Chapter 97

Dark night, a sea of flames.

As soon as Qin Huai entered the memory, he felt like he had arrived at a crime scene.

He stood outside a warehouse, which was engulfed in raging fire, with shrill screams coming from it from time to time. Beside him was a handsome man wearing a slim-fitting long coat, dressed like a standard rich young master from a Republic of China TV drama.

Yes, a handsome man.

A handsome man in the traditional sense.

High nose bridge, regular features, sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes. If he were in a TV drama, even if he couldn't play the handsome male lead, he could at least play a devoted second male lead.

Coupled with a box of blood-stained gold bars, jewelry, and silver dollars in front of him, which were dazzlingly reflected by the firelight, the current scene looked very much like—

A crime scene.

This wasn't just "like"; this was fundamentally a crime scene!

Qin Huai stared dumbfounded at the handsome man in front of him, from whose eyebrows he could vaguely see the shadow of the elderly version of Luo Jun.

No, why wasn't a single word mentioned about such an exciting scene in the background information?

Didn't Luo Jun say he robbed a few mountain bandits?

Now this scene...

Qin Huai looked at the burning warehouse, then at Luo Jun, who was counting the jewelry and gold bars in the box and taking a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the blood off the jewelry.

The people in the warehouse didn't look like mountain bandits either; instead, Luo Jun looked more like a fierce bandit.

Is the primitive accumulation of capital all based on robbery?

Luo Jun finished counting, happily closed the box, and seeing no one around, he didn't hide anything. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulled one out, and blew on it gently at his lips.

The cigarette was lit. Luo Jun calmly finished smoking a cigarette under the firelight, flicked the ash, and left gracefully with the box.

After walking for a while, Luo Jun arrived at the pier. There were a few rickshaw pullers by the roadside, curled up by their rickshaws sleeping and dozing off. Luo Jun walked up to a rickshaw puller who looked relatively strong and fast, and touched him with the box.

The rickshaw puller opened his eyes immediately. His brain hadn't reacted yet, but a smile was already on his face. He got up nimbly: "Sir, where are you going?"

Only then did the rickshaw puller turn his head and find that there was a fire not far away.

"Richard Hotel." Luo Jun threw a small silver dollar to the rickshaw puller, who happily accepted it and ran hard after Luo Jun got on the rickshaw.

The speed was fast and steady, very professional.

Qin Huai followed behind and ran. With the experience of the dry-land marathon at the beginning, Qin Huai indicated that he accepted this long-distance run well.

After arriving at the hotel entrance, Luo Jun threw another small silver dollar to the rickshaw puller, who was so happy that he kept saying auspicious words. Luo Jun walked straight into the hotel. Whether it was the greeter or the staff, they all greeted Luo Jun very skillfully, and it was clear at a glance that he was a regular customer.

Qin Huai followed behind, looking at the interior decoration of the hotel with amazement.

Being a fierce bandit is indeed good; you have money.

This was eighty or ninety years ago. At night, when it was cold, rickshaw pullers could only wear short jackets that were so dirty they were covered in grime, and they could only curl up by their rickshaws to doze off and wait for work.

Not to mention Luo Jun's attire, which was almost on par with the clothing configuration of a TV drama male lead. The hotel he stayed in was brightly lit, with Western-style decor and wool carpets. Even the stone pillars at the hotel entrance were carved with patterns.

There was even an elevator in the hotel.

If the inner and outer cities of Beiping in Chen Huihong's memory were two worlds, then the hotel and the outside in Luo Jun's memory were fundamentally two eras.

Luo Jun walked down the corridor carrying the box.

The corridor was covered with thick wool carpets, which not only felt comfortable to walk on but also made no sound.

A room door was half-open, and the sound of mahjong tiles colliding came from inside. At the door of the room, a pot-bellied middle-aged man wearing a long robe was holding an opium pipe, puffing away, and greeted Luo Jun enthusiastically when he saw him.

