No. 3 Saner sells cars

  The letter was written on standard letter paper with a certain cooperative logo, but the words on the letter were in an even more standard steel pen song typeface, with neat and angular strokes, not particularly powerful, but with a lingering flavor that hits you right in the face.

  "Jian'er, the old man's days are numbered, and I'm afraid this is the last time you'll see your little rabbit. I've left a letter for you; if you have any insight, you'll naturally understand."

  Wang Jian looked at the first sentence of the old man's letter and was surprised to find it so playful. He felt a pang in his heart, but then couldn't help but laugh out loud. He thought to himself, "I really can't tell that this old man is so optimistic by nature? This isn't insight, this is just plain luck."

  He continued to read, a letter of over 2,000 words, most of which were enumerating Wang Jian's various shortcomings from childhood to adulthood, with annotations written in the margins. Wang Jian, who had no shame, was so embarrassed that his face turned red, and there was even mention of how he used to urinate into the village's public well when he was a child.

  "Shame on me..." Wang San Ye smiled awkwardly, muttering to himself: "Looks like I was quite a handful when I was young."

  But it can also be seen that although this letter is all about ridiculing Wang Jian, the kind of sentiment that overflows from the words and lines is just like an old cow protecting its calf. Whether speaking positively or negatively, in the end, there is still a fear that if Wang Jian's bad habits are not changed, he will suffer greatly in the future.

  Wang Jian himself was a Chinese learner, and the context was so strong that although this letter made him feel embarrassed, it also softened his heart into a puddle of mush.

  But when Wang Jian saw the end of the letter, his eyes suddenly became stern, and his two bright eyes narrowed into two fine slits, scanning back and forth over the words on the paper.

  "As a master and father, the one thing I least want is for my disciples and descendants to take revenge on the deceased. Old Master knows that you young ones must repay kindness and grievances, but I'm reminding you here, act according to your abilities. You are the last sprout of the old Wang family, and all my skills are counting on you to pass down, if you dare not measure your strength, don't blame me for not being able to close my eyes in death."

  "Bang!" With a crisp sound, Wang Jian slapped the letter onto the table, and his eyes burst forth with an untamed wildness, shouting loudly at Old Master's portrait: "What are you talking about! Do you think I'm stupid? Anyway, that's what I have to say. Old man, don't blame me for not listening to you, who knows what kind of person you are, but one thing is certain, you're rich and powerful, but what about you? You've spent your whole life suffering and enduring hardships, suppressing yourself, which part of that is like a real man?! Alright, I've said all I need to say. This time I came here, was to bid farewell to you, in this small pond, it's hard for me to stir up big waves!"

  After finishing, he casually picked up the small booklet that fell out with the letter and took a look. On it was written in bold font: "Condensing Spirit". Wang Jian slapped his forehead, this thing he knew, when he was young, the medicinal liquid that made his scalp iron-like was concocted according to this formula. The old man had always refused to let him see it, saying something like "A doctor with an unrighteous heart will ultimately harm others and himself". Probably afraid that Wang Jian would concoct some strange poison to harm people. Now if he still didn't give it to him, he was likely to rot in the box forever.

  However, Wang Jian has always been arrogant, and his arrogance has long since entered his bones. Moreover, his arrogance is different from that of most people. Some people are arrogant because they have power behind them or because they have the ability themselves. But Wang Jian's arrogance lies in that unyielding spirit of his, he can endure but not swallow, he would rather be a hero for three minutes than a coward for a lifetime.

  After finishing, he resumed that calm and peaceful appearance, looking at the old wooden portrait: "Old man, I'll take you away. Little San'er brought you into the city to see the world."

  He didn't even finish the tea, turned around and put Lao Mu's memorial tablet and photo into that empty canvas bag, then pushed the door to leave.

  The footsteps faded into the distance, and an eerie silence returned to the house. The stove in the kitchen gradually went out due to lack of fuel, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke.

  He walked to the village entrance, picked up the bicycle that was still lying on the ground, slightly straightened the handlebars, turned around and took a look at this picturesque village, a faint smile appeared on his face, then he straddled the brakeless bike and sped northward, never looking back again.

