Chapter 55: Chapter Fifty-Six: The Escort Mission

Having received the answer he wanted, the village chief left satisfied.

He trusted Li Xuewu because Li Xuewu had mentioned Wen San’er’s name—that counted as a password.

The villagers naturally wouldn’t misunderstand Li Xuewu; it was just a case of swapping one fruit for another.

Li Xuewu waited until nightfall to lock the door, rode around once, then mounted his bicycle and headed back.

At the intersection, he turned again to find Lao Biaozi.

As he rode closer, he saw the man standing at the village entrance smoking.

Seeing Li Xuewu approach, he pointed to a house at the village entrance and said, “They’re all inside—left me dead tired.”

Li Xuewu waved at him and said, “Go find Guodong first. I’ll arrange the transport, then come find you.”

Lao Biaozi knew Li Xuewu didn’t want him to see the transport team, so he didn’t think much of it.

Brother Wu has always been like this—he tells people what they’re allowed to know.

What he doesn’t want them to know, don’t ask—even if you ask, you’ll get scolded.

Just do it!

He mounted his newly bought bicycle and rushed toward the village where Shen Guodong lived.

Li Xuewu entered the courtyard, checked around, and found no one.

He hid behind a corner of the wall, crouched for a while, looked again, then entered the house and touched each pear basket, stowing them away in his space.

This had been agreed upon beforehand: if selling pears, you had to bring the baskets—otherwise, they wouldn’t pay two cents per basket.

Sixty baskets of pears—counting and arranging them one by one would take a normal person a long time, but thankfully, the space made it easy.

After stowing the pears, he stepped outside, stood at the village entrance for a while, then rode his bicycle to catch up with Lao Biaozi.

Li Xuewu’s reconnaissance skills were unquestionable—no one meant no one.

When he reached Shen Guodong’s village, he had Lao Biaozi take Shen Guodong home first—they had nothing more to do here—and reminded them to remember to get the bicycle stamped tomorrow before letting them go.

He followed the same pattern: ride around, collect a pile.

At Erhui and Wen San’er’s places, the same routine applied—except Wen San’er handed him a stack of national grain coupons before parting, urging him to buy as many Northeast specialties as possible, since they sold well on the black market.

Li Xuewu took them, watched the two leave, finished collecting the pears, then rode toward the steel rolling mill.

He arrived at the factory past ten—still, that was thanks to his long legs pedaling so hard the wheels seemed to smoke.

He stowed his bicycle in his space at a deserted spot outside the factory grounds, greeted the guard, and strolled through the gate.

He washed his face, ate the dinner left for him by the security team, packed his cup and lunch box, slipped one undershirt into his satchel, and lay down on the kang to snore.

Li Xuewu took advantage of the time to nap early in the dormitory.

He slept less than an hour; by eleven, Han Zhan and Wang Yimin from the Security Division, who would be joining him on the escort mission, came to find him.

Han Zhan smiled at Li Xuewu and said, “Comrade Li, you’ve got experience—you know to sleep before an escort mission.”

Li Xuewu knew they misunderstood him—he hadn’t been napping in the dormitory all along—but didn’t correct them; he merely smiled faintly and said, “I’ve escorted prisoners of war.”

Han Zhan fell silent immediately.

How could you respond to that?

Li Xuewu noticed Han Zhan looked about twenty-one or twenty-two, lively and energetic.

Wang Yimin was a middle-aged man nearing forty, mature, reserved, and steady.

This was Li Xuewu’s first mission—he needed a mentor to teach him.

Han Zhan didn’t seem like the type to be a mentor; better to learn escort procedures from Wang Yimin.

“Master Wang, I’m Li Xuewu from the Public Security Division. This is my first escort mission—I’m unfamiliar with the procedures. I’d be grateful for your guidance.”

He then offered him a cigarette.

Wang Yimin studied Li Xuewu carefully, politely accepted the cigarette, and asked, “How old are you, Comrade Li?”

