Chapter 56: Chapter Fifty-Six: Whoever Darkened My Day, I

Whether in 1922 or 1981, the train station before Spring Festival was a battlefield everyone detested but had to face.

Especially in 1981, though the number of mobile people was small, train services were even fewer.

With no private cars and scarce alternatives like bus or air transport, all passenger pressure squeezed onto rail transport.

Li Ye stood on a high platform outside the provincial capital’s train station, staring down at an endless sea of tightly packed heads, feeling his claustrophobia nearly overwhelm him.

This was still the capital of Dongshan Province—if it were a major rail hub like Huonan’s capital, it would be even worse.

Back then, many domestic trains weren’t direct and required transfers at such hub cities.

Li Ye’s father had once told him, from a soldier friend, that seven or eight young men heading home for the holiday couldn’t even reach the transfer stamp window at Huonan’s capital.

Helpless, they threw one comrade over the railing like a flying man, stepping on heads just to reach the window.

But even this “not too crowded” scene made Li Ye deeply doubt whether a refined single woman like Teacher Ke could handle such a brutal environment where feet left the ground but you still stood upright.

Yet Li Dayong and Jin Peng beside Li Ye felt no “crowd phobia”—instead, they seemed excited.

Jin Peng said: “Little Ye, you know, take this train and in two days and two nights you’ll reach Yangcheng—gold dust is everywhere; just grab a sack and you’ll get rich...”

Li Dayong gazed up at the towering train station roof, dreaming: “I wonder if next year we’ll be able to take this train far away to university...”

In late 1980, people had too few chances to leave home; many might spend decades trapped within a county of just a few dozen li.

So ambitious young men all yearned for distant places, filled with anticipation for the unknown.

Li Ye smoked a cigarette: “Next year. Next year, you and Hao Jian figure out who’ll go to Yangcheng first, check things out.”

Jin Peng’s eyes lit up instantly as he stared at Li Ye: “Really?”

Li Ye nodded: “Really. Go scout first—whether you make money or not doesn’t matter; just broaden your horizons.”

Jin Peng nodded: “Alright.”

He was always sharp, said little, but understood perfectly.

Li Dayong’s eyes lit up too: “Peng Ge, going alone is dangerous—can I take leave and go with you?”

Li Ye didn’t hesitate: “Stay home.”

Li Dayong froze, crept closer to Li Ye, tugged his sleeve, his eyes full of pleading.

Every boy dreamed of roaming the world; now, hearing about bandits and highwaymen, they didn’t fear danger—they found it thrilling.

Li Ye coldly said: “If you don’t want to repeat your studies alone next year, don’t go anywhere—stay here and study.”

“.........”

“Pfft~”

Jin Peng burst out laughing but didn’t comfort his junior—he added salt to the wound: “Big Yong, you think we’re short on people?”

“Ergou and San Shui beg to join us every day—how many times have they pleaded? You’re a student, not supposed to be competing with us for food?”

Li Dayong sulked off and squatted aside, feeling Jin Peng wasn’t a true brother—failing him at the critical moment.

Jin Peng chuckled and ignored him, then glanced far off and whispered: “Here they come.”

Then Li Ye saw that annoying parted-hair man, and the silent, bald man whose gaze was as sharp as a blade.

Li Ye couldn’t imagine he’d witness such a bizarre, adaptable character today.

Ma Rui, the parted-hair man, had just moments ago been bullying the market with thug-like arrogance, but now turned slick and polished.

He didn’t fight Li Ye’s group—he clapped Jin Peng on the shoulder and became his “friend.”

The deal went through: six and a half jiao per catty of grain coupons—higher than market price.

Li Ye was utterly convinced—he’d never met such a smooth talker; his tongue outshone a stand-up comedian’s. All three of Jin Peng, Li Ye, and Li Dayong together couldn’t match him.

Li Dayong despised this bully of the weak, but Li Ye didn’t care—he asked him to get some premium tobacco and alcohol, plus a sleeper ticket to Jingcheng.

The man patted his chest, promising everything: relatives in the local produce company and railway department—any problem could be solved with money.

Li Ye gave him fifty yuan as deposit, arranging to meet at the station in two hours.

Now, at least this guy hadn’t been short-sighted enough to steal Li Ye’s fifty yuan.

