Chapter 11 The Bear and the Cheese (Revised)
Free porridge is being distributed at the church.
Most of those who came to collect the porridge were elderly people and children, along with a few dejected middle-aged people; there were almost no young people.
As a young, strong, yet shameless man who came to collect welfare, He Changyi was given a bowl of porridge and then dismissed with disdain.
She stood on the street, staring blankly at the bowl in her hand, its contents unclear, resembling three parts porridge and seven parts vomit.
No way, the local Heavenly Father's ears are too sharp! She only muttered a couple of words in her heart, and he really did appear!
He Changyi tentatively tasted a mouthful of porridge, and spat it all out the next second.
Even though it's free, this porridge is such a bizarre dish!
Moldy wheat grains, sawdust and wood shavings used as thickeners, and a strange, sour, bitter taste.
Feeding this stuff to dogs would be considered animal cruelty.
Holding a bowl of cold sawdust porridge, He Changyi stood on the snowy street, feeling that her life had become as bleak and desolate as Mosk's.
Even if she earned another 110,000 rubles, it wouldn't save her damaged sense of taste.
"#￥@*%&?"
A somewhat familiar Eros female voice suddenly rang out. He Changyi turned his head and was surprised to find that it was the old Eros woman who had sold silver teapots before.
She looked at He Changyi with a serious and worried expression, speaking very quickly.
He Changyi said, "...Sorry, but I don't understand."
The old woman realized this as well, and immediately took He Changyi's hand and led him in a certain direction.
He Changyi tried to struggle, but the old woman grabbed her hand like an iron clamp and said a long speech that left no room for argument, forcibly dragging her back to her own home.
This is a very spacious house, and the carpets and wallpaper reveal its former prosperity, but now it looks empty due to the lack of furniture and decorations.
The old woman pressed He Changyi down to sit in front of the fireplace, draped a thick old blanket over her, poured her a steaming cup of black tea, and stuffed it into her hands without allowing her to refuse.
It wasn't until her body temperature began to rise that He Changyi felt the tingling and itching sensation from the frostbite all over her body.
The old woman tossed He Changyi to the fireplace to thaw, then plunged into the kitchen to busy herself.
Hearing the clanging and banging sounds coming from inside, He Changyi quietly stood up and inspected the entire large house.
Surprisingly, yet not so surprising, the old woman was all alone there.
There were no ambushes, no traps, and no thieves or robbers.
Many photos hung on the wall: an old woman and her husband in their youth, half a wedding photo of a Slavic blonde beauty, and a handsome dark-haired boy looking unhappy at the camera.
He Changyi felt that the photo looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She stood in front of the photo, racking her brains.
Just then, the old woman came out carrying several plates and loudly called out to her to come and eat.
A plate of black bread, a plate of yogurt, a plate of sliced tomatoes, and a palm-sized plate of thin sausage slices.
Next to the black bread was a dish of white granular condiments. He Changyi didn't understand what it meant, but the old woman gestured for her to dip the bread in it.
She did as instructed, and was so overwhelmed by the saltiness that she nearly fell backward.
—Damn it, it's salt.
Perhaps it was because He Changyi's expression was so bitter and resentful that the old woman's usually serious face broke into a smile.
There was a sudden noise at the door, and someone walked in.
He Changyi looked up and saw that only one light was on in the house to save electricity. In the dim light, she seemed to see a bear walking upright.
The old woman happily went to greet them, and the two spoke in Emei language. During their conversation, they mentioned He Changyi and it seemed that they had some disagreement.
Finally, the old woman made the final decision, forcibly pushing "Bear" to the dining table so that he and He Changyi sat facing each other, while she turned and went into the kitchen to continue cutting bread.
An awkward silence.
He Changyi finally saw Xiong's face clearly; it was the black-haired, gray-eyed man she had met at the train station.
Now she finally understood where the strange sense of familiarity she felt when she saw the boy's photo came from.
The man looked at He Changyi coldly and suddenly spoke.
When are you leaving?
He Changyi exclaimed in surprise, "You can speak Chinese?!"
The man frowned, his eyebrows pressing heavily against his eyes.
"You should leave."
He Changyi, feeling rebellious, leaned back in his chair and said with a smile:
"If it's the old lady's request, I will leave immediately."
The man gave her a cold look, stood up, and his tall figure blocked the light, casting a shadow.
"I don't want to see you again tomorrow."
He turned and left, and a short while later, the sound of the door opening and closing came from the gate.
The old woman hurriedly brought out the bread, and seeing that the man had already left, she complained a few times unhappily.
He Changyi looked helpless at the right moment. The old woman patted her arm reassuringly and brought her a cup of hot milk with honey, urging her to drink it while it was hot.
He Changyi did not sleep well that night.
She placed her duffel bag beside the bed, and next to her was a long bread knife that she had secretly hidden.
