Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

The outpatient hall was as cold as an icebox in the early morning.

Several dusty incandescent light bulbs flickered overhead, emitting a faint hum of electricity.

Zhao Shanhe strode down the terrazzo stairs and went straight to the information desk on the first floor.

The nurse on duty was wrapped in a military overcoat, dozing off on the table like a chick pecking at rice.

Zhao Shanhe didn't speak, but bent his rough index finger and tapped it lightly twice on the smooth glass tabletop.

The nurse was jolted awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked up. When she saw it was the same tall man who had borrowed the phone earlier, her brows furrowed instinctively. She was about to speak and shoo him away.

Zhao Shanhe didn't even bother to reach into his pocket; with a flick of his wrist, he revealed a brand-new five-cent banknote and two nationally valid grain coupons in his palm.

Two fingers pressed down on the ticket, and it was quietly pushed down the glass table to the nurse's hand.

The nurse swallowed back the reprimand that was on the tip of her tongue.

Without making a sound, she took the thick handover logbook, stamped it on the ticket, then stood up with practiced ease, picked up the half-empty aluminum thermos in the corner, turned and walked towards the water room at the other end of the corridor without even looking back.

Zhao Shanhe pulled over the black bakelite landline phone, picked up the heavy receiver and held it to his ear, his rough index finger digging into the dial pad.

"Swish—swish—"

The familiar dialing sounds were particularly jarring in the empty hall.

The moment the line was connected, there was only one ring in the receiver before someone grabbed him.

"Who?"

A crisp, clear Russian word came from the other end of the phone, spoken in a deep, rough voice.

Zhao Shanhe stared expressionlessly at the swirling night outside the glass doors of the hall, uttering three words: "Zhao Shanhe."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line.

Immediately afterwards, Ivanov's incredibly loud laughter boomed through the telephone line, and his original Russian instantly switched to Chinese with a heavy accent.

Zhao! My Chinese brother!

"Why are you calling me all of a sudden? How's your injury going? Are you in some kind of trouble? Just say the word, and I'll take care of it! I just managed to get my hands on a large batch of Soviet military-grade anti-inflammatory medicine. Oh, and that batch of authentic dried beef you asked me for arrived too—three huge sacks! I'm free tomorrow, so I'll drive it over to you myself!"

Before Zhao Shanhe could reply, the person on the other end of the phone lowered their voice and continued the conversation with great enthusiasm.

"Perfect timing! I also have a lucrative opportunity that I'd like to discuss with you in person tomorrow..."

"Ivan."

Zhao Shanhe interrupted the other party's polite conversation directly: "I need your help with something."

As soon as he finished speaking, the enthusiastic laughter coming from the receiver abruptly stopped.

The hall was eerily quiet.

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

When Ivanov spoke again, that loud and boisterous energy had completely vanished.

"Zhao, you haven't already gone back to the Red Star Machinery Factory, have you?"

Zhao Shanhe held the receiver and silently nodded at the empty outpatient hall in front of him.

He pushed open the cardboard box with his thumb, skillfully picked out a match with his index finger, pressed the red match head against the side of the box with his rough fingertip, and rubbed it hard.

"Sizzle—"

A ball of orange flame leaped up instantly, and a faint smell of sulfur filled the air.

Zhao Shanhe lowered his head and brought the firelight closer, lit the Daqianmen cigarette he had been holding in his mouth for a while, and took a deep drag.

The crisp crack of the match head igniting and the faint hissing sound of the flame burning with tobacco were clearly transmitted to the other end through the bakelite receiver.

Upon hearing this tacit agreement, a loud slamming sound came from the other end of the phone.

"Can't we leave?" Ivanov's Chinese pronunciation became very stiff.

"We can't leave."

Zhao Shanhe tilted his head back, slowly exhaled a thick white smoke, and flicked his wrist to extinguish the half-burnt matchstick.

He let the rising smoke blur the features of his gaunt face: "I have a brother who risked his life for me. He got into trouble here and is now locked up in jail. I need to catch someone so he can get out."

He casually tossed the half-extinguished matchstick into the spittoon at his feet.

He tapped the reception desk lightly with the fingers holding his cigarette, his eyes unfathomable: "I must save this person. Ivan, help me, consider it a favor I owe you."

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone.

All that could be heard was a faint hissing sound of electricity coming from the bakelite receiver.

It took a good seven or eight seconds before Ivanov spoke again.

"You're looking for Old Scar, right?"

Zhao Shanhe took a deep drag of his cigarette, his voice steady: "How did you know?"

"Of course I know!"

Ivanov snorted coldly, his tone revealing barely suppressed anger and irritation: "Just because this bastard killed Chen Jianguo's son, your underworld and legitimate circles are searching for him like madmen! They're setting up roadblocks and tightening controls everywhere, causing me to lose many of my men and all my goods. The losses are enormous. How could I not know?"

"Zhao, if this is the case, I advise you not to get involved."

Zhao Shanhe didn't reply, but just listened quietly with a cigarette between his fingers.

"This isn't a political struggle at all; it's a power struggle involving multiple levels!"

Ivanov's tone carried a hint of seasoned caution, his speech quickening unconsciously: "And the Red Star Machine Factory you're in right now is the eye of the storm! To those big shots up there, the lower-ups are just stepping stones to be pushed out and used as scapegoats. If you stick your hand in now, you won't even get a bone left; it's simply not worth it!"

In the empty outpatient hall, only the occasional soft popping sound from the overhead incandescent light bulbs could be heard.

"Zhao, you are my brother, Ivanov."

Ivanov sighed heavily: "If it were anyone else, they would have nothing to do with me, and I wouldn't utter a single word. Listen to me, leave this mess behind, and come back to work hard with me to build up our wealth."

He paused, his voice hushed over the phone line: "According to some information I've gathered, the state-owned enterprise reform over there will be fully underway in a few years. If you really want to excel, you should quietly save money. When the tide turns, just buy the Red Star Machinery Factory!"

"I'll take care of all the equipment supply, permits, and other paperwork for you. If you want to become the factory manager then, or if you want to deal with those people who are currently putting you down, I'll be there for you. There's really no need to wade into troubled waters at this critical juncture!"

Zhao Shanhe remained silent, slowly exhaling the last breath of smoke from his lungs.

He raised his hand, his thumb and rough forefinger pinching the scalding hot cigarette butt, forcefully extinguishing the dark red spark between his fingertips.

"Tsk."

The faint sound of flesh burning flashed through the deathly silent hall.

Zhao Shanhe didn't even blink. He gripped the black bakelite receiver tightly, and the veins on the back of his hand instantly bulged out.

"Ivan, I don't understand anything about state-owned enterprise reform, and I'm not interested in buying a factory and becoming a boss."

Zhao Shanhe finally spoke, his voice not loud, but like a military dagger thrust straight into an ice hole, revealing a cold, unyielding determination that wouldn't turn back even if it meant breaking through a wall: "My brother went in for me, I have to save him!"