Li Xuewu smiled and replied, “Nineteen this year. Just call me Xuewu.”

Wang Yimin sighed, “Truly, the waves of the Yangtze push forward the ones before them—each generation stronger than the last. A nineteen-year-old division chief? Rare indeed. Sharing this mission together is fate—we’ll learn from each other and help one another.”

Li Xuewu noticed Wang Yimin didn’t refer to him as a disciple, likely had his own thoughts—but he didn’t care, still addressing him as Master Wang.

“Master Wang, you’re the senior. Please teach me everything on this escort mission. If I do anything wrong, correct me.”

Wang Yimin smiled and said, “Alright then—I’m twenty years older than you. I’ll call you Xuewu.”

The three went to the weapons depot and each drew a long rifle and a pistol. Li Xuewu took only the long rifle—his sidearm had already been registered, so he didn’t draw it.

Leaving the office building, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and walked along the cement road to the North Gate dispatch area.

The dispatch area was where railway personnel were temporarily assigned to coordinate freight operations; normally, the factory’s own dispatchers handled vehicle scheduling and loading/unloading tasks.

That morning, Li Xuewu had learned that near the steel mill, on the railway line from Beijing heading north, there was a freight spur.

This freight spur was the dedicated line for the steel mill’s incoming and outgoing shipments.

The spur stretched over ten kilometers and had cost a fortune to build—but it had to be built.

The steel mill produced many large, heavy, bulk components, as well as steel plates requiring flatbed transport; there were several shipments each month, making its utilization and cost-effectiveness very high.

Because the Red Star Steel Mill was one of the few factories in the area with its own spur, smaller factories often asked for help transporting goods—though the fees and favors were steep.

That morning, while leading his squad on a run past the dispatch station, Li Xuewu had seen the tracks on the spur gleaming brightly—clearly used frequently.

The Red Star Steel Mill’s dispatch station’s Operations Center stood beside the platform; Li Xuewu, Han Zhan, and Master Wang entered the freight station through the commuter entrance.

They crossed the level crossing on the east side of the platform and climbed onto the Operations Center’s platform.

The Operations Center was a long, low building: the first room was the duty officer’s room, the second the freight dispatch room, the third the commercial inspection room, the fourth the vehicle signal duty room, and the fifth the car number room.

Han Zhan told the two he was going to the restroom.

Wang Yimin led Li Xuewu straight to the car number room.

Upon entering, the supervisor asked, “Master Wang, are you leading the escort today?”

Wang Yimin replied politely, “I’m escorting, but the team leader is Comrade Li Xuewu from the Public Security Division.”

The car number supervisor turned to the car number clerk, who was bent over his desk filling out a train composition list, and asked, “Xiao Qi, has our freight been cleared yet?”

The clerk, busy, didn’t look up and replied, “Almost done, just a moment.”

Only then did the car number supervisor notice Li Xuewu beside Wang Yimin and asked, “Master Wang, taking on an apprentice?”

Wang Yimin quickly shook his head. “No, no—Old Zhang, this is Comrade Li Xuewu, division chief of our factory’s Public Security Division. Comrade Li, this is Car Number Chief Zhang Changshun. You’ll be working with Master Zhang often when you’re on duty.”

Li Xuewu smiled at Zhang Changshun and said, “Hello, Master Zhang!”

“Oh my, Comrade Li, you’re too polite! You just transferred to the Public Security Division? I’ve never seen you before.”

Zhang Changshun was surprised—Li Xuewu looked so young and spoke so refinedly; he’d assumed he was an apprentice.

The Tale of Immortal Wood

Li Xuewu replied, “I just transferred from the military. This is my first escort mission—I’ll need your help going forward.”

“You’re too modest. Impressive—you’re so young and already a military cadre?”

Zhang Changshun found it hard to believe—Li Xuewu looked at most twenty; in his mind, someone that age could only be a trainee.