Chapter Ninety-Two: Different Paths, Same Destination (Second Update)

Most of the time, people drift off the course of their lives because they are forced into action before they are ready. Lin Chong, braving wind and snow to join Liangshan, was one such case; so were Hou San and Zhu Dachang, who went on a midnight raid of a villa to steal jewelry.

Hou San crouched on the ground, looked at the empty cigarette pack, picked a stub barely longer than a fingernail from a pile of butts, lit it again, and took a drag. Then he shut the battered old comic version of Water Margin and said with bloodshot eyes, “I’ve finally figured it out. The reason nothing ever goes our way is that we never plan anything. We do everything before we are ready. Unless luck falls into our laps, we can forget about success.”

Beside him, Zhu Dachang was crouching too, staring fixedly at a braised-meat stall across the street. He swallowed hard and said, “I don’t even like duck. A pound of salted duck and half of it is bone. Braised meat is more substantial.”

Hou San flung away the cigarette butt, which he had only managed a couple of puffs from before it burned down to nothing, and slapped the back of Zhu Dachang’s head. “I’m not talking to you about salted duck and braised meat. I’m talking about doing something big. Big things!”

“You clearly said duck,” Zhu Dachang said, rubbing the back of his head with an innocent look. “I don’t understand big things anyway. Brother San, just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

Hou San gave him a disappointed look, the kind one gives to hopeless iron that will not become steel, and sighed. “Tell me, if I weren’t around, how would you even survive? The thing on your neck is nothing but a lump of meat with no brain in it. Forget it. Let’s get a map first. Otherwise we’re blind and don’t even know where we are. Then we’ll find a more hidden place and think it over properly.”

Zhu Dachang pulled out his phone and waved it. “Brother San, no need to buy a map. It’s already in the phone. Convenient as can be.”

“Exactly. Very convenient. Even more convenient for the police to find us,” Hou San said sourly. “You think I don’t have map software on my phone? Use your head. When even the captain himself is trekking over mountains and through rivers to chase us, do you think he doesn’t have some high-tech trick up his sleeve? How do you think he caught up so fast? Phone tracking, that’s how. Remember this: from now on, without my permission, you are not allowed to open your phone casually. Understand?”

Zhu Dachang stared blankly at the phone and gave a soft “oh.” Then his eyes rolled, and he pointed across the street at a stationery shop. “That store should have a map. Brother San, your butt’s hurt, so don’t go running back and forth. Leave this small job to me.”

“At least you’re useful for something,” Hou San said, nodding. He fished a handful of loose change from his pocket and pressed it into Zhu Dachang’s hand. “Get a bigger one, so the markings will be clear. And buy a marker too. This should be more than enough.”

Zhu Dachang took the money, his face immediately breaking into a grin. He trotted toward the stationery shop. As he neared the door, he glanced at the braised-meat stall beside it, licked his lips, and reluctantly stepped inside. In no time at all, he came back out with a pen and a map. He did not head straight back to Hou San; instead, he pinched the remaining bills between his fingers and walked up to the braised-meat stall.

Pointing at a slab of braised pig’s head meat, he asked, “Boss, how much is this a pound?”

The stall owner, fanning away an unwelcome visitor that had landed on the meat, lazily lifted his eyes and looked Zhu Dachang over. His answer was short. “Thirty-eight a pound.”

“That expensive?” Zhu Dachang said, eyes widening. “Back in my village pork is only ten a pound.”

“A place is a place. The same shirt costs different prices at a mall and at a street stall. Besides, the pork you’re talking about is raw material. Mine is braised meat, made with a secret family recipe. Pork has a price, but skill is priceless. You get that?” The owner crossed one leg over the other and spoke at leisure. “Ah, why am I telling you all this? Buy it if you want. If not, then get lost.”

Zhu Dachang lowered his head and looked at the bills in his hand. After a moment of hesitation, his gaze hardened again. “I’ll buy it. But can we maybe discuss something first...”

The stall owner’s expression suddenly turned cold. “Small business. No credit.”

“I’m not asking for credit,” Zhu Dachang said, placing the remaining bills on the stall and speaking haltingly. “Could I just buy one liang? Since it’s thirty-eight a pound, I have four yuan here. You can keep the remaining twenty fen. Just cut me one liang of braised meat...”

“You messing with me on purpose?” the stall owner said coldly. “I’ve been in business this long and never once met anyone buying only one liang. If you don’t have money, move along. I can’t even be bothered to pick up the knife for one liang.”

