Chapter 36: Splitting the Money

Wu Xianping left too. Zhou Andong held a cigarette in his mouth, gazing at the swirling snowflakes and said, “Looks like this snow won’t stop anytime soon.”

Yao Jun exhaled: “The weather forecast says tomorrow’s temperature will be minus twenty-seven degrees. This damn sky’s trying to freeze us to death.”

“Let’s go!” Zhou Andong walked toward home. “In the past few days, haven’t you heard any rumors about me and Wang Ruomei?”

Yao Jun froze: “I heard them!”

Zhou Andong asked: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yao Jun said: “Everyone at the factory’s talking about it. You didn’t hear?”

Zhou Andong snapped: “I’m the one involved—except for Liu Yi at the broadcast station and Zhang Zhanhai, who’s going to tell me? I haven’t been to the broadcast station all this time, and I haven’t seen Liu Yi or Old Zhang. How would I know?”

Yao Jun scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly: “I slipped up.”

Zhou Andong took a deep drag on his cigarette: “Wang Ruomei hasn’t shown up for work in two or three days. Send Tang Wenjuan to check on her house. It’s my fault she’s caught up in this—if anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

The moment Zhou Andong said “Tang Wenjuan,” Yao Jun’s heart leapt. He avoided eye contact and muttered: “I’m not close to Tang Wenjuan…”

Zhou Andong stopped walking and stared fixedly at Yao Jun.

Yao Jun grew uneasy under Zhou Andong’s gaze: “What the hell are you staring at? I don’t even know Tang Wenjuan!”

Seeing Yao Jun’s innocent expression, Zhou Andong burst out laughing: “If you want no one to know, don’t do it. You two have been sneaking around for ages—do you think I’m blind?”

Yao Jun’s mouth gaped wide enough to swallow a big white steamed bun: “You… you you you… you you…”

“Slap!”

Zhou Andong kicked Yao Jun in the ass: “You idiot.”

Tang Wenjuan wasn’t particularly beautiful, but she knew how to dress up—she was the factory’s notorious seductress, extremely vain, and of course, never short of suitors.

Yet love is unpredictable—Tang Wenjuan Pianpian fell for Yao Jun, short and unimpressive. When their relationship became public, no one believed it would last.

But against all odds, Tang Wenjuan, as if defiant, married Yao Jun without hesitation, bore him a son and a daughter, yet still remained vain, constantly scolding him for being useless and incompetent.

Later, when Yao Jun was under forty, he suddenly suffered a cerebral thrombosis. He was in critical condition for seven days, received over a dozen critical care notices, and even the doctors urged Tang Wenjuan to give up. But she knelt before them, banging her head on the floor, begging them to save Yao Jun. She sold the house they’d just bought to pay for his treatment.

At that moment, Zhou Andong finally understood: though Tang Wenjuan was vain and always criticized Yao Jun, in her heart, no one could replace him. Suddenly, he felt immense envy—Yao Jun had married a woman who loved him with her life.

Yao Jun survived. After more than two years of recovery and exercise, he regained full health—and even became physically stronger than before his illness. Except on rainy days, he walked every morning.

Yao Jun’s face turned as red as a monkey’s butt: “I… I’ll have Wenjuan go to Wang Ruomei’s house tomorrow.”

Looking at Yao Jun’s pitiful expression, Zhou Andong said: “What’s there to be embarrassed about? When did you get so shy?”

Yao Jun opened his mouth, stammering: “Wenjuan’s reputation isn’t good… you don’t object to you being with her?”

Zhou Andong rolled his eyes: “Who you date is your own business—what right do I have to object? Besides, who’s seen Tang Wenjuan doing anything with another man? Don’t believe every rumor. Just like me and Wang Ruomei—do you believe that’s true?”

Yao Jun shook his head vigorously: “No way!”

“Exactly.” Zhou Andong clapped Yao Jun on the shoulder. “I believe Tang Wenjuan’s a good woman. Don’t let her slip away—you’ll regret it if you do.”

Hearing Zhou Andong’s words, Yao Jun’s expression hardened with unprecedented resolve: “I will. No matter what anyone says, as long as Tang Wenjuan marries me, I’ll marry her.”

Zhou Andong burst into laughter, pulled out the money Wu Xianping had given him, counted it, then took out three thousand and handed it to Yao Jun: “This is yours and San’er’s.”

Yao Jun took the money, counted out a thousand, and returned it to Zhou Andong: “San’er and I talked it over—we’ll each take a thousand. You keep three thousand.”

Zhou Andong said nothing, slipped the money into his pocket. Though Yao Jun and Chen Weimin weren’t rich, they were better off than him. But he’d never forget this brotherly gesture.

At the city hospital, Langtou and Dachong lay in bed, both legs in casts, staring blankly at the ceiling.

These two had suffered comminuted fractures of the leg bones—but worse, their legs had been crushed by tires, causing massive skin avulsions, muscles torn from bones. Had they been brought in any later, they’d be dead. Now, they’d spend the rest of their lives in wheelchairs.

The old wooden door creaked open, and a young man in a suit, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, pale skin, and an elegant demeanor walked in.

His name was Huo Xing—Zhao Jianlong’s strategist and the undisputed leader of Jiangzhou’s underworld. Without him, Zhao Jianlong wouldn’t be where he is today.

Langtou and Dachong turned their heads and saw Huo Xing—their expressions instantly brightened.

“Brother Huo!”

Huo Xing asked: “How are you feeling?”

Langtou said: “Pretty good.”

Huo Xing pulled over a chair and sat down, then pulled two cards from his pocket: “Each card has one hundred thousand. This is your resettlement money. Brother Long says once you’re healed, you can work light duties at the nightclubs.”

They held the cards, moved to tears: “Brother Huo, as long as we’re alive, our lives belong to you and Brother Long.”

Huo Xing smiled: “Rest well, get discharged soon—your brothers are all waiting to throw you a welcome-back party.”

“Fuck!” Dachong cursed: “I’ve had it with this place—can’t smoke, can’t drink—”

Huo Xing shot him a glance. Dachong instantly clamped his mouth shut, swallowing the rest of his words.

“Hmph!”

Huo Xing grunted: “Don’t be stupid. Do what the doctors say. Understood?”

“Understood,” Dachong mumbled.

Langtou chuckled, then his face darkened: “Brother Huo, what about Zhou Andong?”

Huo Xing’s voice turned icy: “Brother Long’s being considered for the province’s Top Ten Outstanding Youth. Once that’s settled, we’ll deal with Zhou Andong. Then, how to handle him—you decide.”