, who is so capable to purchase so many supplies?"
Zhou Dazhong explained: "Who else could it be? Only our Section Chief Zhou has such ability."
After chatting for a while, Zhou Yimin looked at his watch, found it was getting late, and stood up to say goodbye.
Chen Jianguo wanted to stand up and see him off, but Zhou Yimin held him down by force: "Old Chen, you should rest more since you are injured."
After saying that, he took Zhou Dazhong away.
The outline of the Red Star Hospital gradually blurred behind Zhou Yimin and Zhou Dazhong.
The cold wind carried snow particles and hit the two people, making a rustling sound.
They rode their motorcycles along the icy road toward the steel plant, the roar of their engines echoing in the quiet streets.
Back at the steel plant, it was still a busy scene.
The towering chimneys spewed out white smoke, and the roar of machines and the sound of metal colliding in the workshop intertwined together, like a never-ending industrial symphony.
After Zhou Dazhong parked the car, he looked at Zhou Yimin apologetically and said, "Uncle Sixteen, there are still some stocks to be checked at the warehouse. I have to go and get busy first."
His figure quickly disappeared on the path leading to the warehouse, leaving only a series of deep and shallow footprints on the snow.
Zhou Yimin put his hands in his pockets and walked slowly towards the purchasing department office.
Inside the office, the heating pipes made a slight buzzing sound, and the shopping list on the desk was gently fluttered by the wind.
He sat back at his workstation and glanced at Chen Jianguo's empty seat, where there was a half-finished cup of herbal tea with a circle of brown tea stains on the rim.
The sky outside the window was getting darker and darker. The lights from the workshop shone through the glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the ground.
Zhou Yimin just sat there quietly, sometimes looking through documents, sometimes staring out the window in a daze, and time passed slowly in silence.
Finally, the bell for the end of get off work rang on time as usual, and the sharp sound pierced the silence of the office.
Zhou Yimin stood up and sorted out the documents on his desk. When he was about to leave, the office door was pushed open with a creaky sound.
Zhou Dafu was panting, his cheeks reddened by the cold wind. He walked quickly to Zhou Yimin and said, "Uncle Sixteen, my master asked me to give this to you."
As he spoke, he handed over a bunch of truck keys, the metal keys glowing coldly under the light.
Zhou Yimin reached out and took the key, which still had the warmth of Chow Tai Fook's palm on it.
He nodded slightly and didn't say much.
Thinking that there would be nothing to do at home, he might as well wait for the action in the evening at the factory, and sat back in his chair.
Zhou Dafu rubbed his hands and said a little embarrassedly: "Uncle Sixteen, my family is waiting for dinner..."
Zhou Yimin smiled and waved his hand: "Go quickly, don't let your family wait anxiously."
After Chow Tai Fook left, the office fell silent again.
Zhou Yimin leaned back in his chair, staring at the key in his hand, but his thoughts drifted to tonight's mission.
Imagine the truck you will be driving and the scene of smoothly delivering the goods to the designated location.
The snow started falling outside the window again, fluttering down and landing in every corner of the factory, adding a touch of mystery to the night.
Zhou Yimin just waited quietly, waiting for the clock to slowly move towards ten o'clock, waiting for the upcoming action.
But he couldn't let himself down, so he took out a braised pig's trotter and some braised beef in soy sauce from the store, and sat in the office, eating by himself.
Zhou Yimin was thinking, if he had a mobile phone now, he could watch videos and eat at the same time, and he wouldn’t have to worry about life. How great it would be.
But at this time Zhou Dazhong rushed in with two white flour buns in his hand. He knew that Zhou Yimin had a mission tonight and would have to stay until very late, so he thought of going back to get something to eat with Zhou Yimin.
I didn’t expect that Zhou Yimin had already eaten, and that he was eating so well. I couldn’t help but swallow my saliva.
Zhou Yimin was still chewing beef. He looked up and saw Zhou Dazhong coming in. He quickly swallowed the beef in his mouth and said, "Dazhong, do you want to eat some with us?"
Zhou Dazhong was not polite either. He had eaten with Zhou Yimin quite often, and had also had more sumptuous meals with him.
But it was not eaten in vain, so he handed over one of the two steamed buns in his hand.
After Zhou Yimin took it, the two of them ate and chatted.
They quickly finished more than a pound of braised beef and a whole braised pig's trotter, and then they lay back in the chairs, still unsatisfied.
Zhou Yimin said at this time: "Dazhong, if you feel sleepy, just take a nap here, and we will set off when the time comes."
Zhou Dazhong nodded, and then the two of them took some time to rest, so they lay down on the chairs and fell asleep right after eating.
The fluorescent tubes in the purchasing department's office made a tired hum at dusk. Zhou Yimin put two wooden chairs together, pulled over his military coat to use as a mattress, and put his folded cotton jacket behind his head.
