Electronic Nezha

Chapter 44 The Rice Bowl Will Be Lost
Aunt Xu was tidying up the cardboard boxes, while Hao Hao chewed on a tangerine, a satisfied smile on his face, looking around.

A short, stout man in a security guard uniform strolled over with his hands behind his back. The scars on his face had scabbed over. It was Zhang Biao. He had obviously seen Aunt Xu and her son. At that moment, the scene from a few days ago was replayed. Old Wang and I stared at him.

Zhang Biao glanced at Aunt Xu, pretending not to see her, then said to Li Ping in a sly tone, "Busy, huh?"

Li Ping nodded indifferently.

Logically, he should have been able to leave now, but Zhang Biao didn't. We could all see that he still wanted to regain some face. After being hit by the durian, his dignity was completely destroyed, both physically and mentally. But it wouldn't be accurate to say that his image plummeted—he never had much of an image to speak of before. It was like hitting rock bottom and then digging another ditch.

Zhang Biao circled our two stalls a few times, then suddenly pointed to the boxes of various citrus fruits in front of our stall and said, "You're blocking the way!"

The market has regulations regarding fruit displayed outside, the bottom line being that it cannot occupy public areas. The common practice among vendors is to count bricks and place the fruit along which bricks they are placed. Our box was clearly behind the bricks.

Seeing that we remained unmoved, Zhang Biao walked up to the box, pinched the floor tile with his hand, and traced an extension line upwards. The corner of the box was slightly within the extension line he imagined.

"Look! Isn't this blocking the road?"

Old Wang kicked the box, causing one corner to disappear into the extended line.

"You'll be fined next time!" Zhang Biao shouted.

Old Wang wasn't angry. He smiled and said in the tone of a victor mocking a loser, "Doesn't your face hurt anymore?"

When the other stall owners saw that our "iron triangle" from the durian incident had gathered, they quickly moved from their stalls to us. Some grabbed handfuls of sunflower seeds, some brought small stools, and a few even brought their own mops, pretending to clean in front of our stall—Li Ping had thrown away the mop from our stall.

Zhang Biao glanced at our door with lingering fear, and seemed to secretly breathe a sigh of relief when he found there were no durians.

This shows his lack of imagination. In this season, frozen persimmons and frozen pears are more likely to outdo him!

Zhang Biao had become the center of attention, and he naturally understood that everyone was waiting to see him get beaten up. He suddenly said coldly, "Still here watching the show? You're like grasshoppers in autumn, you won't be able to jump around for many more days."

Everyone looked at him with smiles.

Seeing that no one cared about what he said, Zhang Biao jumped up and said, "You guys don't know yet, do you? A few days ago, the deputy mayor led a group of bosses from the south to inspect the cold storage. Those bosses want to build the city's largest fruit logistics center in the cold storage. You'll be starving when that happens!"

People were stunned for a moment, then burst into a frenzy.

"Bullshit!" The one who spoke was the owner of the stall in front of us. He was in his fifties and his surname was Sun. We all called him Old Sun. This guy was straightforward and righteous, and he was the opinion leader of the stalls in front of us.

Old Sun pointed at Zhang Biao's nose and cursed, "You lie without thinking! Where's the room in the cold storage? I'll give you 10 yuan, see if you can squeeze out a stall for me there!"

Zhang Biao sneered, "The spice market, they said it was going to be sluggish and needed to be reformed a couple of years ago, giving you two more years to breathe."

"Buzz—" The crowd erupted again.

The spice market is a large hall in the northwest corner of the cold storage. It mainly sells everyday spices and used to also sell dried fruit. However, all the dried fruit was moved out, and the spice market gradually declined. The profit margin for this product is not that high, and it has become a drag on the cold storage, which makes a fortune every day. Fortunately, it neither makes money nor loses money, so it just lingers on in this stagnant state.

Things are easily spread by hearsay, and since it concerns their livelihood, the merchants spread the word, and soon the whole market was in an uproar. Seeing that he had achieved his desired effect, Zhang Biao smugly strolled away to another place.

A large crowd had gathered around Lao Sun. Some were discussing the matter, some were red-faced with anger, and some suspected that Zhang Biao was just talking nonsense. It was a chaotic mess.

Old Sun waved his hand and said, "Everyone, don't panic. First, we need to find out the source of the information, and second, we need to go to the market management office to sound them out."

