My Realistic Simulation Game

Chapter 10 Arrival in Moscow: A Powerful Torrent of History

Chen Jianhua perked up at the mention of this.

He put down the jar, and his eyes behind his glasses lit up: "Brother Qin, your stuff will definitely sell well! Last year, one of my classmates, who was also sent on a government-sponsored program, brought a few leather jackets from home with him."

"After arriving in Moscow, he asked around the dormitory building and sold it right away! Guess what? The money from the sale covered his food expenses for a year and he still had some left over!"

"There is a huge demand over there for our domestic light industrial products, especially clothing and shoes!"

Upon hearing this, Gangzi and Dabinzi's eyes lit up instantly!
A year's worth of food expenses! That's rubles!

The two couldn't help but glance at each other, both seeing excitement in each other's eyes.

Even Old Zhang paused in his smoking, his cloudy eyes gleaming even brighter.

"As for the location..." Chen Jianhua thought for a moment, "We students don't usually go to those markets, but my classmate who sells leather jackets mentioned it, I think it's in a place called... 'Cheka Market'?"

"He said it was a fairly large open-air market in Moscow, with a wide variety of goods and lots of people, which seemed like a good fit. That's where he found his buyer."

Cheka Market!

Qin Yuan silently recited the name in his heart, determined to remember it.

This is the very market where Old Zhang's nephew, the warehouse manager, works!

The information matches up!
"The Cheka market..." Qin Yuan nodded, then asked, "What about the guide? Or is it possible to ask one of your experienced classmates for help?"

"Or... are there any international students among you who are particularly good at Russian, quite familiar with the local area, and want to earn some extra money?"

"We're new here and completely clueless. We really need reliable people to help us make connections, act as translators, and run errands."

Upon hearing this, Chen Jianhua began to think about it seriously.

He glanced at Qin Yuan, then at Gangzi and Da Binzi who looked on expectantly, and at Old Zhang, who was silent but had a calm demeanor.

He sensed that although the group looked travel-worn, they had a tenacity and shrewdness in their eyes, unlike those who were purely speculating and trying their luck.

“Well… I’ll have to ask.” Chen Jianhua didn’t agree immediately. “My classmate who sells leather jackets is graduating and doing an internship this year, so he’s quite busy.”

"However, in our dormitory building, there are a few students who speak Russian very well, come from average families, and do some part-time jobs to supplement their living expenses."

"They definitely know the market better than us bookworms. Once we're settled in Moscow, I'll ask them if they'd be willing to help."

"However, whether it will work or not depends on them."

"That's great!" Qin Yuan smiled sincerely and extended his hand. "Then we'll have to trouble you, Brother Chen! Whether it works out or not, we'll remember this favor!"

"Once you've arrived in Moscow and settled in, we'll treat you to a meal! Thank you so much!"

"Brother Qin, you're too kind." Chen Jianhua smiled and shook hands with Qin Yuan.

The two have now truly become friends.

Along the way, Chen Jianhua gradually explained various aspects of Moscow to Qin Yuan through their conversations.

It also depicts the immense chaos that occurred throughout the Soviet Union starting in the late 1980s.

Qin Yuan knew some of these things, but he had never heard of others.

However, through Chen Jianhua's introduction, he finally gained a preliminary understanding of this unfamiliar snow-covered city.

Six days and six nights—it's long, yet short.

When the gray sky outside the window finally revealed a sliver of light, carrying the dust of industry, that belonged to the city.

A sense of exhaustion, a mixture of relief and renewed tension, swept over everyone in the carriage.

"Woo——!!!"

A long blast of the steam whistle shattered the morning silence, announcing the end of the journey.

Moscow-Yaroslavl Railway Station!

Like a weary beast returning to its nest, the train slowly glided under the enormous dome.

The platform instantly erupted into chaos, filled with a cacophony of voices!
Before the train doors were fully open, countless figures surged toward the exits of each carriage like a tidal wave.

There were burly local men, dressed in thick cotton-padded coats and leather hats, with dark, rough faces, pushing carts and loudly hawking matryoshka dolls, vodka, and rye bread. There were people holding simple paper signs with the words "hotel" and "taxi" written crookedly in Russian, their eyes eagerly searching for targets in the surging crowd.

There were also some men with shifty eyes, dressed relatively decently but exuding a slick air, weaving through the crowd, their eyes scanning every foreign face carrying large bags of luggage like hooks.

“Гостиница?Оченьдешево! (Hotel? Very cheap!)”

“Такси! Такси! Кудавам? (Taxi! Taxi! Where to?)”

“Поменяювалюту!Лучшийкурс! (Exchange money! Best exchange rate!)”

The sounds of greetings, solicitations, and even arguments in various languages ​​mingled together, creating a huge, dizzying wave of sound that rushed towards you.

Qin Yuan and his group, carrying heavy luggage, struggled to squeeze out of the carriage door and were immediately surrounded by the crowd.

Several men holding hotel signs immediately surrounded them, chattering and spitting as they spoke.

"Ignore them!"

Chen Jianhua squeezed next to Qin Yuan, using his body to try to keep the overly "enthusiastic" touts away, and said urgently in a low voice to Qin Yuan, "Brother Qin, nine out of ten of these people are scammers! The hotels are expensive and dirty, the taxis will take detours and rip you off, and the exchange rate for money is outrageously bad! Don't believe them!"

Qin Yuan nodded, his sharp eyes sweeping over the faces that had gathered around him, firmly remembering Chen Jianhua's warning.

He had never been to Moscow, but he knew how chaotic the train stations in Guangdong were in the 1990s.

At this point, things in Moscow will only get more chaotic.

He whispered to Da Binzi and Gangzi beside him, "Keep an eye on the luggage and stay close!"

Under Chen Jianhua's expert guidance, they finally managed to squeeze out after some twisting and turning.

Stepping out of the train station through that magnificent yet somewhat old-fashioned archway.

The gust of cold wind invigorated everyone.

What lies before us is Moscow in the early 1990s.

The massive Russian-style buildings stand like silent giants on both sides of the street, heavy and majestic, carrying a sense of historical oppression.

Old Volga and Lada cars drive on the wide roads, and occasionally you can see a few relatively new German imported cars.

Pedestrians hurried along, bundled up in thick winter clothes, their faces mostly bearing a weariness that was almost indifferent.

The newsstand on the street corner was covered with various posters and newspapers, with Russian headlines that Qin Yuan couldn't understand and unfamiliar faces of political figures.

The air was filled with car exhaust, coal smoke, and a unique smell that belonged to a frigid northern city.

Qin Yuan stood at the edge of the station square.

Looking up at the leaden sky and the silhouettes of those massive buildings in the distance, an indescribable complex emotion instantly gripped him.

This is Moscow.

This is the heart of the "Big Brother" that once made the entire Western world tremble and was looked up to by China for decades.

It is enormous and majestic, with a deep-seated, steely sense of order.

Just standing here, you can feel the lingering power of that once domineering aura.

However, the scenes described by Chen Jianhua along the way were not what they seemed.

Shops with shortages of supplies, long queues, the drawbacks of a rigid system, and the confusion and restlessness that permeated all levels of society all appeared before him.

That kind of awe for this behemoth, which we've been exposed to since childhood and seems to be ingrained in our bones.

Witnessing the decay and chaos of its internal structure firsthand at this moment brought an even deeper shock.

It's hard to imagine that such a giant, such a nation, would collapse in an instant.

Qin Yuan felt a complex mix of emotions, a powerful sense of absurdity intertwined with the weight of history.

This was actually a genuine feeling that a game brought him.

(End of this chapter)