Chapter 20: An Unexpected Visitor

Jiang Fan had already sensed from the weight behind the crew cut youth’s kick that this was someone with some skill. With four more eager young men itching for a fight behind him, it was best to deal with the toughest first to avoid further complications. Wasting no time, Jiang Fan pressed his knee into the youth’s chest and rained heavy blows upon his face with both fists.

In an instant, the sides of the youth’s face swelled grotesquely; his eyes were reduced to narrow slits, and his lips puffed up like two fat sausages. Only when the youth was completely incapacitated did Jiang Fan stand up. The four young men, terrified by Jiang Fan’s ruthless display, scattered at once. The braid-wearing youth and the one with the cue, who were still sprawled on the ground, scrambled to their feet and fled as well.

Blending in with the crowd of onlookers was one of the gambling stall managers. Impressed by Jiang Fan’s skills, he approached with a thumbs up. “Brother, my name is Dong, from Chaozhou. I help my cousin manage the roulette stall up ahead. May I have your name?” he said.

“Jiang Fan.” Looking at Dong, whose face bore a natural fierceness and whose arms were tattooed with twin dragons, Jiang Fan felt no affinity, nor did he wish to linger among such people. He offered only his name, nothing more.

Meanwhile, the crew cut youth, who had been lying on the ground, seized the moment while Jiang Fan and Dong were talking to slip away. He staggered off, battered and humiliated.

As the crowd dispersed, Dong noticed Jiang Fan’s disinclination for small talk and, assuming he was in a foul mood after the fight, made no further effort to ingratiate himself, returning quietly to his gambling stall.

Jiang Fan was about to fetch a broom from the shop to sweep up the shards of liquor bottle left at the entrance when Aunt Qiu intercepted him. “Xiao Jiang, you and your uncle go inside for a chat. Leave this to me,” she insisted.

Aunt Qiu was not a materialistic woman. She endured long, hard nights to make a little money and was often bullied or extorted, which always left her feeling bitter. Seeing Dong—whom all the nearby shopkeepers deeply feared—approach Jiang Fan with such friendliness, she began to think that if her husband could forge a closer relationship with Jiang Fan, perhaps they would no longer have to pay protection money in the future.

Yet Jiang Fan insisted on cleaning up himself. Uncle Qiu did not stop him; instead, he joked, “Xiao Jiang, I never expected you to be hiding such skills!”

“Not at all, Uncle Qiu. Please don’t make fun of me.”

After tidying up, Aunt Qiu repeatedly urged Jiang Fan to stay for dinner, saying she would cook two northeastern dishes so he and Uncle Qiu could share a drink.

Jiang Fan, understanding her intentions, spoke plainly to reassure her. “Aunt Qiu, you and Uncle Qiu are elders I deeply respect. There’s no need for formality between us. Even if I find work, I’ll still come by the shop often. This place feels like home to me.”

Hearing this, both Aunt Qiu and Uncle Qiu said no more.

Because he needed to rise early to look for work the next day, Jiang Fan drank a cup of tea at the shop and returned to his rented room to sleep.

The next morning, just past six, Jiang Fan awoke. Lifting his blanket, he noticed the front of his underwear was damp. Laughing at himself, he muttered, “So Confucius says, ‘What occupies your mind by day, you dream of by night.’ But I’ve never thought of her, so why do I dream of her every night—such embarrassing dreams, too? Perhaps Confucius was a fraud after all.”

Last night, he had once again dreamt of Wang Wenyu, and the dream was filled with scenes of passion.

He got up, changed his underwear, and put on the T-shirt and jeans that Hao Meng had bought him the day before. Clothes make the man, they say, and in this outfit, Jiang Fan looked much more energetic and youthful, the country awkwardness gone—except for the pair of Liberation shoes on his feet, which clashed oddly with his modern clothes.

Hao Meng, who cared deeply about Jiang Fan, had noticed this issue yesterday, but with not enough money in her pocket for a new pair of shoes, and Jiang Fan refusing to spend any of his own ninety-some yuan, she planned to buy him a pair in secret next time.

