One Third Remaining Chapter Forty: The Gang

Sometimes, shouting solves nothing, except leaving your throat dry and your tongue parched. After five minutes and seventeen seconds of hollering, the taxi driver outside the auto repair shed was left gasping, bent over with his hands braced on his thighs, his voice hoarse as he tried to appeal to emotion. “Old Song, we’ve known each other for years. If you’re in some kind of trouble, just tell me. It’s not like I’d turn my back on you and let you die out there…”

From within the shed, some faint sounds drifted out, and the taxi driver sensed an opening. He pressed on, “If you need those funds urgently, take them. But you have to return my taxi. My whole family relies on that car to eat. These days I haven’t even dared set foot home. If my wife finds out the car’s gone, she’ll skin me alive. We’ve been brothers for so many years—even if you’ve lost all scruples, you should at least leave me a way out…”

He paused deliberately, but when Old Song still didn’t emerge, the driver’s eyes reddened with anger. He snatched a stone from the ground, not too big or too small, and stormed into the workshop. “I’ve reasoned with you every way possible, and you’re still playing dead! What, you think I’m really too scared to act? If you’re heartless, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”

Just as the driver reached the doorway, he collided headlong with Blondie, who had finally managed to gnaw through the rope at the table leg and make his escape. Instinctively, the driver raised the stone, his brow furrowing. “Who the hell are you? Are you Old Song?”

Blondie quickly raised his hands to shield his head and stammered, “Bro, calm down, I’m just passing by…”

“Passing by?” The driver recalled the luxury coupe he’d seen parked by the roadside and eyed Blondie suspiciously. “That coupe—does it belong to you?”

Rubbing his hands together, Blondie nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, yes, no idea how the tire blew out. Seems the quality of that coupe isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—might as well have bought a van instead…”

“It’s not about the car’s quality,” the driver shook his head. “You just haven’t passed by here before. If you had, your tire would’ve burst long ago. It’s not the car’s fault; some roads are just bad.” He cleared his throat. “I saw your tire was already changed. Was it Old Song who did it for you? Is he hiding in there?”

Blondie wasn’t sure if the driver was talking about those two bungling thieves, so he pursed his lips and said, “The guy who changed my tire was a big, tall, fat fellow—not sure if that’s your Old Song… Oh, right, there was another guy in there, skinny as a monkey…”

The driver’s eyes lit up, his teeth clenched. “So, Old Song, you really are playing dirty with me!” He raised his foot, then set it down again, worrying that he might be outnumbered. His eyes darted cunningly as he asked Blondie, “Bro, was it just those two inside? Have you seen anyone dark-skinned, covered in grease, built about like me?”

Blondie shook his head, then suddenly remembered the two thieves’ conversation and that there might be another person in the storage room. He pointed to the back of the repair shed. “There’s someone locked in there—maybe that’s your Old Song…”

The taxi driver squinted at Blondie, then gave a fist-to-palm salute. “Thanks for the tip, brother. Looks like they fell out over splitting the loot. Good, I’ll go in and settle things with Old Song.”

Blondie waved his hand and laughed. “No need to thank me. I overheard a bit in there myself—this Old Song is a real piece of work. I can’t stand people who stab friends in the back. I’ve got something to do, so I’ll be on my way. Don’t let me hold you up on your quest for justice.”

“All right, all right, safe travels…” The driver stepped aside, but as Blondie passed, he suddenly swung the stone and struck Blondie on the back of the head.

The world spun for Blondie. His eyes widened; he turned his head in confusion to look at the driver, and then collapsed to the ground.

The driver sneered, “Did you really think I’m an idiot?” He spat on the ground. “Fixing cars is a skilled trade—not like eating or sleeping, something anyone can do. Even something as simple as changing a tire takes some experience. I’m an old hand—one look at your coupe and I could tell that tire was changed by a pro. And how the hell did you know there was someone still locked inside?”

He exhaled and his eyes gleamed. Tossing the stone aside, he stroked his chin and mused, “There’s only one truth: you’re in cahoots with those two. I bet you’re the ‘jewelry fence’ Old Song mentioned…” He clapped his hands. “I was worried about being outnumbered, but now it’s one-on-one—perfectly fair!”

Blondie lay on the ground, his mouth twitching. He watched the taxi driver march confidently into the shed. The roar of the coupe’s engine sounded in his ears. Resigned, he closed his eyes…

While the taxi driver was shouting, Hou San and Zhu Dachang had already slipped out the window of the repair shed and climbed into the luxury coupe. Hou San, gritting his teeth against the pain in his rear, gripped the steering wheel tightly and slammed on the accelerator. The car shot forward. The force of acceleration pulled at his wounds, splitting them open again—cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he hissed in pain.

Zhu Dachang, enormous as he was, looked like an adult squeezed into a child’s toy car as he wedged himself into the passenger seat. Hearing Hou San’s hissing breaths, he twisted awkwardly to peer at the bloodstain under Hou San, alarmed. “San-ge, why are you having your period too? Cuihua always told me only women get periods…”

“Idiot!” Hou San, his voice weak from pain, snapped, “My wound split open, you numbskull…”

Zhu Dachang mumbled a meek “oh,” then tilted his head. “San-ge, that Blondie we just nabbed, and now the taxi driver’s come—are they connected?”

“You’re finally using your brain,” Hou San’s eyes narrowed. “The taxi driver, Blondie, the car thieves, and that mechanic—they’re all in the same gang. The news reported on them: their operation is sophisticated, with upstream and downstream partners. Even though we’re tough, even if they all came at us together, they wouldn’t be our match. Plus, we’ve already caught two of them—if they send more, it’ll be like those old cartoons where each one comes to the rescue and gets caught. But we don’t know how many are in their gang. If this drags on and on, how are we supposed to get on with our big plans? That’s why we’re lying low—not because we’re afraid.”

Zhu Dachang sniffled as the cold wind made his nose run. “San-ge, I have another question…”

“Shut up!” Hou San snapped impatiently. “I don’t have time to argue with you. We have to find that taxi and get our stuff back.” His eyes were locked on the road ahead. “Luckily there’s no turn-off on this road, and with this coupe, catching up to a taxi is a piece of cake!”

Zhu Dachang glanced at the needle on the dashboard, started to say “San-ge,” but swallowed the words under Hou San’s icy glare. He clamped his mouth shut, gripped the seatbelt for dear life, and squeezed his eyes closed…