Han Li's Visit

Five or six minutes later, Fang Bai saw three people walking toward him, one of whom was the driver.

He led the way, followed by two middle-aged men; one of them pushed a single-wheeled wooden cart that seemed to carry repair tools.

Seeing this, Fang Bai figured trouble was unlikely and relaxed, getting out of the car to wait for Zhang Guoping.

"How's it going?"

"They say they can fix it. Let's see what they say first." Zhang Guoping said flatly, then glanced at the two behind him and muttered under his breath, "Damn, we're getting ripped off!"

Hearing this, Fang Bai felt a bit of anger but could only console him quietly, "Can't help it. If they can fix it, just let them."

They exchanged a few low words, then fell silent as the two men approached.

Zhang Guoping led them to the punctured tire and explained the situation to the bald man who hadn't been pushing the cart.

After laying it out, he still tried to haggle: "Boss, this tire's busted. Fixing it costs fifty bucks?"

"That's the price. Didn't we already agree? Changing the inner tube's a hassle, especially on a big truck, and we walked all this way. If you think it's too much, find another shop." The bald man's tone was impatient.

"Alright, go ahead and fix it. Just give me a receipt so I can get reimbursed."

"I can't read or write, so I can't do that." The bald man refused.

"Fine, just fix it."

Zhang Guoping naturally had a way to get the repair costs reimbursed—the tire damage left marks, and he could have Fang Bai write a note. He suspected the man's illiteracy was a lie, just a way to avoid leaving evidence.

Fang Bai stood to the side, observing the bald man and his partner. The bald man had a tattoo on his arm, an eagle's head carved into it, but it was poorly done—the beak was too straight, the eyes lifeless, making it look more like a rooster without a comb.

Heh, a rooster without a comb, no dignity at all. What's the difference from a eunuch chicken?

Thinking this, Fang Bai almost laughed but managed to hold it in.

The other man was ordinary, acting subservient to the bald man, like a lackey.

Listening to their conversation, Fang Bai was stunned by the repair price they quoted—no wonder Zhang Guoping said they were being gouged.

Damn, fifty bucks wasn't cheap, and they actually had the nerve to ask for it.

But there was no way around it. They knew there were no other repair shops nearby; if they didn't use these guys, the driver would have to fix it himself, and that was a hassle.

Fang Bai smiled, offered the bald man a cigarette, and shook his hand to probe his thoughts.

Sure enough, the Triangle Nails were thrown by the bald man.

Tch, what a scumbag.

But they had no choice but to take the loss, even if it wasn't Fang Bai's money.

The bald man, seeing a young guy greet him so warmly and offer a cigarette, felt friendlier.

He'd fix the car properly.

But the money? Still collected.

Half an hour later, the tire was repaired and replaced. Zhang Guoping checked it and paid the bald man, while Fang Bai confirmed the inner tube was patched.

They started the car and drove off. Once they were about a hundred meters away from the bald man, Fang Bai said to Zhang Guoping with a meaningful tone, "Brother Zhang, their repair shop isn't far from here, right?"

"About two or three kilometers."

"On the roadside?"

"Yeah."

"Pull over there for a bit."

Fang Bai let out a scoff. Even without asking Zhang Guoping, he already knew the shop's location from the bald man's mind, along with some things he shouldn't have known.

Zhang Guoping paused, seemed to catch on, and grinned. "What are you planning?"

"You were just there. The shop should be empty now, right?"

"Yeah, and there's no one around. You're not thinking of—"

Fang Bai cut him off. "Don't overthink it. Just drive over there first."

A few minutes later, the truck stopped about a dozen meters behind the repair shop on the roadside. Fang Bai looked around—no one was passing by, just the occasional car.

The shop was a crude structure of asbestos tiles and wooden planks, about a few dozen square meters, with a sign out front reading "Baldy Qiang Repair Station."

Looking further back, the view was blocked by lush trees after about a hundred meters.

Satisfied with his observation, Fang Bai felt reassured.

"Brother Zhang, wait for me. I'll be back in five minutes at most. It'll take them at least ten to push the cart back." Fang Bai grabbed two plastic bags from the car, originally meant for fruit.