"Mr. Luo, do you want to play mahjong? Old Huang is in a hurry to go back to see his newly married eighth concubine, and he insists on using the excuse that he has to go to Gusu tomorrow and must return by 12 o'clock. We are three short of one and are just missing a person."

"Not playing, I have to watch a play tomorrow." Someone inside shouted: "That's watching a play at night too. We'll just play until 5 o'clock, eat a plate of pan-fried buns and rest, it won't delay watching the play."

"What do you know? Mr. Luo is going to watch Liang Zhu. That opera troupe starts at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Do you think it's one of those opera houses that only start at night?"

"Where did that opera troupe come from, starting so early."

"Not sure, it seems to be famous for singing in some rural place, and they only sing Liang Zhu well. Mr. Luo likes to listen to it and has been going for several days in a row."

The person puffing away at the door didn't join the chat inside and asked Luo Jun with a smile: "Mr. Luo, have you heard that the Shi troupe has newly arranged a mechanical play? I heard there's even flying, do you want me to help you get a good seat?"

Luo Jun became interested and nodded slightly: "Sounds quite interesting."

"I knew you would like it. Who in Shanghai doesn't know that you like watching plays, listening to music, watching movies, and reading newspapers the most? You really deserve to be someone who returned from studying abroad. You're just different from us who play mahjong all night."

"I won't delay you anymore. I still need to call one more person for my three-short-of-one game. By the way, I heard that a small gang offended you some time ago and tried to extort you. You..."

"Solved," Luo Jun said lightly.

"I heard that the gang behind them is..."

"Solved together."

Under the middle-aged man's surprised gaze, Luo Jun carried the box and continued to walk forward. The middle-aged man hurriedly closed the door, the action of closing the door being light and slow.

Luo Jun's room was just ahead.

The room was large, and the decoration could be called luxurious. Every item in the room looked expensive; even the candlesticks were gilded, and there was even a flush toilet, which made Qin Huai marvel.

Of course, what was even more amazing was that the room was full of newspapers.

The newspapers were stacked together and arranged very neatly, with the current day's on top. Qin Huai scanned it roughly and found that it wasn't a serious newspaper.

No current affairs, no mutual bashing, no finance, just novels.

All the content of the newspapers Qin Huai could see were serialized novels.

Luo Jun put the box down casually, picked up a newspaper from the table, and read it with relish.

He was even reading a Shushan cultivation novel.

Not only did he read it, but after finishing it, he wrote a letter to the author to be sent to the newspaper office.

Qin Huai:...

No wonder Luo Jun could live for ninety-two years in his first life of passing the tribulation. Besides having a high enough combat power to be a fierce bandit and engage in black-on-black activities to ensure his quality of life, his hobbies were also very stable.

Eighty or ninety years ago, he liked reading cultivation novels; eighty or ninety years later, he liked watching xianxia dramas.

After writing the letter, Luo Jun turned off the lights, pulled the curtains, and went to sleep.

Qin Huai glanced at the clock on the wall; it was only a little past 11 o'clock, and his daily routine was much healthier than the current Luo Jun's.

Luo Jun's daily routine was very healthy, but the daily routine in the rooms next door was very poor. Brightly lit, noisy, mahjong tiles colliding, puffing away, plus some scenes that couldn't be broadcast, they kept tossing and turning until dawn before resting. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe it as a life of dissipation and debauchery.

A little past 6 o'clock, Luo Jun woke up. The hotel waiter had been waiting at the door for a long time, holding a stack of newspapers, and didn't forget to ask Luo Jun if he wanted to call a runner to buy breakfast.

Luo Jun handed the letter to the waiter and specified the porridge, side dishes, and steamed buns from a certain shop, and the waiter went to get busy.

Luo Jun lay comfortably on the sofa in the room and started reading novels again.

Qin Huai:...

No, what other troubles could such a carefree life have?

Are you here to pass the tribulation?

You're simply here for a vacation. Do you know what kind of life Chen Huihong next door is living?

(End of chapter)