With a leader in mind, everyone said in unison, "That's right, we'll all listen to Brother Sun."

Old Sun said to me and Old Wang, "Fengzi, Zili, the three of us should go find the management office first."

It's easy to understand why Lao Sun came to me. Lao Liu's family has been making a living in this market for two generations, so there's no one who doesn't know me. As for Lao Wang, he just slapped Zhang Biao in the face with durians to establish his authority, so he's acting like a local tyrant.

We left the mess to Li Ping and went straight to the management office with Lao Sun. They said they would send three people, but it was actually a large group. The person in charge of the management office was quite frightened when he saw us coming in such a menacing manner, but after hearing about the matter, he claimed to know nothing.

I don't know, I haven't heard of it, and no document has been issued.

Old Sun, being a man of many experiences, slapped his forehead upon hearing the word "document" and said, "That's right, if something this big were to actually happen, the government would have to issue some kind of document to notify us first."

Someone immediately analyzed, "Even someone like Zhang Biao knows about this, so it's probably spread."

Old Sun glanced at his watch and said, "It's past 12 o'clock now. Here's what we'll do: everyone, go out and ask around if you have any connections or resources. Let's meet up at my place at 2:30 this afternoon."

The crowd readily agreed and scattered in all directions.

As we walked towards the stall, Old Wang nudged me and said, "Fengzi, is it reliable to ask Reporter Ma about this?" Even if he didn't say it, I had thought about asking Ma Chaoran, but we had only met once. Even if she knew something, would it be convenient for her to say it because of her status? But I couldn't care less about my livelihood, so I took out my phone and made a voice call request—I didn't have her number, only her WeChat.

Not long after, Ma Chaoran answered the phone and immediately said, "Old Liu, what's up? Speak." It gave the impression of an old friend.

Just as I was about to speak, I saw someone even more reliable—Liu Zhenhua, for some reason, was at the stall today, standing there chatting with Li Ping.

"It's nothing—" I blurted out.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Let's see if you've deleted me. I'll treat you to dinner sometime. Bye."

Old Wang was confused by my puzzling actions: "Why?"

I pointed my chin at Liu Zhenhua and said, "Don't let the child think his dad is about to lose his job."

Old Wang nodded.

Liu Zhenhua had his back to us. Old Wang quietly slipped behind him, suddenly wrapped his arms around Liu's neck, and used his knee to push Liu down in the lower back, lifting him into the air. Then, before Liu's bottom hit the ground, Old Wang caught him again. That's how physical education students greet each other...

"Uncle Wang," Liu Zhenhua greeted Old Wang with a sigh.

"Hey, what brings you here, kid?"

Liu Zhenhua looked at me and said, "After school, I went to the bookstore and bought a workbook. I just happened to pass by on my way back."

"Why did you buy this thing?" I asked.

Li Ping said speechlessly, "Old Liu, what are you talking about? What else should students buy if not practice questions?"

Liu Zhenhua said, "The teacher told us to buy it."

Old Wang, with his sharp eyes, asked, "Why did you buy two books?"

"I bought it for my deskmate."

Old Wang chuckled and said, "Isn't that the pretty young girl with short hair?"

Li Ping glanced at Lao Wang with a look of disgust.

I pulled Liu Zhenhua aside and told him what had happened that morning, then solemnly asked him, "Has our fruit market been ruined by fruit logistics?"

"In the timeline I know, there isn't one."

Just to be on the safe side, I said, "Can you tell me if what happened today is real or fake?" This is a serious matter, and if he has no other choice, he should still go to Ma Chaoran.

"Give me your phone."

I handed him my phone, and Liu Zhenhua took it, pressed a few buttons, and then handed it back to me, saying, "It's nothing."

"...How did you know?"

"Do you want to know the principle, or—"

"Uh, I won't go into the details of the principle, just tell me how it's calculated."

Liu Zhenhua said, word by word, "That's what big data says."

"Alright then." I said to Lao Wang and Li Ping, "Eat when you're supposed to eat, sleep when you're supposed to sleep. This is definitely not going to work out, I told you!"

　Wishing all students taking the college entrance examination the best of luck and hoping they perform beyond their usual level!

　　I'll just update once a week on weekends, I'm out of drafts.

　　that's it.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)