“I really do want to buy it,” Zhu Dachang hurriedly explained. “I just have this much money on me... If you can’t be bothered, I can cut it myself. I guarantee one cut, no more and no less, exactly one liang. Back when our village handed out meat for New Year, I was the one in charge. I’ve got a steady hand.”

The stall owner sighed and pointed at the cleaver on the stall. “Forget it. New Year’s almost here, and you do look like you’ve had a rough time. Cut it yourself, then. But let me say this first: one cut only. If it goes over one liang, I’d rather eat it myself than sell it to you. If it’s short, you don’t get a second cut.”

“Deal!” Zhu Dachang grinned. He swiftly grabbed the cleaver, picked out a piece of pig’s head meat at random, brought the blade down, then lifted a tiny slice and placed it on the scale. Pointing at the numbers on the display, he laughed, “Look for yourself. Exactly one liang. Not a bit more, not a bit less.”

The stall owner gave the digital scale a sideways glance and waved him off impatiently. “Fine, fine. Now get going. Don’t keep me from doing real business.”

Zhu Dachang thanked him, picked up the small piece of braised meat with delight, and hurried back to Hou San. Crouching down beside him, he shook the meat in his hand with a proud grin. “Brother San, I used the leftover money to buy a bit of braised meat. Want to try some?”

Hou San rolled his eyes. “The moment you stick your backside up, I know what kind of shit you’re about to pull, so I gave you extra money on purpose. Next time you want to eat something, don’t make up all that nonsense. Just say so. Give me the map and the pen. That tiny scrap of meat isn’t even enough to wedge between my teeth. You eat it.”

Zhu Dachang handed over the map and pen. Licking his lips, he eagerly shoved the braised meat into his mouth and began chewing slowly with his eyes closed, looking completely content.

Hou San unfolded the map and glanced at it. His expression darkened little by little. He tapped Zhu Dachang on the shoulder and pointed at it. “What kind of map did you buy? Come on. Show me where Greenvine City is on this thing.”

Zhu Dachang tilted his head left and right, but no matter how he looked, he could not find the words Greenvine City anywhere. He said in confusion, “Huh? Why can’t I find it? That boss clearly told me this was the biggest map. Why are the words so tiny, like ants that got scorched and curled up...”

“Of course you can’t find it,” Hou San said, struggling to hold back his anger. He pointed to the four words at the very top. “This is a world map. Even if you can’t read, you ought to be able to count. I think you’ve been so blinded by that braised meat you didn’t hear a word I said. In my opinion, we might as well split up early and be done with it. I really can’t carry you, you useless teammate...”

Like a conjurer, Zhu Dachang pulled a braised pig trotter from his coat. “Brother San, I’m sorry. Don’t be angry. It’s bad for you... Actually, I wanted to save you a pig trotter. Last night at that fine bathhouse in the South of the River, I ate enough meat to burst. But you didn’t eat a thing, and your butt is injured. You’ve been running half the day without a sip of water. I was honestly worried you wouldn’t be able to hold out.”

Hou San looked at the braised pig trotter in Zhu Dachang’s hand. His nose stung faintly, and after a few sniffs he cleared his throat and looked up at the sky. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time. I’ll just go buy another map myself. Don’t do these unnecessary things again.”

Zhu Dachang’s face instantly brightened. He laughed. “I knew Brother San wouldn’t be so cruel as to abandon me. I promise I won’t make you angry again.”

Hou San stood and walked slowly toward the stationery shop. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, though his eyes remained deliberately fierce. “If you make such a stupid mistake again next time, roll yourself back to the village. I won’t show you any mercy. I’m here to do something big...”

Zhu Dachang hurried after him, grinning foolishly and nodding nonstop.

More than ten minutes later, Hou San led Zhu Dachang into a roadside restroom. They checked every stall one by one. After making sure no one else was inside, they went into the innermost stall. Hou San shut the door, pasted the map on the wall behind the toilet, and stood on either side of the toilet with Zhu Dachang. He took out the marker and, fully focused, stared at the map while writing and drawing on it from time to time.

Meanwhile, on the other side of that wall, in the innermost stall of the women’s restroom, there was an identical map on the wall. Zhang Yunxi stood before it, eyes half-lidded, holding an eyebrow pencil as she traced three routes from Greenvine City to City A. A thin, cold smile played at her lips as she murmured, “Different roads, same destination.”