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

"Boom!"

Two Jiefang trucks, fully loaded with "frozen pork," disappeared into the snowy night, billowing a pungent cloud of black smoke.

As Gao Dapao from the Armed Forces Department led his team away, the grim and ruthless atmosphere in the Public Security Bureau compound finally began to dissipate.

Old Zhou and several police officers were digging a well to flush the ground.

The freshly drawn well water, steaming hot, was splashed onto the ground, which was covered with ice shards and bloodstains. With a "whoosh," a cloud of white mist rose up, washing away the last traces left by last night's fierce battle.

Xiao Liu sat on the steps, his injured leg wrapped in thick gauze, and his face still had mud splatters on it.

Seeing Zhao Shanhe approaching, the kid instinctively tried to stand up and salute, but this aggravated his wound, causing him to wince in pain. However, his eyes were bright, and he grinned foolishly.

"Sit down."

Zhao Shanhe patted Xiao Liu's shoulder and casually tossed the unopened package of "Da Qianmen" cigarettes that Gao Jianguo had just given him into his arms.

"Keep it for later."

Xiao Liu caught the cigarette, beaming with joy, even happier than if he had received an award.

Zhang Guodong stood in the corridor, holding a chipped enamel mug, blowing on the steaming tea.

Upon seeing Zhao Shanhe, he didn't say anything polite, but simply moved aside, giving up half of his sheltered spot.

"Want a sip?"

Zhang Guodong handed over the teacup.

Zhao Shanhe didn't mind and took a big gulp. The scalding hot tea rolled down his throat and into his stomach, dispelling the chill from his body.

"call……"

Zhao Shanhe exhaled a puff of white breath and handed the teacup back.

The two men leaned against the wall side by side, watching Lao Zhou and the others work, neither of them saying a word.

After a while, Zhang Guodong took out a cigarette from his pocket, handed it to Zhao Shanhe, and lit one for himself.

A flash of light, followed by billowing smoke.

"Alright."

Zhang Guodong took a drag of his cigarette, looked up at the sky, and his voice carried an unprecedented sense of relaxation and exhaustion:

"It's dawn."

"Go back and get a good night's sleep. The mess I'm left to clean up is my job."

There were no grand pronouncements, nor any promises.

That one sentence, "That's my job," is more powerful than anything else.

Zhao Shanhe smiled, patted Zhang Guodong on the shoulder, and stubbed out his cigarette in the snow.

"I'm gone."

"Slower."

Those two simple words represent the unspoken understanding that comes from a life-or-death bond.

Zhao Shanhe wrapped his sheepskin coat tighter and turned to walk into the morning mist.

……

When we returned to the section of road with the ditch where the accident had occurred, it was already broad daylight.

The Jiefang truck that got stuck in the ditch was still lying there like a stubborn old ox, the cargo in the truck bed covered with a thick tarpaulin and a layer of snow.

Dazhuang, along with a dozen militiamen, was warming themselves by a bonfire by the roadside.

The men's eyebrows and beards were covered in frost, and they were stamping their feet from the cold, while still clutching their guns tightly in their hands.

"elder brother!"

Upon seeing Zhao Shanhe return, Dazhuang called out in a deep voice and quickly came to greet him.

"Are you alright?" Zhao Shanhe asked.

"It's alright, not even a mouse dared to come near."

Da Zhuang patted his chest, looking honest and simple:

"I just yelled at a few tractors who wanted to watch the show and drove them away. If you can't control the scene, then nobody can move."

Zhao Shanhe nodded. At times like these, his brothers were the only ones he could truly rely on.

"Okay, everyone has worked hard."

"Pack up, and we'll find a tractor to pull the truck out in a bit, so as not to delay the delivery."

"Don't worry, bro."

Just then.

On the distant highway, two dim headlights suddenly pierced the morning mist, and accompanied by the roar of an engine, a mud-covered jeep rushed over like a madman.

"squeak--!!"

With a sudden screech of brakes, the jeep came to a stop sideways on the side of the road, splashing mud everywhere.

As soon as the car door was opened, a blast of cold air mixed with the smell of smoke rushed out.

Erga jumped out of the driver's seat.

This kid clearly stayed up all night; his eyes were bloodshot, his lips were cracked in several places, and his hands were purple from the cold as he desperately breathed on them to warm them.

"Brother! Are you alright?"

When Ergazi saw Zhao Shanhe, a hint of life finally appeared on his tired face:

"I just arrived in the county town and heard that the armed forces department was mobilized last night? Do these bastards have a death wish?"

