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

"30%...I'll take it!"

"Fine, I'll give it to you!!"

Vasily was practically paralyzed on Director Li, his face covered in tears and snot, showing no semblance of the dignity of a Soviet official.

He was genuinely scared.

That truck belching black smoke wasn't taking away goods; it was taking his life.

however.

Faced with Vasily's desperate pleas, Director Li simply stopped, turned to the side, and avoided Vasily's outstretched hand.

He walked to the window, glanced at the Jiefang truck downstairs that was already in gear and slowly moving, took a deep drag of his cigarette, and spoke in a tone as flat as a glass of water:

"Mr. Vasily, what's the point of telling me?"

"His legs are on his body, and the plate is in his hands."

Director Li pointed out the window, his finger resembling a verdict:

"The car has already moved. Once it's out of this gate, even if the King of Heaven himself came, he couldn't call it back."

"If you want to save your life, begging me won't help."

Director Li turned his head, looking down at Vasily, who was slumped on the ground, and coldly uttered three words:

"Go after him yourself."

boom!

These words were like an electric current, instantly piercing Vasily's spine.

It is better to ask for yourself than for others.

If we don't chase after it now, it will really be too late!

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

Vasily sprang to his feet and scrambled out of the office.

The heavy military boots slammed onto the wooden stairs with a rapid and frantic thud.

Major Vasily, who was usually meticulous about his appearance and even combed his hair to perfection, was now running wildly down the stairs like a wild boar with its tail burned off.

He slipped on the second-floor corner because he was running too fast.

"Swoosh—Bang!"

He slid sideways out of control, his shoulder slamming hard against the whitewashed wall, leaving a layer of white residue on his crisp uniform, which made him wince in pain.

But he didn't even dare to rub it.

The fear of losing everything whipped his spine like a lash.

"Stop!!"

"Zhao! I won't let you leave!!"

The roar echoed in the empty corridor, tinged with a broken, sobbing voice.

"Bang!"

The heavy, windproof door on the first floor was violently kicked open.

A biting gust of cold wind, mixed with snowflakes, instantly rushed into the hall.

In the wind and snow.

The Jiefang truck was now fully operational.

A thick cloud of black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, and the wheels left two deep ruts in the snow. The front of the car was slowly protruding out of the gate, and the speed was getting faster and faster.

That means they're really leaving!

Without the slightest hesitation!

"No--!!"

Vasily felt a buzzing sound in his head.

He didn't care about diplomatic etiquette or the image of an official.

He was like a meat bomb, waving his large hands, sprinting wildly through the ankle-deep snow, shouting hoarsely as he ran:

"Cease fire!! Zhao! Stop right there!!"

"I'll sign! I'll sign right now!!"

The front of the car was about to rush out of the gate.

Vasily gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and pounced on the attack.

That two-hundred-pound body was positioned squarely in front of the truck, arms outstretched, like a reckless robber.

"squeak--!!"

The screeching sound of brakes instantly drowned out the sound of the wind.

Erga was startled and slammed on the brakes.

The heavy safety bar was less than a fist's distance from Vasily's knee.

If it had been just half a second later, this Soviet window manager would have spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

"Damn it! You're asking for it!"

Ergazi leaned out of the car window, spat, and cursed loudly:

"A good dog doesn't block the way! Weren't you acting all high and mighty upstairs just now? Why are you blocking the way now?"

Vasily didn't hear what he was cursing at all.

He held onto the scorching hot engine hood, gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his throat.

Before Ergaizi could utter another curse, Vasily had already rushed to the passenger door, gripping the door handle tightly with both hands, as if afraid the car would lurch forward again.

"Creak—"

The car window slowly rolled down.

Zhao Shanhe sat inside, slowly lit another cigarette, and looked down at the disheveled Vasily with indifferent eyes.

"Mr. Vasily, are you trying to stage an accident?"

Zhao Shanhe flicked his cigarette ash, his tone icy:

"In this freezing weather, if someone gets hit and killed, would it be considered a diplomatic incident or a traffic accident?"

"No...no!"

Vasily wiped the frozen sweat from his forehead and said hurriedly:

"Zhao! I agreed! I shouted from upstairs just now, didn't you hear me?!"

"Top-grade product! All will be priced as top-grade!"

Vasily held up three fingers, his tone carrying an urgent tone that implied, "I've given you a huge favor."

"And that 30% price increase you wanted! I've agreed to that too! I agree to it all!"

"You can get off the bus now! We'll go up and sign the papers right now! Immediately!"

In his view, he had already conceded to this extent, which was nothing short of a humiliating concession that betrayed the country's sovereignty.

This Chinese man should be extremely grateful, and should immediately turn off the engine, get out of the car, shake his hand, and say "It's a pleasure to cooperate with you."

however.

Zhao Shanhe simply looked at him quietly, his eyes showing no emotion.

"Is it over?" Zhao Shanhe asked.

Vasily was taken aback: "Wh...what?"

"Have the terms been agreed upon?"

Zhao Shanhe threw the cigarette butt out the window. The butt landed on the snow and went out with a hiss.