  Not long after he left, the old village chief came to the village entrance with his hands behind his back, gazing far away at Wang Jian's already tiny figure, and let out a long sigh. He turned around and said to his own useless son: "Give... Ah Ying's job... to someone else, prepare to send... her to school."

  "But Dad... we already agreed, 2,000 a month! I've been supporting you for a whole year now." Ah Jing's dad looked very unwilling: "You're a girl, what's the point of going to school?"

  "Who would have thought, as soon as he finished speaking, the old village chief slapped him with a loud slap: "You... you... don't want to live anymore? Little tyrant comes back again, and you're done for."

  "Father, where's the money coming from? Her brother is also turning eighteen soon, and he needs to get married too."

  "Take it." The old village chief let out a cold snort and handed over the plastic bag containing 30,000 yuan to Ah Ying's father: "You... you don't want... to lose your life, just spend... spend it."

  As soon as he saw the money and looked at Wang San's back, Ah Ying's father immediately understood where the money came from. When he took it, his liver trembled with fear. If someone else had given him this money, he would have taken it to build a tiled house for his son's wedding. But Wang San was a man who could say and do things, and he had done many ruthless things before. He didn't dare use the money Wang San gave him for Ah Ying's education for other purposes...

  Just thinking about it makes me break out in a cold sweat.

  Here is the translation:

  On this side, with a sudden burst of speed, San Ye had already ridden a long distance on his old bicycle. Except for the silent bell, everything else was clattering and rattling. This broken bike somehow allowed San Ye to ride up 45 miles on the rugged mountain road, which, if put on a normal bike, would be considered incredibly fast. Moreover, Wang San Ye seemed dissatisfied, pedaling his small broken bike with all his might.

  The little broken car was still a little broken car. This car, which Wang San Ye had originally taken the train to the provincial city and spent 20 yuan at a second-hand market to buy in order to save on bus fare, finally collapsed due to exhaustion near the county town.

  At the age of two hundred and fourteen kilometers...

  It was already past one in the afternoon when Wang San Ye came out of the village, and after several hours of long-distance running, plus the rural sky itself got dark early. So when Wang San Ye's bicycle broke down on the side of the road, the sky had already turned dark.

  Looking at the distant county town with its bright lights, he smacked his lips a few times, took out the leather wallet he had picked up while collecting scrap, and poured out the last 25 cents from it. He gritted his teeth, "This is killing me, this little money... Tomorrow I'll probably have to eat shit." However, Wang San thought to himself without complaining, whistling as he got up on his broken bicycle, patted the saddle, and muttered: "Brother, although we just met today, our feelings are deep. Sorry to trouble you for a meal, but during Qingming Festival and Winter Solstice, I'll burn incense for you."

  After finishing speaking, he pushed his broken bicycle little by little towards the bustling county town.

  The old saying goes: looking at the mountain and running to death. The light that was clearly in front of him made Wang Jian walk for nearly half an hour, and he was already hungry. After this ordeal, he was so hungry that he almost vomited acid water. He was a big boy, and on the way, he didn't even have time to eat because of his haste. It wasn't until now, when his legs were shaking with hunger, that he suddenly remembered that since getting off the train in the provincial city at 3 or 4 am, he had only eaten a package of the cheapest instant noodles and drunk cold water, using the instant noodles as compressed biscuits to fill him up for the whole day.

  Wang Jian pushed his bicycle while walking and laughing, also laughing at himself for being down on his luck and having no heart or lungs. But he didn't have a sorrowful mood to speak of, instead, because he had walked into a place with lights, his mood became even better.

  "Alas, boss. Here's twenty bucks for the mantou." Wang Jian finally made it to a mobile steamed bun stall and looked at the large white steamed buns covered with thick cloth emitting hot air, urging repeatedly: "Hurry up, hurry up."

  The old man selling steamed buns was not flustered, slowly putting the steamed buns in a big red plastic bag for Wang Jian. While working, he chatted with Wang Jian: "You're not from around here, right? I've been selling steamed buns at the town entrance for 20 years and have never seen you before. Are you from outside? Looking for work? If you want to find work, go to that night market over there. In the past few days, several construction teams have come to the city looking for young and strong laborers."

  Wang Jian's mouth twitched, and he thought to himself: "How can this steamed bun seller sell like a high-ranking official? If you have some extraordinary martial arts skills, just pass them on to me quickly. My bones are absolutely exceptional."

