Chapter 116: Impermanence of Five Slips
Autumn 1946.
A black Chevrolet sedan rolled down a dirt road in the countryside, roaring toward a dilapidated little temple. A few skinny, patched-up children, pale and frail, sat on the threshold, munching on wild fruit. The sudden sight of the shiny iron structure, so imposing and commanding, frightened them so much that they vanished. After a moment, they popped their heads around the corner of the alley, peering in with suspicion.
The car door opened, and a pair of brown patent leather high heels stepped out, stepping firmly on the muddy ground. Then with a "bang", the car door was slammed shut.
The person who came down was a fashionable lady, wearing a beige windbreaker, adorned with a lake green silk scarf and white gloves. There was a sense of arrogance in her every move.
She paced slowly, her eyes passing over the faded plaque under the temple eaves and the willow tree in the inner courtyard, finally stopping on the charred ruins surrounding the small temple.
A few burnt-out beams still stood in the fields, with crows landing on them from time to time. On the broken stones and tiles, one could vaguely see some traces of the past.
A few clumps of wild chrysanthemums poked their heads out from corners, looking listless and their flowers pale.
She walked slowly forward, holding the collar of her windbreaker with both hands, and her high heels made a crisp rustling sound on the gravel.
"Zhao Fu, is this your former home?"
A burly man with wheat-colored skin appeared beside him at some point. He was tall, had a silver ring in his nose, and had a deep voice. He looked like a foreigner.
A little girl walked out from behind the man. She was wearing black clothes and had two ponytails. She looked around from time to time, playing with the grass and flowers, but there was no expression on her face.
Zhao Fu kicked the mud off her high heels and said with a smile, "Yes, I lived there for a while when I was a kid, when the mansion was still there. Look, from that area to that area, they were all my home."
She pointed to the distant ridges with a familiar look, and gestured with great excitement: "How is it? Is it bigger than your village?"
"The village where I was born is just one of many communities, not worth mentioning." Wu Caishen shook his head and looked at the ruins with his usual compassionate eyes. "What a pity! Building a house like this must have consumed a lot of effort and life."
"Haha, come on, we're not like you barbarians who have to make sacrifices to build houses." Zhao Fu stepped onto the top of the broken wall, lit a cigarette, and bit it between his red lips. "But it's true that hundreds of people died here. I guess the crops should have been easy to grow in the past few years."
"Fortunately, you and your daughter escaped."
Zhao Fu choked twice, fanned the smoke, and said with a smile: "What's the use? My mother still committed suicide after she found out. I guess she regretted not bringing her youngest son with her."
"Oh, you have a younger brother, what's his name?"
"He didn't get a name when he was born. His father is notorious, so it would be useless to give him a name."
"If the soul is still there, you can refine it into a puppet and keep it by your side, or help him transform into a ghost," Wu Caishen said with pity and sincerity: "After all, they are blood relatives, so it will be easier to use them."
Zhao Fu laughed wildly: "It's quite interesting."
She opened her arms and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they seemed to be filled with ghostly fire.
After a cup of tea, Zhao Fu listlessly put down his hand, biting the half-smoked cigarette butt: "It's been more than ten years, the soul must have been gone long ago."
"Let's go. We're just passing by anyway." She walked downstairs, holding up her skirt. "The old thing was burned to ashes. It seems there's nothing left for me."
The little girl held the hand of the God of Wealth, sniffed a wild chrysanthemum, and looked up and asked, "Will Tianjiu help me with revenge?"
Zhao Fu raised the corners of his lips and said bluntly: "Tian Jiu will not help anyone. He only cares about business."
She seemed to think of something: "Oh, and there's also the Laojun who has been dead for thousands of years."
"The dead cannot be resurrected. Could it be that he hasn't given up yet?"
The worried brows of the God of Wealth were like winding mountains: "He has his own ideas. That's Tianjiu."
Zhao Fu raised his lips and said arrogantly, "He's neither human nor ghost. How on earth did you make your sister so devoted to him?"
"Don't say that to her face anymore," Wu Caishen touched the top of the little girl's head beside him, "She has a much worse temper than I do."
Zhao Fu chuckled and said, "I won't just sit there and mess with those four people—let's go and get down to business."
When we came out of the ruins, the driver was already waiting on the roadside with a bag of dry food.
The car was a rare thing, and it attracted a lot of attention in the village. Soon, a lot of people gathered around it.
The villagers' eyes only moved back and forth on the car body, and then they were fixed on the bag of grain.
The Langang area suffered from floods in the first half of the year, and almost no harvest was achieved. The price of rice in the neighboring town skyrocketed. Life in the city was already difficult, and Hongfu Village had to tighten its belt and eat stale grain.
Facing the greedy gaze, Zhao Fu smiled and said, "Children under eighteen years old, line up and each come forward to receive a bushel of rice and a piece of bread."
The crowd was in an uproar, and someone asked, "Really?!"
"What about those without children?"
"Can I get the 19th one?..."
Zhao Fu leaned against the car door with his arms folded, blowing out a puff of smoke: "Hurry up, I won't give it to you if you ask again."
She had a cold and beautiful face, and her eyebrows and eyes did not show any kindness or generosity. Everyone was afraid that the charity they had obtained would fly away, so they pinched their throats and hurriedly rushed their children to line up. Some of the families with extra children secretly hid in the corners, with their mouths grinning to the sky.
Children of different heights lined up one by one and walked forward nervously.
Zhao Fu glanced at them one by one and nodded without any fluctuation in his expression. The driver then distributed the money evenly like on an assembly line.