"Vasily, aren't you mistaken about something?"

Zhao Shanhe turned his head, looked at the fat face so close to his, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of his mouth:

"Grade A product, up 30%. That was the price upstairs just now."

That's a "friends' price".

"I'm downstairs now."

"The car has already started, the gas has been burned, and you've ruined my mood."

Zhao Shanhe leaned back slightly in his chair and said slowly and deliberately:

"We can't be friends anymore, now it's business."

"Business must be done according to business rules."

Vasily's eyes widened, as if he had heard something unbelievable.

He gripped the car door tightly, his knuckles white from the force, and his voice distorted:

"You...you're trying to raise the price! You're being a scoundrel!"

"I've already agreed to a 30% increase! How much more do you want? 40%? 50%?!"

"Zhao! Don't be so greedy! This is a Soviet state procurement! Aren't you afraid of overeating?!"

Vasily's roar echoed through the wind and snow.

Faced with Vasily's rage, Zhao Shanhe simply watched him coldly until Vasily was tired of yelling and then slowly spoke.

"Thirty percent of the money is enough."

Zhao Shanhe extended a finger and pried Vasily's fingers, one by one, off the car door:

"Any more than that would be extortion. I'll only take what I'm entitled to."

"Then what do you want?!" Vasily was going crazy; he couldn't believe that Zhao Shanhe only wanted this much.

Zhao Shanhe narrowed his eyes, his gaze sweeping over Vasily's shoulder and across the entrance to the compound.

There, two Chinese sentries, dressed in grass-green military uniforms and holding steel rifles, stood ramrod straight, their eyes warily watching the commotion.

"I'm not afraid here."

Zhao Shanhe pointed to the two Chinese sentries, his tone calm:

"This is my country. With them here, even if you, Vasily, have extraordinary abilities, you wouldn't dare lay a finger on me."

After saying that, Zhao Shanhe abruptly changed the subject, his eyes instantly becoming sharp as knives:

"But once we're outside this gate, on the road leading to the border bridge... I don't trust you."

"If I drive into the buffer zone, you should call ahead and have the Soviet border guards on the other side set up a checkpoint, accuse me of smuggling, and impound me and the car..."

Zhao Shanhe leaned forward slightly, staring into Vasily's eyes, and sneered:

"When we get to your territory, who will I complain to?"

"Nonsense! I'm a foreign trade official! How could I do such a despicable thing!" Vasily argued, his face flushed and his eyes darting around.

"You can know a person's face but not their heart."

Zhao Shanhe wouldn't listen to any explanations. He pointed to the passenger seat next to him, and then to the empty sleeper berth behind him:

"If you want me to take this shipment over, you'll need to add insurance."

"You, get in the car."

"What?" Vasily thought he had misheard.

"I said, get in the car."

The smile on Zhao Shanhe's face vanished, replaced by a chilling, bandit-like aura:

"You're wearing this suit, personally escorting my car."

"From here, we'll ride all the way to the border, until the goods are stored and the money is received."

Zhao Shanhe stared into Vasily's eyes and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"You're a section chief in the Soviet. With you in the car, the Soviet border guards across the street won't dare to stop us, and the KGB won't dare to check us on the road."

"I want this deal to go perfectly."

Dead silence.

The wind and snow were howling, but the entire courtyard was eerily quiet.

"You...you're dreaming!"

Vasily was trembling with anger, his hand pointing at Zhao Shanhe shaking:

"I'm a Soviet official! A diplomat! You want me to escort your car? To be your bodyguard?"

"This is an insult! This is an insult to the Great Alliance!"

How could he, a dignified foreign trade director, be crammed into a Chinese farmer's beat-up truck, escorting goods like a lackey? If his subordinates saw this, where would he put his face?

"You're not going? Fine."

Without saying a word, Zhao Shanhe didn't give Vasily a chance to bargain, and immediately turned to Ergaizi and yelled:

"Drive! Go home!"

"Okay!"

Erga had long disliked the fat man, and upon hearing this, he floored the gas pedal.

"boom--!!"

The engine roared, spewing out thick black smoke.

The huge wheels kicked up a large cloud of snow and mud, splashing Vasily all over.

The truck suddenly lurched forward.

Vasily instinctively let go and stepped back, watching as the taillights of the car were about to disappear into the snowstorm.

"Tick-tock—"

That was the sound of a countdown.

Ten days.

If this car leaves, ten days later, Vasily will be nothing but a corpse facing the "teacher's" indifferent face.

The fear of losing everything instantly overwhelmed any notion of dignity, face, or class.

Rather than digging potatoes in Siberia, rather than being made a scapegoat and executed by those above...

What's so special about being a bodyguard?

What's so special about riding in a truck?

He'd do anything to survive, even lying on the roof of the car!

It's better to lose face than to lose your life!

"stop!!"

Vasily let out a heart-wrenching howl, a cry that shattered completely.

He chased after the truck for a couple of steps like a dog, waving his arms wildly:

"I'll sit!!"

"I'm getting on the bus right now!!!"