“Brothers, sorry for the wait—during holidays, finding people is tough. I finally gathered everything you wanted.”

“But my second aunt on the railway is off today, so I can only get you three platform tickets...”

Ma Rui opened two bulging bags: four packs of cigarettes, over a dozen bottles of liquor, and some snacks.

The cigarettes were “Little Zhonghua” filtered Peony brand; the liquor was good—six bottles of Maotai, the rest Xifeng.

Li Ye was barely satisfied with the goods, but disappointed he hadn’t gotten the sleeper ticket.

Still, they were strangers in the provincial capital—buying tickets on the spot meant waiting long even for platform tickets.

“Fine. Calculate the total.”

“Sure thing. Peony cigarettes—eighty-five yuan per pack if you take the whole pack. Maotai—I don’t have tickets, fifteen yuan per bottle...”

Li Ye: “.........”

If not for the crowd, Li Ye would’ve shown this bastard a hand-splitting brick trick.

Peony cigarettes cost over five jiao per pack—he marked them up 60%. Maotai with tickets was eight yuan per bottle—he nearly doubled it.

Ma Rui sensed Li Ye’s displeasure instantly: “Brother, don’t think it’s expensive—I told them if it doesn’t sell, I’ll return it the same day.”

Li Ye glanced at him, said nothing, counted the money, and paid.

Back then, all speculators were like this—if their hearts weren’t black enough, how could they get rich?

Money and goods exchanged, Li Ye and Li Dayong took the items and headed to the station entrance to wait for Teacher Ke.

Jin Peng clapped Ma Rui on the shoulder, chatted and laughed for a long while.

After Ma Rui left, Jin Peng returned and told Li Ye: “Don’t worry—he made money off us? I’ll make him spit it all back.”

Li Ye: “Seeking fortune on the road—don’t spill blood unless absolutely necessary.”

Jin Peng laughed: “Of course not! That Ma Rui’s interested in our candy business—he’s already in our trap. We’ll lead him by the nose.”

Fine. In terms of street smarts, Li Ye admitted he wasn’t as good as Jin Peng.

Teacher Ke got off the bus from Qingshui County, ran all the way to the train station, and silently groaned.

A few days ago, when she walked half the night and arrived early to queue for tickets, the provincial capital’s station wasn’t this crowded.

As Spring Festival neared, the station grew more congested each day—there was nothing to be done.

“Please make way, excuse me, my train’s arriving soon—ten-thirty train...”

Teacher Ke abandoned all dignity, shouting as she pushed forward, ignoring whether the people ahead were old or children.

But she carried a small bag in her arms, a large bag slung over her shoulder, and a bundle on her back—bulky as a little bear—how could she move in this sea of people?

“Make way, I’ve got a ten-thirty train...”

Teacher Ke was frantic, her voice hoarse.

The earliest bus from Qingshui County left at eight—she barely made it to the capital by ten, leaving only half an hour—how could that be enough?

“Stop shouting, sister—I’ve been pushing for ages and can’t budge. Shouting won’t help—maybe if you ditch your stuff, you’ll squeeze through...” A thin man beside her stared at her.

Teacher Ke glanced at him, hugged the small bag tighter.

Inside were the manuscript of “Fugitive in the Fire” and her official introduction letter—these two things were her life.

As for the clothes in the sling bag and the twenty steamed buns in the bundle—they were useless now, neither worth keeping nor discarding.

The clothes didn’t matter, but she had almost no grain coupons—what would she eat in Jingcheng?

Though years of hardship had “wilded” Teacher Ke—she could survive on grass—she couldn’t survive without food.

But if she missed the train and couldn’t reach Jingcheng—what then? What about her husband? Her son?

Recalling years of helplessness, Teacher Ke’s eyes grew misty, blurring everything.

No matter how tough or strong you were—what could it change?

What could it fix?

“Teacher Ke, Teacher Ke... Teacher Ke...”

Suddenly, loud calls came steadily closer.

Teacher Ke wiped her face, stood on tiptoe—and saw Li Ye’s handsome face and Li Dayong’s bear-like bulk.

“I’m here! Here!”

Teacher Ke sniffled, waved her thin arms fiercely—like a withered weed in drought, welcoming the coming rain.