He jumped out and jogged toward the repair shop.

Zhang Guoping had only guessed, but seeing Fang Bai actually run to the shop, he couldn't help chuckling. "Damn, this kid's got some nerve!"

He couldn't guess what Fang Bai was up to inside, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good for that bald man.

Fang Bai had been checking the surroundings earlier because he was worried Baldy Qiang might come back too fast and spot their truck parked there.

But from the looks of it, there was no way to see it—those two were probably strolling back slowly.

As for Fang Bai, he reached the shop door and saw the crude wooden door locked with a chain.

But with a little tug, a person could squeeze through the gap between the door and the doorframe.

Fang Bai slipped on a plastic bag, not wanting to leave any fingerprints behind.

As for footprints, there were so many around here, he couldn't worry about that.

A thug who'd only been out of prison for a year after serving three years—would he really dare call the cops?

Fang Bai crawled into the house, went to the bedside, and pulled out an earthenware jar from under the bed, dumping everything inside—about two or three hundred yuan.

This was all Guangtou Qiang's money. Fang Bai didn't hesitate and took it all.

He planned to use it all for good deeds. He wouldn't tell Zhang Guoping, nor would he compensate him.

If he told Zhang Guoping, wouldn't that be admitting he'd "taken" the money?

Besides, this was a windfall earned by his own real skill.

Fang Bai put the jar back in its place, swept his gaze across the room, and spotted a rooster with its feet tied in a corner of the wall. Guangtou Qiang had bought it from the market that morning, so Fang Bai took that too.

As he reached the door, he thought for a moment: when the guy came back and found the chicken missing, he'd probably guess a thief had broken in.

Or, when Guangtou Qiang stored the money in the jar, he'd likely notice it was gone soon enough.

He turned back, picked up a stone from the dirt floor by the bed corner, and scrawled a few words: Han Li was here!

He spotted some toilet paper by the head of the bed and a pile of chicken droppings on the floor where the rooster had been. Fang Bai had an idea. He grabbed the paper, poked it into the droppings, used two sticks to pick up the paper, and stuffed it back into the jar.

"Hey, isn't this a bit gross?"

"Then again, it's nothing much. I just wonder what expression Guangtou Qiang will have when he reaches into the jar for money and pulls out a wad of wet paper, haha..."

After finishing that, Fang Bai went to the door, peeked through the crack a few times, and when he saw no pedestrians, he quickly slipped out and left the repair shop.

The rooster he'd picked up had been so scared when Guangtou Qiang threw it to the ground that it had sprayed out a pile of droppings.

It had been lying down fine that morning, but now it found itself with a different handler being lifted again. It squawked twice in displeasure, but Fang Bai clamped its beak shut with his hand, and it couldn't make another sound.

Zhang Guoping, waiting in the car, had been staring at the repair shop. He saw Fang Bai slip inside and then pop back out less than two minutes later.

Only now, he had a chicken in hand!

That was it?

Still, it made him burst out laughing, and he waved at Fang Bai.

Fang Bai got into the passenger seat with the chicken, tossed it under the seat, and said calmly to Zhang Guoping, "Let's drive away from here first."

The car started again. After they'd driven a kilometer, Fang Bai said, "Brother Zhang, I found a chicken by the roadside. Take it home tonight for some nourishment."

As for the chicken, if Zhang Guoping took it, he'd be an "accomplice."

No, they were ridding the people of a scourge.

Hearing this, Zhang Guoping couldn't help laughing. The way Fang Bai put it was hilarious—found by the roadside.

He smirked. "You don't want it?"

"I'm from the countryside, we've got plenty of chickens. If you don't want it, I'll just toss it."

"Haha, tossing it would be a waste. I'll take it home tonight and stir-fry it, get some good nourishment." Zhang Guoping laughed. Fang Bai had helped him vent his anger, and stealing back a chicken was pretty good too.

No, it was found by the roadside, as Fang Bai had just said, and he'd seen it himself.

Zhang Guoping felt that Fang Bai was a great guy—bold, loyal, and not greedy for petty gains. Someone like that was worth getting close to.

The two drove cheerfully toward Wen City, arriving at around five in the afternoon.