However, nothing happened when it got light.
The old woman was still asleep when He Changyi placed the silver teapot on the dining table and quietly opened the door to leave.
As she went outside, she saw the man again.
He stood under the streetlight, a cigarette in his hand, lost in thought, a long trail of ash forming on the cigarette.
The man paused slightly when he saw He Changyi.
He Changyi nodded to the man, but he lowered his eyes and looked away.
A strange but rather handsome bear...
As agreed yesterday, He Changyi arrived at the Baikal Hotel, where the Stan man was already waiting at the door. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he eagerly came to greet her.
Before the other party could speak, He Changyi spoke first.
"Exchange is possible, but you have to do it my way."
The alley behind the Baikal Hotel.
He Changyi stood at the entrance of the alley, blocking the only exit.
Voices could be heard from not far away, mostly in Chinese and little in Emei.
The Stanman glanced at He Changyi, then at the alleyway outside, a hint of hesitation flashing across his face.
But in the end, his gaze fell on the duffel bag that the woman from Zhongguo was carrying. After a moment's hesitation, he couldn't bear to give up this rare opportunity.
He Changyi was also sizing up the Stan man, who was clutching a bulging leather bag tightly to his chest, his eyes darting around.
"First, count the US dollars, then the rubles. Once the quantities are correct, the exchange will take place. If any unexpected event occurs during the transaction, the transaction will be terminated immediately. If even one of the US dollars you present is counterfeit, the transaction will also be terminated immediately."
The Stan man, with a smile on his face, said in broken Chinese:
"Really, there's no problem, I'm not lying."
He Changyi did not answer, but simply held out his hand, gesturing for the other party to take out US dollars worth 110,000 rubles.
The Stanman opened the zipper of his bag, carefully took out a roll of US dollars tied with a rubber band, and handed it over without hesitation, which He Changyi counted himself.
Before untying the rubber bands, He Changyi noticed a one-dollar bill on the outermost layer of the bundle of US dollars.
She glanced at the Stan man, who seemed unconcerned, as if he didn't see anything wrong with placing the smallest denomination banknote on the outside.
He Changyi noted this suspicious point in his mind, then untied the rubber bands and took out each banknote individually to check its authenticity, patiently writing down the banknote serial numbers with a pen.
Seeing this, the Stanman shifted his body somewhat uneasily.
But he didn't say anything, he just stared intently at He Changyi, as if afraid she would take the opportunity to pocket a few US dollars.
He Changyi counted the banknotes slowly and took quite a long time to verify them all.
The people of Stan didn't bring seven hundred-dollar bills to exchange for US dollars; instead, they brought one-dollar, ten-dollar, and one-hundred-dollar bills.
His explanation was that he had obtained these US dollars from others, hence the fragmented nature of the money—a claim that He Changyi held reservations about.
After counting the money, He Changyi handed it back to the man, who then used a new rubber band to tie it up.
The counting of money continues; this time it's rubles.
It took a while to count the 110,000 rubles, but the Stanman seemed very satisfied and immediately offered to exchange them for a roll of US dollars.
He Changyi called a halt.
What are you holding in your hand?
The muscles in Stan's face twitched involuntarily.
"Of course it's US dollars... What are you trying to say? I don't understand what you mean..."
He Changyi tilted his head.
"Dollar?"
She calmly countered with:
"Is it a seven-hundred-dollar bill, or a seven-dollar bill?"
The Stanman forced a smile and said:
"Of course it's seven hundred, you counted it."
He Changyi looked genuinely puzzled.
"You've already cut it all, where did the seven hundred dollars come from? Why don't you break it apart and count it again?"
The Stanman finally stopped laughing.
He took a step back warily, put his hand in his purse, and stiffly kept his mouth shut, not uttering a word.
"Cutting the exchange" is a black market term that refers to one party illegally withholding part or all of the transaction funds during the currency exchange process.
In the foreign exchange industry, swindling, fraud, and extortion are commonplace, and robbery and murder under the guise of currency exchange are not uncommon.
In Moscow, there are many traders who carry large sums of rubles after selling their goods on the train, as well as many swindlers who specialize in currency exchange.
If a Chinese person living in Osaka hasn't encountered a cross-border trader, they'd be embarrassed to call themselves a trader.
The Stanman stared intently at He Changyi, unable to understand where he had slipped up.
He Changyi said understandingly:
"Do you want to know how I found out?"
It's actually very simple; all you need is a little focus and observation.
When the Stanman pulled out a roll of US dollars, He Changyi immediately sensed something was wrong.
Normally, people would put smaller denominations of money at the inside and larger denominations at the outside.
The Stantons, however, did the opposite, placing the $1 bill on the outside of a roll of money and the $100 bill on the inside.
After He Changyi finished counting the money, the Stanman retied it, with the $1 bill still on the outside—even though He Changyi had already rearranged the money in ascending order of denomination.
