Chapter 57: Under Attack

A man without money is worse than a ghost; soup without salt is no better than water.

In the world of men, you’ll gradually realize that a good heart counts for less than a good tongue—good intentions can never outmatch a sharp tongue.

So when not handling official duties, Li Xuewu always flattered others with three parts praise; a sharp tongue never let him suffer first.

They traveled for over an hour, passing a station, where Wang Yimin and Li Xuewu stood on the guard car platform watching Liu Guoyou and the station assistant exchange safety signal flags before returning inside.

Li Xuewu checked his watch, recorded the station’s passage time in the escort log, sat sideways, pulled out a Daqianmen cigarette, offered one to Master Wang Yimin and one to Liu Guoyou, lit them all, and began smoking himself.

Wang Yimin sat sideways too, smoking as he explained the precautions to observe during escort duty.

“Bang!”

Suddenly, a loud bang made Li Xuewu’s heart jolt.

The observation window on Wang Yimin’s side shattered from a flying stone, shards spraying all over him, forcing him to dive to the floor in fright.

Li Xuewu snapped to attention, unlocked the safety on his Type 56 semi-auto, extended it through the gap, and leaned sideways to peer out at the train’s exterior.

Liu Guoyou trembled in fear, then stood sideways at the window beside Li Xuewu, staring out too.

Outside was pitch black, nothing visible—but they heard a group of children cheering; clearly, the stone had been thrown by them!

Liu Guoyou bolted outside, stood on the passageway, and cursed at the children furiously.

Too bad the train was moving fast; in moments, it had pulled far ahead, and whether his curses carried any distance over the train’s roar—or whether the children even heard them—was doubtful.

Han Zhan was jolted awake by the bang, rifle in hand, ready to jump down, but Wang Yimin stopped him, explained the situation, and he lay back down.

Seeing Liu Guoyou go out to yell, Li Xuewu asked Wang Yimin: “Master Wang, did it hit you?”

Wang Yimin said with relief: “Lucky I was sitting sideways—just got a few glass shards on me, nothing serious.”

Li Xuewu relocked the safety on his Type 56, slung it back across his chest, and helped Wang Yimin brush off the glass shards.

Wang Yimin was still shaken: “Three years ago, Xiao Ma was sitting face-forward during escort duty—some kid threw a stone, shattered the window, and it smashed straight into his face, crushed his nasal bridge, and glass stuck in his skin—he passed out right there. You’ve got to remember this.”

Li Xuewu swept up the glass shards with a broom and shovel from the corner and replied, "You've got real experience, Master. If it weren't for you, I'd have been out of luck today."

Wang Yimin was modest: “Xuewu, it’s nothing. Travel enough, you’ll learn—it’s all experience our Security Department has gathered over years of escort duty.”

Li Xuewu nodded: “Thankfully, it was just a scare. We should summarize this when we get back—I’ve noted it down.”

After cursing for a while, Liu Guoyou stormed back in, picked up the phone, called the front car, and ordered a temporary stop at the next station.

Chief Liu was clearly furious—his tone had turned sharp.

The temperature inside the car dropped sharply; the central heater couldn’t hold back the cold wind rushing through the broken window.

Li Xuewu, ever resourceful, tore down the remaining glass with a cotton quilt, then stuffed the hole with it—only then did the cold ease.

Liu Guoyou took out a sheet of telegraph paper from his backpack, placed it on his duty desk, and told Li Xuewu to shine the signal lamp on it—he was preparing to send a telegram.

Seeing Li Xuewu staring blankly, Liu Guoyou ignored him; it was Wang Yimin who, after cleaning up the glass, sat aside and explained the details to Li Xuewu.

Why send a telegram when the glass broke?

If a train is struck by stones and sustains damage, you must send a telegram to declare it—otherwise, if the guard car window shatters, it’s the chief’s responsibility.

But once you send the telegram, it’s no longer your problem—the responsibility shifts to the station’s jurisdictional security office, since they’re tasked with educating the local populace on “protecting the railway.”

The main recipient and copy recipients for such telegrams have specific rules; just make the facts clear.

For stone-strike incidents like this, the main recipients are the station’s security office, the branch’s safety inspection room, the assigned train segment, and the assigned rolling stock segment.

The telegram was finished; the train was nearing the second station.

The train pulled into the station and stopped. Liu Guoyou took the telegram he’d just written and jumped down with Li Xuewu to the station’s operations room.

Since this train had escort officers, they were required to accompany the escort officer.

And since Li Xuewu had just unlocked his rifle in fright, he had to document the full details of the attack and response in the escort log—so he had to go too.

Liu Guoyou entered the operations room, greeted the staff on duty—he clearly knew them.

After greeting, he handed them the draft telegram: “Old Zheng, a group of kids threw stones at our guard car’s observation window and shattered the glass. Please send this telegram to the telegraph office.”

This third-class station didn’t even have a telegraph office; any telegram needed on the train was handed to the station, who then read its contents over the phone to the telegraph office, which recorded and confirmed the message before sending.

Old Zheng read the telegram and exclaimed: “Oh no! How’s the escort officer? Hurt?”

Liu Guoyou replied: “No injuries—just got glass shards all over him!”

“Good, good!”

Old Zheng kept reading, saw the incident occurred within his station’s jurisdiction, picked up the phone, and called the security office.

After explaining the situation to the on-duty police officer, he hung up.

Not long after, the officer rushed into the operations room.

The officer said to Liu Guoyou: “Chief, don’t send this telegram. This month alone, we’ve had three stone-strike incidents. If you send this one, our office is finished this month.”

Li Xuewu stared at the officer, confused—what did “finished” mean?

Liu Guoyou shook his head: “No way. You can’t dodge responsibility by making me take it. This is a guarded freight train—what’s the nature of this? Besides, replacing one guard car window costs me one yuan.”

The officer hurriedly said to Li Xuewu and Liu Guoyou, both with rifles: “Comrades, help us out—we’ll replace the guard car window for you, just don’t send the telegram.”

He even slipped a pack of cigarettes into Li Xuewu’s hand.

Li Xuewu didn’t even look—he shoved it back: “Comrade, I understand your situation. Our escort side has no issue.”

Seeing the officer had said his piece, Li Xuewu nodded. Liu Guoyou sighed and said: “Fine. As long as you replace the guard car window before we depart, I won’t send the telegram.”

“Thank you, Master! Thank you, Master!”

The officer, relieved, pulled out cigarettes and offered one each to Liu Guoyou and Li Xuewu—this time, both accepted.

After lighting up, the officer said: “Masters, you go ahead—I’ll go replace the glass right away. Guaranteed before departure.”

He then dashed out like a gust of wind.

True to his word, the officer worked fast—he somehow took a window pane from another guard car and installed it on theirs.

Liu Guoyou inspected it—it was securely fitted. He finally nodded: “Alright, no telegram needed.”

After leaving the station, the train didn’t stop again except to change locomotives.

Li Xuewu felt his escort career had begun in chaos, and now, finally, it had calmed down. The three lit another cigarette each and began chatting and joking.