After a simple wash, Jiang Fan spent the day wandering the neighborhoods around Baisha, looking for work. Along the way, he was approached by a job broker who promised a factory placement for a seven hundred yuan fee. With only a few dozen yuan in his pocket, Jiang Fan, unwilling to owe Hao Meng another favor, refused outright.

As evening approached, not wanting to impose on Uncle Qiu and his wife for another free meal, Jiang Fan bought a bowl of rice noodles at a food stall before returning to the village, intending to help out at the dumpling shop in whatever way he could.

He had barely reached the shop when Aunt Qiu, standing outside, spotted him.

She hurried over, beaming. “Xiao Jiang, a boss named Chen came looking for you around noon. I said you’d probably be back in the afternoon, and he just came by again. He’s waiting for you in the shop—look, that’s his car over there. He must be loaded! Maybe you can ask him about a job.” She pointed to a Crown sedan parked beside the highway. Knowing how much easier it would be to find work with a wealthy contact, she was genuinely happy for Jiang Fan.

Jiang Fan entered the shop and saw a man in his fifties, under one meter sixty-five, with a slicked-back hairstyle and the bulk of a Buddha. He lounged with a cigarette in his mouth and one leg crossed over the other, speaking to a man in a security uniform whose armband bore the word “Captain.”

“Are you looking for me?” Jiang Fan asked, puzzled by the two strangers.

At the sight of Jiang Fan, Chen Anlong froze for a moment, cursing Hao Meng privately: “That woman really didn’t tell the truth.”

“Hello. I’m Chen Anlong, chairman and general manager of Dafu Shoe Factory,” the man introduced himself, hoping to entice Jiang Fan with his title, having witnessed his courage and fighting prowess the night before.

Chen Anlong had tracked Jiang Fan down because, the previous night, Jiang Fan had beaten up his driver and bodyguard—the crew cut youth.

The youth’s name was Zhu Bing. He had trained in martial arts at home for several years and was indeed skilled. He’d worked as a security guard at Dafu for a year, and, eager to escape an ordinary laborer’s life, often showed off in places where Chen Anlong might see him. Eventually, he was noticed, made a bodyguard, and even sent to learn to drive.

A few days ago, when Chen Anlong became interested in Jiang Fan, Zhu Bing, fearing for his own hard-won position, boasted that Jiang Fan wouldn’t last ten moves against him.

Dafu was a well-known factory in the area. As the boss’s right-hand man, Zhu Bing earned a good salary and attracted several pretty female workers, as well as some small-time thugs hoping to curry favor and make extra money through him.

Usually, Zhu Bing ate and slept at the factory, ready to be summoned by Chen Anlong, but for the sake of his romantic pursuits, he’d also rented a place in the village.

After a drinking party the previous night, Chen Anlong went off with Zhan Haocheng, leaving Zhu Bing to his own devices. On his way back to his rented room, he happened to pass the dumpling shop and saw Jiang Fan.

Thinking Jiang Fan worked at the shop, and fearing Chen Anlong would soon discover him so close to the factory, Zhu Bing had some local toughs harass the dumpling shop, hoping the boss would fire Jiang Fan.

After suffering a beating himself, Zhu Bing was still considering how to explain things to Chen Anlong and planned to take a few days off to recover and then resume his post as bodyguard.

Since becoming Chen Anlong’s aide, Zhu Bing had lorded it over the factory, treating even former colleagues with disdain. Few employees liked him; behind his back, they called him “the lackey.”

But before he could come up with a plan, some factory workers who’d stopped by the dumpling shop for a late meal witnessed his defeat at Jiang Fan’s hands and wasted no time gossiping about it back at the factory. Eager to please their boss, some employees quickly reported the incident to Chen Anlong.

Hearing that his bodyguard had been beaten senseless by a dumpling shop worker, Chen Anlong was deeply curious. He came to the shop at noon, only to learn that Jiang Fan wasn’t an employee but was looking for work. So, without waiting for the end of the workday, Chen Anlong returned to the shop later in the afternoon.