Zhou Dazhong curled up on a pile of cardboard boxes next to the radiator, using the purchase manual as a pillow. Soon he began to breathe evenly. The tips of his cotton shoes were still sticking out of the boxes, and the snow on them melted into water stains under the heating.
The sky outside the window darkened completely, and the sound of machines in the workshop gradually became sparse, with only the blower in the boiler room still clanging in the distance.
Zhou Yimin felt his neck stiffen in a daze. He raised his hand to touch the watch beside the pillow. The dial glowed coldly in the dim light - the pointer was stuck at ten ten, ten minutes later than expected.
He sat up suddenly, his military coat slipped to the ground, and the cold air with the smell of motor oil instantly penetrated into his collar.
"Dazhong! Wake up!" Zhou Yimin's leather shoes kicked the cardboard box, making a dull sound.
Zhou Dazhong jumped up like a frightened rabbit, banging his elbow on the metal filing cabinet. He grimaced in pain, but he still rubbed his eyes and muttered, "Uncle Sixteen, what time is it now?"
There were tiny pieces of cotton wool on his eyelashes, and he was obviously fast asleep. "Why do I feel like I just closed my eyes?"
"Ten ten!" Zhou Yimin bent down to pick up his military coat and wrapped it around himself. The metal buttons hurt his ribs. "If you delay any longer, you'll be late!"
He grabbed the Jiefang truck key from the table, and the metal chain left a red mark on his palm.
Zhou Dazhong finally came to his senses. He hurriedly put on his cotton jacket, but put the sleeves on backwards. He struggled for a long time to straighten them out. The string on the waist of his cotton trousers was still hanging loosely.
The moment Zhou Yimin opened the office door, the north wind blew in with snow foam, making the two people's hair fly.
Zhou Dazhong shuddered suddenly and his teeth began to chatter. The sleepiness he felt was like smoke blown away by the cold wind and disappeared without a trace in an instant.
He stared at the dark staircase at the end of the corridor, and suddenly remembered the smell of plaster in Old Chen's ward in the morning. His Adam's apple rolled unconsciously - he could not avoid this mission after all.
Zhou Yimin turned the key chain on his fingertips half a circle, and the sound of metal collision was particularly clear in the empty corridor: "Go to the warehouse and drive, be gentle."
The hem of his military coat swept across the frosted ground, leaving a shallow mark. "Remember the route. Go out the back door and around to the brick kiln. Don't go through the sentry box at the main entrance."
Zhou Dazhong said "hmm" and hurried to catch up. He found that his cotton shoes were slipping on the tiles. It turned out that he forgot to tie his shoelaces in the panic.
The truck's headlights pierced the thick night, and its wheels made a harsh friction sound as they rolled over the icy dirt road.
Zhou Yimin gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed straight ahead. The dim blue light from the dashboard reflected on his tense face.
Zhou Dazhong beside him was holding a map in his hand. The route he had drawn on the paper was wrinkled by sweat. He would look out the window from time to time to identify the road signs.
The abandoned brick kiln slowly emerged under the illumination of car lights. The mottled kiln walls looked like an old face covered with cracks. The cold wind blew through the broken window frames, making a whimpering sound.
Zhou Yimin turned off the engine. When the metal key was pulled out of the ignition hole, there was a crisp "click" sound, which scared away several crows perched on the kiln roof.
"Hurry up." Zhou Yimin jumped off the truck, and his military boots made a "crunching" sound as he stepped on the gravel.
He rubbed his frozen hands, and the white breath he exhaled instantly condensed into ice crystals in the light.
Zhou Dazhong had already walked around to the rear of the truck. When he lifted the canvas, a biting chill mixed with a strong smell of meat hit him in the face.
Three hundred kilograms of pork were frozen as hard as stone, and the surface of the meat pieces tied with hemp ropes was covered with thick frost.
Zhou Yimin hunched over, holding the hemp rope with both hands, his muscles tensed under his military coat, "One, two, three!"
He growled and exerted force at the same time as Zhou Dazhong. The heavy piece of meat left long scratches on the truck bed.
Every time he lifted his hands, the hot air he exhaled formed white frost on his eyelashes, and the gloves rubbed against the hemp rope, soon becoming frayed.
Apple boxes were piled in a corner of the brick kiln, covered with straw stained white by frost.
Zhou Dazhong picked up a box, but almost slipped because of the ice on the bottom of the box. "Uncle Sixteen, this box is too heavy!"
His voice echoed in the empty brick kiln. Zhou Yimin stepped forward quickly, and the two of them each lifted a corner of the box and placed it steadily next to the pork.
Sweat slid down Zhou Yimin's neck and flowed like a stream on his cold back, but he didn't bother to wipe it off.