Moreover, he used a new rubber band when tying the money.
A new rubber band, a different color than the old one.
By this point, He Changyi was completely certain that the Stan people had come to Chehui.
He used the color of the rubber bands to mark the amount of money: new rubber bands held a genuine seven hundred dollars, while old rubber bands held an amount that was uncertain.
Because whether it's $1 or $100, their size and format are not much different.
In other words, the bundle of money with the same outermost $1 bill, which He Changyi personally inspected, was completely different from the one that the Stan people ultimately gave her.
The bundle of money that the Stanman eventually brought to exchange for currency was opened up and found to contain only $1 bills.
After He Changyi finished explaining slowly and methodically, the Stanman's face turned completely dark.
He should have refused when Ho Chang-yi asked him to exchange currency at a hotel frequented by Chinese people.
But he was too greedy. Seeing that He Changyi was a novice trader who couldn't even speak Emei language and was a foreign woman who had come alone, he felt that he had an opportunity to take advantage of her.
However, it's not too late yet; there's still a chance to salvage the situation.
The Stanman, clutching his briefcase, recklessly pushed forward, trying to squeeze through the narrow space between He Changyi and the wall.
He Changyi did not move aside; instead, he completely blocked the exit.
The Stanman said fiercely:
"Get out of the way! I'm not changing!"
He Changyi, however, said:
"No, I want to change. You can't pretend nothing happened after wasting my time."
The Stanman glared at her fiercely, his hand twitching inside his purse.
"If you don't want to die, get out of my way!"
He Changyi smoothed her bangs, a hint of indulgent helplessness in her expression.
"Since I dared to lure you to a deserted alley, I'm sure I'm not afraid. But I suggest you think it through and don't do something you'll regret."
The Stanman clearly didn't take He Changyi's words to heart.
He suddenly pulled his hand out of his bag, grabbed a sharpened dagger, and lunged at He Changyi!
People outside the alley heard several muffled thuds, followed by a half-scream, and looked suspiciously into the dark alley entrance.
"What happened?"
"What else could it be? It's just the same old thing on Russian territory, isn't it?"
"Let's go take a look together."
"Never mind it, it's better to avoid trouble..."
In the alley, He Changyi patted non-existent dust off his hands and kicked the twitching humanoid object on the ground.
"I told you not to do anything you'll regret, but why won't you listen to advice?"
During He Changyi's brief time in the countryside as Yang Daniu, she had some freedom because it was outside the main plot, and she learned a move from a wrestling coach who was also in the countryside.
She is quick to learn, not afraid of pain, ruthless to herself and others, and learns very fast.
The coach was delighted and even wanted to recruit He Changyi into the provincial team for training.
However, because this was not part of the original plot, it was ultimately left unresolved.
However, to borrow an overused phrase, all that has passed is but a prologue.
Although I couldn't make a name for myself with wrestling before the end of the historical fiction, isn't this coming in handy now?
He Changyi squatted down, pulled the leather bag that the man was tightly protecting from his arms, unzipped it, and took out two rolls of US dollars.
"Thank you for your generous gift. I won't stand on ceremony."
—What's wrong with gangsters eating each other? It's called doing as the Romans do.
The Stanman struggled to lift his head from the ground, his eyes wide with rage.
I'm calling the police to arrest you!
He Changyi said without restraint:
"Then you can call the police. Do you need me to call the police for you?"
Within just a few days of arriving in Oros, she had become acutely aware of the inaction of the local police.
Compared to them, even the peaked cap that stopped her at the Friendship Store to check her ID seemed cute.
Even if Stanman was a conman who was double-crossed and robbed, the police wouldn't bother with it.
The Stanman clearly realized this as well, and glared fiercely at He Changyi.
"Aren't you afraid I'll call for help?!"
He Changyi rolled her eyes.
"Then shout all you want, no one will come. This area is full of Chinese people, and maybe some of them have been scammed by you. Do you think they'll help you, the swindler, or join me in trying to make up for their losses?"
This is why He Changyi insisted on setting the transaction location near the Baikal Hotel.
Seeing that Stan was panting heavily but remained silent, He Changyi kindly reminded him:
"Is it too painful for you to shout? Do you want me to shout for you?"
The Stanman gritted his teeth and struggled to get up from the ground.
He Changyi kindly covered his head with her purse, unable to bear letting him witness the cruel scene that was about to unfold.
The next moment, she suddenly chopped him down with a hand chop, making him completely obedient.
Before falling into a coma, the Stan man thought in disbelief, "Is this really the gentle and reserved woman from the Zhong Kingdom?!"
What's the difference between her and a bandit?
Sukabul!
A note from the author:
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It's true that churches distributed sawdust porridge for charity, although I have no idea how anyone is supposed to drink that stuff...
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