It wasn't until a tall boy's turn came that Zhao Fu exclaimed "Wow" and raised his eyebrows.
Martial God of Wealth tilted his head: "Abundant spiritual energy, good bones."
"It's great that such a talent can emerge from such a poor and remote place," Zhao Fu smiled and said, "This is the one."
The God of Wealth sighed, "In the past, neighbors would kill chickens and sheep, bring gifts and wine, and beg for their children to become disciples. I never thought that now I have to choose the children myself."
"Times have changed. Which village still worships Laojun Temple these days?" Zhao Fu flicked away his cigarette butt and stomped on it twice with his shoe sole. "Everyone's against feudal superstition now, so the four major temples have to keep their heads down and behave themselves."
After the food was distributed, the girl in black clothes and twintails jumped down from the hood of the car, looked up and asked, "That person, should we just take him away?"
Zhao Fu hummed, then suddenly became interested again. He waved at the boy and said, "You, come here."
The boy had dark skin and was only wearing a coarse linen shirt. His hair was uneven and his face was covered with scars. He exuded the ferocity of a newborn calf.
Hearing Zhao Fu's voice, he took three or two steps over, lowered his head honestly, and acted as if he was obeying orders.
"The bread is given to you, why don't you eat it?"
The boy whispered, "I have a younger sister at home."
Zhao Fu raised his eyebrows: "Huh? She's not coming to pick it up?"
Each family with several children received several copies, and at that moment, it was enough to notify the entire village to rush out with their families.
The boy glanced at her quickly, his eyes filled with a worldly feeling that was not suitable for his age. He seemed to be struggling with whether he should say it so clearly. His voice was still dull: "I accepted it. I will do things for you. She is too young to do it."
Zhao Fu burst into laughter.
It turns out that this boy knows a lot. Although his understanding is a little biased, it still seems to make sense.
"Go to your house and take a look."
The boy's home was squeezed at the corner of the village. When Zhao Fu walked in, he snorted coldly: This cowshed plus three walls is called home.
There was indeed a girl of four or five years old inside, and a pale middle-aged woman lying on the bed.
Zhao Fu was even calmer than the boy. He sat down on the bed with a familiar manner and asked, "Are you sick?"
The woman gasped for breath, not knowing if she could see the person in front of her clearly. She simply answered the questions, as if talking would make her feel better: "...The Zhang family bullied me and beat me. The floods submerged the land and we had no food to eat."
Zhao Fu uttered an "Oh," reached out and picked up the few remaining Yanba peanuts beside the bed, peeled them, and threw the shells on the ground. He chewed them vaguely and clapped his hands twice: "Do you want revenge?"
The woman suddenly opened her eyes wide, her chest heaving, her cloudy eyes brightened, and she turned to look at her in confusion.
"The Zhang family is from my father's side. My father is dead, and they tricked us into signing the deed. They want to take back our land." The boy walked over expressionlessly and tucked in the corner of the quilt for the woman. "They used to come and beat us up every few days, but luckily, I can fight back now."
"Which one is surnamed Zhang? Where does he live?"
The boy answered subconsciously: "Zhang Jun, from the east end of the village, my cousin's son."
Zhao Fu uttered another "Oh," crossed his legs, and leaned his head back on his chin, speaking to someone he didn't know: "Zhang Jun at the east end of the village, remember that?"
Several dark shadows flashed past the house in an instant, and a rustling sound was heard from the beams.
The boy stood up with his back tensed, and asked anxiously, "What's that sound?!"
Zhao Fu was still peeling peanuts: "Just a few of them listening to the general."
The boy was so restless that he protected his sister who was playing in the yard. After an incense stick of time had passed, something fell heavily to the ground outside the yard.
He put his sister on the head of the quilt, ran out to take a look, and his hair stood on end. He suddenly covered his mouth and nose to prevent himself from shouting.
For some unknown reason, my cousin Zhang Jun fell to his death in front of the door, his neck was broken, and a pile of colorful banknotes were scattered on the ground.
Zhao Fu walked out as if it was nothing, bent down and picked up a piece of paper: "Is this deed yours?"
The boy grabbed it without thinking, held it in his hands and flipped through it tremblingly, his whole body still not recovering from the huge shock.
When he came to his senses, he suddenly fell to the ground and kowtowed to the young lady in front of him who was only a few years older than him, as if he was full of determination.
Zhao Fu waved to the driver to bring things over: a pile of rice, a pile of undivided cakes, and some candies. Since there was no table, they were all piled up and scattered on the floor of the house.
"Can we eat now?"
The boy came to his senses, quickly grabbed the pancake, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed it up, and ate it voraciously with tears in his eyes.
"Eat slowly," Zhao Fu patted his head, "and you'll have to work hard for me after you finish eating."
…
After leaving the boy's house, Zhao Fu got into the car.
Wu Caishen turned back from the front and asked: "How are you going to place him?"
"Let's ask the guys down there to pick us up in a couple of days. There's no room in the car." Zhao Fu leaned against the car window and supported his head.
"Does he know who he's helping?"
"I don't know, but he probably won't run away."
"Oh, that's very clever. You can't get away even if you run." Wu Caishen turned around and closed his eyes to rest. "Everywhere is a mess, but at least we don't eat people."
"Brake!" Zhao Fu suddenly stood up.
The black Chevrolet braked suddenly to a stop.
Zhao Fu looked out the car window and saw a faint, transparent soul that was about to disappear hidden among the ruins of the Zhao Mansion.
She was overjoyed: "Haha, there really is a fish that slipped through the net."
…
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