Chapter 12: Lodging for the Night in Baisha Village

Baisha Village bordered Baihao Village in Houjie Town, with subdivisions numbered 1, 2, 3, and 4. Baisha No. 1 Village remained undeveloped, lying several hundred meters from the bustling commercial street. Most of the local residents who had prospered early had already moved away from their ancestral houses, partitioning their old homes into single rooms to rent out.

These rudimentary accommodations proved convenient for many wandering souls without a permanent home, as well as for transient couples and those seeking a brief union. The rent, ranging from a few dozen yuan per month, attracted only a handful willing to spend.

Beyond the rent, the greatest concern was the temporary residence permit. For those without a fixed address, aside from work, this was their most pressing anxiety.

From Shegang, following the 107 National Highway along the Dongguan-Tai section, Baisha was just three or four kilometers away—a minibus fare cost one yuan.

Having granted herself a rare holiday for her mood, Hao Meng relished the time spent with Jiang Fan. To extend these moments together, she, who usually avoided walking at night, linked her arm through Jiang Fan’s and walked onward.

There was a stretch of road carved out of a small mountain along this route, flanked by nothing but hillsides and devoid of any buildings.

By day, pedestrians streamed along, but at night, the place grew quiet.

Such spots were favorites for robbers to lie in wait. Hao Meng clung tightly to Jiang Fan’s arm, casting anxious glances around.

Sensing her nervousness, Jiang Fan asked with concern, “What’s wrong?”

“I heard that places with few passersby are more likely to encounter robbers. I’m a bit scared.”

She had already experienced a robbery once; though Jiang Fan had resolved the crisis, as a young woman, Hao Meng still feared another such event.

Seeing her trembling, Jiang Fan wrapped his arm around her waist, comforting her, “With me here, you have nothing to fear.”

Trust bestowed boundless strength. Jiang Fan’s reassurance gave Hao Meng courage, her trembling ceased, and she leaned contentedly on his shoulder. “You’re right. Two days in Dongguan and you’ve already fought twice, always outnumbered yet victorious. With you as my bodyguard, what do I have to worry about?”

“This skill and robust physique, I owe to the old man. Otherwise, I might still be the scrawny boy I once was.”

At this, Jiang Fan thought of Li the Wine Jug.

On the train, it was always Hao Meng who generously lent a hand. In Dongguan, she helped him again and again. Jiang Fan felt a vague, indescribable emotion toward her, something that seemed to transcend mere friendship, yet fell short of romance.

He couldn’t tell if it was gratitude, but one thing was clear: in their brief time together, he had come to trust Hao Meng completely.

He avoided discussing school matters, but shared his family background with the first woman he had met on his journey.

Jiang Fan came from a rural single-parent household in a county under Chengdu. There were three siblings: two sisters, one three years older, the other just over a year his senior. His mother was a farmer, his father a railway worker who died in service when the Chengdu-Kunming Railway was nearing completion.

When his father passed away, Jiang Fan was still an infant. With the family pillar gone, his mother, a rural woman, raised three young children—life was unimaginably hard.

She never remarried, but bravely brought up her children. They often went without food from one meal to the next; supporting three children through school was impossible. Owing to rural preference for sons over daughters, only Jiang Bin, the only boy, attended school.

Knowing how rare his opportunity was, Jiang Bin studied diligently, working on weekends in the village fields to earn extra points and supplement the family income.

During the college entrance exams, Jiang Bin topped the county and was admitted to a prestigious university in Beijing.

Arriving in Beijing, with Li the Wine Jug’s help, the two worked together, hauling coal balls—he could finally eat his fill. Coupled with martial arts training, he gained a physique that, though seemingly lean, was actually remarkably strong.

After entering university, he no longer asked his family for living expenses, but tuition still came from home.

Throughout more than a decade of schooling, it was his mother and two sisters who supported his studies. He was the hope of the entire family. A single accident shattered his dreams and those of his family.

At this point, tears rolled down Jiang Fan’s cheeks.

Hao Meng wanted to know what the accident was, but seeing his sorrow and the tears, she sensitively curbed her curiosity.

After pouring out his heart, Jiang Fan felt some relief, and before long his mood lightened and his heavy expression faded.

From Shegang Village to Baisha No. 1 Village, they first passed through Baisha’s commercial street.

This so-called commercial street was actually a newly built, wide concrete road connecting the village committee to the 107 National Highway. Factory buildings lined both sides, with shops occupying the ground-floor street fronts.

It was the widest avenue in Baisha, surrounded by factories, slowly becoming the most prosperous district.

Over a kilometer long, the commercial street gathered dance halls, cinemas, video parlors, and other entertainment venues; naturally, shops and street vendors catering to daily needs abounded.

Smelling the aroma wafting from the street, Jiang Fan’s stomach began to rumble with hunger.

Hao Meng heard the sound and asked in confusion, “Did you not eat?”

Jiang Fan scratched his head awkwardly, “I forgot.”

He had been released from the Shangsha security team near noon and arranged to meet Zhu Maoju at one o’clock. Afraid of missing the appointment, he hadn’t eaten, and after Zhu Maoju left, trouble with Brother Qiu arose.

Escaping Shangsha, Jiang Fan was famished, with only five yuan left in his pocket and no clear destination. He thought to save on meals—he hadn’t eaten all day.

Hao Meng had observed that when Jiang Fan felt shy or embarrassed, he habitually scratched his head. She reproached him gently, “You wouldn’t even eat, and didn’t think to call me?”

“You said not to call unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“If sleeping in a cemetery isn’t necessary, what is?”

“I still have money, but I’m saving it for emergencies, not daring to spend.”

“Money? On the train, you only had a single large bill. You gave away the fifty yuan I gave you, played Good Samaritan. Yesterday you took the bus to Chang’an, and with a day’s expenses, how much could you have left? Come on, let’s get something to eat first.”

Learning that Jiang Fan was still putting on a brave face, Hao Meng exposed the truth about his finances.

She wanted to take him to a restaurant for a good meal, but Jiang Fan insisted that street food would suffice.

For one yuan, he got a large plate of fried rice noodles, eating two portions and finally managing to fill his stomach.

Hao Meng pressed the 98 yuan in change from the vendor, along with a hundred yuan note, into Jiang Fan’s hand. “I don’t ask for fancy meals, but you must eat three times a day. Otherwise, how can you be my bodyguard?”

Seeing so much money, Jiang Fan refused to accept it, and they argued for quite a while. Seeing his resolute refusal, Hao Meng compromised by stuffing the 98 yuan in change back into his hand, pouting, “If you still won’t take it, I’ll be angry.”

Hao Meng’s so-called cousin Wang Yong was actually Wang Fang’s own brother. Their hometowns were in the same village, though separated by several degrees of kinship—counted out, they were cousins.

Wang Yong, already in his thirties, was too old for any factory to hire. He borrowed his cousin Wang Kai’s ID, and Wang Fang, taking advantage of her night with Chen Anlong, persuaded him to recommend her brother to Dafeng Shoe Factory as a machine repairman.