Chapter Thirty-three: Return to Southern Ming

It was obvious at a glance that these were local thugs coming to extort money, probably about a dozen of them. Judging by their manner, they were clearly repeat offenders, likely having shaken down many travelers on this road before.

“Guys, we don’t have much on us. Here’s a little something to buy yourselves a drink,” Yu Ping said, taking ten yuan from his pocket and handing it to the young man in the lead.

But from the look on the man’s face, it was clear this paltry sum would not satisfy them.

“Are you treating us like beggars? Let me tell you, unless you hand over two hundred today, none of you are leaving,” the leader snarled, pulling the driver out from behind the wheel as he spoke.

Chen Huajiang was not intimidated; he was a man of some skill. Once everyone had gotten out of the car, he barked, “Who gave you the right to do this here? If we call the police, you’ll all be locked up.”

Seeing that there was someone with backbone among these travelers, the ringleader’s face darkened.

“You dare talk back to me? Boys, get him!” At his command, the gangsters moved to grab Chen Huajiang.

But as soon as they reached for him, Chen Huajiang kicked them away.

Several of the thugs moved to surround them, frightening Yu Ping and the two drivers out of their wits. Out here in the middle of nowhere, if the locals beat them, there would be nowhere to seek justice.

Daguan, who was a burly man, saw Chen Huajiang being beset and joined the fray.

A brawl broke out between the two sides. Unexpectedly, within a short time, Chen Huajiang and Daguan had knocked all ten or so attackers to the ground.

Their assailants had never expected to run into someone trained in martial arts.

“Still want to block our way? Get lost, or I’ll drag you all to the police station,” Chen Huajiang shouted, kicking the leader. Terrified, the man grabbed his boys and fled.

Yu Ping and the two drivers looked at Chen Huajiang in astonishment and admiration. “Xiao Chen, have you studied martial arts?” they asked.

“I trained when I was young, though I haven’t practiced in years. Let’s get going before they come back with reinforcements,” Chen Huajiang urged, hurrying into the car.

The driver sped away, finally leaving that stretch of road behind. The two drivers took turns at the wheel, so neither became too tired.

But just as dawn was breaking, their car ran into trouble again.

This time, it seemed the tire had been punctured, and they were stranded, with no village ahead and no shop behind. They exchanged helpless glances, unable to think of a solution. All they could do was wait, hoping someone would pass by and help.

After about two hours, a large truck finally appeared. The group flagged it down, and the driver got out to examine their tire.

“You’ll have to get to the city ahead and find a tire repair shop, or you won’t be able to go anywhere. As it happens, I’m headed that way. I can take you,” the truck driver offered.

Chen Huajiang asked Yu Ping to wait there while he and Daguan went into the city to find help. Yu Ping wasn’t worried about them running off; after all, Chen Huajiang needed their car to get home, and the city ahead was too small to have a train station.

Once in the city, Chen Huajiang quickly found a repair shop. The owner quoted twenty yuan, and they had little choice but to accept.

“Jiang, look over there—what are they making? It smells fantastic,” Dajiang suddenly pointed out, gesturing toward a small shop nearby.

Chen Huajiang glanced over and saw a large pot set up outside, steam rising from it, though he couldn’t tell what was inside.

“That’s lamb soup—a local favorite,” the mechanic explained, noticing their curiosity and smiling.

Chen Huajiang nodded thoughtfully. Lamb soup was a good thing; if he could learn how to make it, he could add it to his menu in the evenings.

With this in mind, he decided that once the car was fixed, he would bring Yu Ping and the others over for a meal.

The repair shop owner drove them back quickly to where Yu Ping and the rest were waiting. The owner worked efficiently, patching up the tire in no time. Once it was inflated, the five of them set out for the city.

Having eaten nothing all morning, and delayed further by the tire trouble, it was already noon by the time they arrived.

Chen Huajiang led them to the lamb soup shop, and each ordered a bowl with a baked flatbread. The taste was superb.

“Boss, this lamb soup is delicious—how do you make it?” Chen Huajiang asked casually.

“It’s simple—just simmer lamb bones over high heat until the broth turns milky white. That’s it, really,” the owner replied, straightforward and sincere, as was typical of people in those days.

Yu Ping, knowing Chen Huajiang’s intentions, guessed that he was planning to add lamb soup to his offerings.

After the meal, as they returned to the car, Yu Ping grinned. “You’ve got an eye for opportunity—planning to make lamb soup when you get back, aren’t you?”

“I’m just thinking of adding it to the menu. After all, I already make grilled lamb skewers,” Chen Huajiang replied, grinning.

They drove another full day, and by evening, the car finally rolled into Nanming City.

Chen Huajiang didn’t take Yu Ping to his snack shop; the place was still a mess and not fit to receive guests. Besides, Yu Ping was in a hurry to be on his way. They grabbed a quick bite, and Chen Huajiang saw Yu Ping off.

Before leaving, Yu Ping promised to visit again when he had the chance, and invited Chen Huajiang and Daguan to visit his restaurant as well.

Chen Huajiang agreed; building connections with such influential people would be very helpful in the future.

Back home, Lin Jiayin was surprised. He had said it would take ten days, but here he was on the seventh.

“I thought you’d still be gone a few more days. I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Lin Jiayin greeted him with delight.

“We were lucky—caught a ride and saved on train fare, too,” explained Chen Huajiang, handing her the things he’d brought.

He had already left the medicinal herbs at the snack shop, but in Yunnan he had bought some fruit especially for Lin Jiayin and her daughter. In those days, transportation was inconvenient and many fruits weren’t available locally.

Huanhuan had already gone to bed, but hearing their voices, she woke up slowly.

“Daddy, what’s this you bought? It’s so sweet!”

“That’s a mango. Next time I go to Yunnan, I’ll bring you more,” Chen Huajiang said affectionately, stroking her hair.

That night, as they went to bed, Chen Huajiang wrapped his arm around Lin Jiayin. Of course, he didn’t do anything more—after all those busy days, he was exhausted himself. Even just sitting in a car for days on end had left him uncomfortable.

The next morning, Chen Huajiang slept in, reasoning that there was no rush to get to the snack shop since it still needed to be tidied up. He might as well rest until he was fully refreshed.