Chapter 21: Zhao Yulan

Clack, Zhao Yulan’s chopsticks fell onto the table, her face instantly turning ashen: “Just now a man called, said he was her high school classmate—could it be Zhou Andong?”

Jiang Yuhai asked with a grim face: “She went out?”

Jiang Zhengmin let out a long breath and slowly set down his rice bowl: “She left. Walked out right after the call.”

Jiang Yuhai said: “The caller just now was very likely Zhou Andong.”

Zhao Yulan trembled with rage, slapping the table repeatedly, plates, bowls, and chopsticks clattering: “Has she read so much she’s lost her mind? What does she intend to do? What exactly does she plan? If the neighbors find out she’s been mixing with her ex-brother-in-law, where will I save face?”

Jiang Zhengmin frowned and said to Zhao Yulan: “Don’t get so worked up. Watch your heart.”

“How can I not be worked up?” Zhao Yulan panted heavily. “That damn girl will drive me to an early grave.”

Jiang Zhengmin said: “It’s not as serious as you think.”

“Not serious?” Zhao Yulan sneered. “Zhou Andong isn’t good for anything. What good can come from associating with him?”

Jiang Yuhai suddenly stood up: “I’m going to the distillery to see if Zhou Andong is there.”

Jiang Zhengmin said: “Go if you must, but speak to him calmly.”

Jiang Yuhai said coldly: “What’s there to say to him?”

Bang! Jiang Yuhai slammed the door shut and left.

“None of them are easy to manage,” Jiang Zhengmin muttered, turning to Zhao Yulan. “Listen—I’m telling you, when Yuyue comes back, talk to her calmly.”

“Talk to her calmly?” Zhao Yulan shouted. “Just listen to what she’s done!”

Jiang Zhengmin said irritably: “What has she done? Killed someone? Set fire to a house?”

Zhao Yulan slapped the table twice more: “Associating with Zhou Andong is worse than murder or arson.”

Jiang Zhengmin waved his hand impatiently: “I’m going to work.” He put on his coat, opened the door. “You know your youngest daughter’s temper. If you treat her like this, you won’t get any answer you want. If you push her too hard, she’ll run away again and vanish for half a year—see how frantic you’ll be then.”

At the distillery gate, Zhou Andong hunched his shoulders, head down, pacing in circles, stomping his feet: “Fucking cold.”

Jiang Yuyue stood to the side, arms crossed, watching Zhou Andong with a smile, saying nothing.

“Shit!” Zhou Andong accidentally looked up and was startled by Jiang Yuyue’s presence: “When did you get here? Why didn’t you say something?”

Jiang Yuyue burst out laughing: “Now you know what it feels like standing out here freezing.”

Zhou Andong glared fiercely at Jiang Yuyue: “Let’s go!”

Jiang Yuyue said: “I haven’t eaten yet.”

Zhou Andong sighed: “Let’s go to the mutton soup place across the street. Their dumplings are great too.”

“Fine!” Jiang Yuyue was a foodie—anything edible, she’d eat.

“How’s it taste?” Zhou Andong drank a bowl of mutton soup, his body warming up.

“Mmm!” Jiang Yuyue swallowed her food. “Why did you borrow the camera?”

Zhou Andong pulled out a cigarette and lit it: “Want to get revenge for your classmate’s sister?”

Jiang Yuyue’s eyes lit up: “How?”

Zhou Andong said: “Just need the camera.”

Jiang Yuyue asked, puzzled: “Just the camera?”

Zhou Andong frowned: “Don’t say ‘can’t’ in front of a man.”

Jiang Yuyue didn’t understand—if she had, she’d have scratched his face raw. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

After paying, they left the soup shop. Jiang Yuyue asked: “Where to?”

Zhou Andong said: “Of course to Zhao Jianlong’s arcade—the biggest one on Zhongyangdajie.”

Zhongyangdajie was the busiest street in Jiangchuan. Zhao Jianlong’s largest arcade occupied the middle stretch, two stories high, over a thousand square meters.

Zhou Andong carried a black plastic bag, the camera lens protruding from one opening, its green indicator light blinking faintly.

If this were ten years later, even a seven-year-old child would know he was filming secretly and report him to the police. But now, few knew what “secret filming” meant—and even if they saw it, they wouldn’t care.

“Hou you gen,” “A dou gen”

As Zhou Andong stepped inside, the familiar electronic music, battle sounds, and the rapid thumping of buttons slammed into his ears.

“Shit!” A boy, twelve or thirteen, smoked a cigarette. “Big Brother Qiang, what piece of crap machine is this? I’ve barely played ten minutes and it swallowed three coins already.”

A guy in leather jacket and pants, long hair, walked over: “I told you a hundred times this machine’s broken—you insisted on playing it. Whose fault is that?”

“Shit, out of coins,” the boy cursed bitterly.

A kid nearby, about the same age, said: “I’ve got two left. Let’s go upstairs, try the slot machines, see if luck’s on our side.”

“Let’s go!” The two boys sprinted toward the stairs.

Jiang Yuyue had never been to a place like this. As soon as she entered, she felt the air thick with smoke and filth. Especially seeing underage kids smoking and cursing—she frowned.

“These are all children. They skip school to play games here, fine—but why smoke and swear? How can this be allowed?”

Zhou Andong sighed: “Most of these kids skip class. They spend their meager pocket money here. Some even steal money from home to play slot machines. Today, we’re going to record all of it.”

Jiang Yuyue glanced around, lowered her voice again: “Are we recording to report Zhao Jianlong?”

Zhou Andong shook his head: “If reporting worked, this place would’ve been shut down long ago.”

Jiang Yuyue asked: “Then why record it?”

Zhou Andong smiled: “You’ll find out later. Go buy a few coins—don’t let the guards get suspicious.”

“Okay!” Jiang Yuyue replied, walking to the counter. A fat man, over two hundred jin, sat inside dozing off, drool soaking his shirt.

“I want ten yuan worth of coins,” Jiang Yuyue tossed ten yuan onto the counter.

Hearing the call, the fat man jolted awake, glaring fiercely: “Motherfucker, don’t yell—”

But when he saw Jiang Yuyue’s face, his eyes went wide. He swallowed his curse, then grinned. His gaze, fixed and hungry, seemed ready to devour her whole.

“Beautiful girl, hang out with me for a bit. I won’t take your ten yuan—coins are yours for the taking.”

Jiang Yuyue’s face turned icy. She slammed her bag onto the counter, startling the fat man: “Do you know how much this bag costs?”

Before he could react, she added: “Over four hundred U.S. dollars. Do you think I care about two cents per coin?”

The fat man stared, then burst into laughter: “So you’re a she-tiger!” He counted out game coins onto the counter. “Here you go!”

Jiang Yuyue reached for the coins—the fat man suddenly grabbed her hand, leering: “I love girls like you, little she-tiger. Come play with me.”