"I wish I hadn't gone to the city to deliver that urgent package last night! Damn it, those bastards took advantage of the situation!"

Erga Zi looked annoyed. Last night, Zhao Shanhe had asked him to send a batch of urgent samples to the city overnight, which meant he missed this big battle.

"Your delivery is the important thing; this is a minor matter."

Zhao Shanhe patted Ergazi on the shoulder: "Go warm yourself by the fire."

"Brother, I'm not cold."

Erga Zi didn't move. Instead, his expression became strange. He lowered his voice, and his bloodshot eyes revealed a sense of anxiety.

"And...something really happened."

"I ran into Boss Jin in the city. He insisted on coming back with me, saying that the sky had fallen."

The voice just fell.

The passenger door of the Jeep opened.

Jin Wanfu, who had been huddled inside the car, emerged, wrapped in his expensive woolen coat.

At this moment, although Jin Wanfu's hair was a bit messy and his complexion was a bit poor, he still retained the air of a Hong Kong businessman.

But at this moment, his face, which usually always wore a smile, was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water.

As soon as he got out of the car, he tightened his coat collar as if the northern wind could penetrate his bones.

"Brother Zhao."

Jin Wanfu looked at Zhao Shanhe, his voice hoarse, and got straight to the point:

"We've encountered a ghost this time."

"What do you mean?" Zhao Shanhe didn't waste any words, looking at him calmly.

"I just received an urgent call from the port while I was in the city."

Jin Wanfu pulled out his pure gold lighter from his pocket, lit a cigar with a "ding," but this time he took a deep drag, not so much savoring the smoke as if he were trying to calm his nerves.

"Those Russians have already tested the first batch of samples we sent over."

"The quality was fine, even better than they expected. But Vasily, the one in charge of the inspection, gave it a 'failed' rating."

Ergaizi, who was standing nearby, immediately exploded upon hearing this:

"Bullshit! I checked each and every one of those mink pelts myself; the fur was all shiny. And those wild ginseng pelts—they were all old stock, with complete feathers and tails! How could they be substandard?"

"They didn't say it was substandard."

Jin Wanfu waved his hand, interrupting Ergaizi, his gaze fixed on Zhao Shanhe, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke:

"They say the goods meet the standards, but the grade isn't high enough."

"Vasily said that the sable fur wasn't dark enough and the ginseng lacked flavor. According to their standards, this batch of first-grade ginseng could only be sold at the price of second-grade ginseng."

"Second-grade product?"

Zhao Shanhe narrowed his eyes.

When it comes to mountain products, there's a world of difference between first-grade and second-grade.

The first level is the price for tribute items, and the second level is the price for street vendors.

If the price is settled at the second-grade level, let alone making a profit, we won't even be able to recover the cost of buying the mountain goods.

"That's called outright robbery."

Jin Wanfu gritted his teeth, the flesh on his cheeks trembling:

"That Vasily was a favorite of the port window director. He was notoriously arrogant and stubborn, and he also wielded real power."

"He declared: either accept the second-tier price, or get out."

"and……"

Jin Wanfu held up one finger, his face growing even uglier:

"He drew a red line for us."

"Ten days."

"If those five train cars of mountain goods cannot be sealed and dispatched within ten days, he will directly switch suppliers. I heard that the Wenzhou gang in the south has already obtained a batch of substitutes and brought the goods to the port, just waiting for us to make room."

The scene fell into a deathly silence.

That's a really vicious move.

Level capping leaves you with no profit, time limits leave you with no way out, and you have to be ready to be replaced at any time.

This is a whole set of combined punches that drive people to their doom.

Erga was so anxious he kept stamping his feet:

"How can these Russians be even more ruthless than bandits? Didn't we already agree on everything? First-class goods mean first-class prices; there's no reason for them to go back on their word at the last minute!"

"A deal has been reached?"

Jin Wanfu scoffed, his face full of disdain:

"That's just how the Russians have always been. When they turned against our country back then, they withdrew their experts and tore up their blueprints. When did they ever reason with us? When did they ever uphold any principles?"

"At the border, Vasily's word is law. Especially when it comes to mountain products, he says black is black, and he says white is white."

At this point, Jin Wanfu turned his head and looked at Zhao Shanhe, who still had a calm expression, with a complicated look in his eyes:

"Brother Zhao, this is a tricky situation. If we agree, we'll have worked for nothing and even lost money; if we don't agree, this connection will be severed."

"What do you think we should do?"