  But as he thought about it, his eyes suddenly turned: "Uncle, where is that construction team going?"

  The old man selling mantou coughed twice: "Wherever you go, it's all about seeing the world. Young people should go out and make a name for themselves. It's not uncommon for young people to go out and make a fortune for a few years, and when they return home, they'll bring back a wife and build a big tile house."

  Wang Jian responded with a "oh" and handed over the money, took the steamed bun and thanked him, then pushed his broken cart slowly towards the night market as told by the steamed bun uncle.

  The county town is quite small and there are no entertainment venues. The most prosperous main street has only car washes and small restaurants on both sides. The promotional posters of the restaurants can almost fill up a Manchu Han Imperial Feast. Along the way, Wang Jian found only one entertainment venue, a run-down internet cafe with a sign that was half rotten. From time to time, several young people who looked like high school students walked out of it.

  This place, Wang Jian was too familiar with. At the beginning, he was in this county to read high school, that selling buns old man, Wang Jian was familiar with, but these four years, Wang Jian became darker and more robust, the old man's memory is estimated not good, so for a while did not recognize him.

  Looking at the county town that had hardly changed a bit from when he left that year, Wang Jian whistled and spat out a mouthful of steamed bun crumbs.

  Suddenly, Wang Jian's eyes darted to a group of young men under the internet cafe, these guys were dressed in a very typical non-mainstream style of the urban-rural fringe area, their hair was either messy and unkempt or dyed red, green, blue, or yellow, some even had a head full of oily black hair that looked like it hadn't been washed for ages, their faces almost had "hooligan" written all over them, each one with a cigarette dangling from their lips, squatting, standing or leaning against something, almost everyone holding a four-yuan soft white sand cigarette, thinking they looked handsome and extraordinary.

  He saw this, his eyes suddenly shone brightly, he adjusted his clothes, and pushed his broken bicycle slowly towards the group of people who were doing something.

  "What are you kids doing here?"

  He walked up with a smile and greeted the group in a very fake voice, completely ignoring the strange looks from the young men.

  Those little rascals also seemed to be startled by Wang Jian's sudden attack, looking at me and I looked at you, for a long time without making a sound.

  But Wang Jian only discovered upon closer contact that most of these people were no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, with the youngest estimated to be under sixteen; two of them were still wearing their high school's distinctive uniform pants.

  "Get lost."

  The boy who looked like a leader stood up and sized Wang Jian up and down, then spat on the ground with contempt: "Don't stir up trouble for no reason."

  Wang Jian let out a loud "Hey!", propped up the bicycle's stand, walked to the center of this group of people, cleared his throat and said: "Who wants this bike? Fifty bucks takes it."

  "Are you crazy? Get out!"

  The one who led the way scolded Wang Jian, and then the children behind him also started to curse and show their ferocity, as if Wang Jian didn't leave, they would definitely take action and break his dog's leg.

  What about Wang Jian? He had made up his mind, this bicycle was sold today, they would have to buy it whether they wanted to or not, because if Wang Jian didn't get the fifty bucks, he would have to scrounge for food in the trash if he didn't want to starve this week.

  And for Wang Jian, forcing a deal with these people who don't look like good guys at first glance, that's what he calls having no psychological burden.

  "They're here! Big brother, they've come down!"

  Suddenly a little brother crawled out from the internet cafe, and rushed into this dark alley, panting and pointing outside: "They've come... they've come..."

  That head's face suddenly lit up, and he didn't take Wang Sanye, who was pretending to be a plant person next to him, seriously at all. He turned around and raised his foot, ready to leave. But Wang San couldn't let him go, grabbing his arm: "This car, we agreed on it, one hand over the money, one hand over the car."

  "Who the hell told you it's okay?! Let me go! Let go!"

  He was eager to rush out, but he couldn't get rid of San Ye's handcuff-like hands. In a hurry, he lowered his body and picked up a brick from the ground and smashed it down on San Ye's head.

  Third Master Wang didn't even raise his head, but with another hand, he lightly swung and directly hit the guy's wrist holding the brick. He let out a painful cry, loosened his grip, and the brick fell into Third Master Wang's hands. He took the brick, spun it in his hand, and gently tapped it on the young man's head twice: "Young man, don't be so violent."