Finally, all the goods were loaded. Zhou Yimin leaned on the truck and breathed heavily. Looking at Zhou Dazhong's red hands and his cotton jacket stained with straw, he felt grateful.
"Thanks to you." He patted Zhou Dazhong on the shoulder, "If I were alone, I would have collapsed from exhaustion."
The truck started again, and the roar of its engine broke the silence of the night.
Zhou Yimin gripped the steering wheel tightly and drove in the direction specified by Director Ding.
In the rearview mirror, the outline of the abandoned brick kiln gradually blurred, and only the occasional dull sound of cargo colliding in the truck bed reminded people that this secret transportation was still going on.
The cold wind hit the car windows, as if urging them on and covering up the unspeakable secret.
The truck's headlights plowed two silver light tracks in the snow. Just after passing the stone bridge behind the brick kiln, Zhou Yimin suddenly stepped on the brakes.
The front of the car suddenly sank, and Zhou Dazhong hit the iron fender in front of him. He covered his forehead and gasped: "Uncle Sixteen, what's wrong?"
Before he could finish his words, two dazzling searchlights swept in from behind the roadblock. Red and blue police lights flashed alternately in the night. The brims of the patrolmen's cotton hats were covered with ice, and the butts of their guns made dull noises as they knocked against the frozen ground.
"Checkpoint." Zhou Dazhong's voice trembled, his fingers digging into the cracks of the seat, his knuckles turning white like a piece of frozen meat.
The frost on the windshield was misted by his rapid breathing. He could vaguely see four patrol members stamping their feet around a campfire, with rifles slung over their shoulders, the cold light on the bolts flickering in the firelight.
Zhou Yimin's knuckles pressed against the steering wheel, leaving white marks.
He slowly released the handbrake, and the engine let out a low roar: "Don't be afraid, just follow the plan."
The truck moved forward slowly at idle speed, and the squeaking sound of the tires rolling over the snow was particularly clear in the silent night.
Zhou Dazhong looked at the roadblock getting closer and closer, his Adam's apple rolling up and down, cold sweat sliding down his forehead into his collar, giving him a chill.
"Stop the car!" The captain in a military coat raised his flashlight and shone the beam of light directly at the driver's seat.
Zhou Yimin stepped on the brakes and the truck stopped two meters in front of the roadblock, with the headlights just illuminating the badge on the patrolman's chest.
Four team members quickly gathered around, two guarded the door, and two went around to the rear of the car. The beams of their flashlights swept across the canvas of the car, like wolf eyes searching for prey.
"Comrade, where are you going so late?" The captain's voice was chilly and carried unquestionable majesty.
His flashlight flashed across Zhou Yimin's face, then shone towards Zhou Dazhong, who was sitting in the passenger seat.
"Identification."
Zhou Dazhong's hands trembled and he almost dropped the purchasing manual in his arms.
Zhou Yimin fished out a brown paper bag from beside the dashboard. His fingertips were slightly stiff from nervousness, but he still kept his movements steady: "We are from the steel plant, and we are transporting waste materials to a processing point on the outskirts of the city."
When he handed over the certificate in the paper bag, the corners rustled slightly in the cold wind - it was the "waste transportation pass" that Director Ding asked the Logistics Department to issue, stamped with a bright red official seal, and even the date was calculated in advance.
The captain held the certificate close to the campfire, and the sparks burned a small hole in the paper.
The team members behind him had already lifted the canvas of the carriage, and the beam of the flashlight pierced through the darkness, shining on the scrap steel piled up like a mountain - those were camouflage materials that Zhou Yimin had specially moved from the warehouse. There were also a few pieces of broken glass sandwiched between the rusty steel pipes, which glowed coldly in the light.
With two "bangs", the team members knocked on the scrap iron with the butt of their guns. The dull sound proved that there was indeed no interlayer underneath.
"Let's go." The captain returned the certificate, with oil stains from his fingertips on the paper.
When the roadblock was lifted by two team members, the wooden pole made a harsh sound when it rubbed against the ground.
The moment Zhou Yimin changed gears, he caught a glimpse of Zhou Dazhong staring at the patrol team's campfire in a daze, his lips trembling uncontrollably.
After the truck passed the checkpoint, Zhou Dazhong discovered that the back of his military coat was soaked with cold sweat.
In the rearview mirror, the red and blue police lights gradually shrank into two blurred dots of light. Zhou Dazhong suddenly swallowed his saliva and collapsed on his seat, gasping for breath: "Uncle Sixteen, I thought just now..."
Zhou Yimin joked: "Did you think you were going to fail?"
Zhou Dazhong smiled awkwardly. He had almost thought of his "last words" just now. If he was caught doing this, it would be very serious.
(End of this chapter)
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