Chapter 321: Wendong Brand
Third Master Zhao sat cross-legged on the kang, recording the gifts. Next to him, Zhao the Fourth managed the money. Gift after gift was being logged in a thick ledger while Zhao the Eighth, with his booming voice, announced each one. Several burly militiamen carrying rifles maintained order.
Wang Dana, wearing a crappy fur hat, kept his back slightly stooped. He carefully clutched a one-yuan note in his hand as he followed the line of people. He kept hearing announcements of how much money people were giving. The smallest amount was no less than fifty cents, and he even heard several people give five yuan. Some who had no money brought various goods or grain instead, all of which were meticulously recorded.
When it was his turn, Wang Dana glanced at the kang. Thick stacks of small bills were piled on it. The floor was packed with people, but while the kang itself was spacious, no one questioned it, and no one dared to approach its edge. At the very back of the kang rested a wooden plaque inscribed with four large characters. Though Wang Dana couldn’t read, he knew they said, “Man’s Will Conquers Heaven.” After another quick glance at the plaque, he handed over his crumpled bill.
“Wang Family’s Hut, Wang Dana, one yuan!”
After logging the gift, Third Master Zhao made a point to look up at Wang Dana. He smiled, nodded, and added, “Stay for the feast before you leave.”
“Yes, of course, of course.”
Wang Dana nodded happily. ‘I definitely made the right call coming here,’ he thought. ‘A wise man knows which side his bread is buttered on. Sometimes, backing the right person is the most important thing of all.’ And he, Wang Dana, was certainly no fool. The thought made him a little angry. He had just gone to his sister and brother-in-law’s house only to find the family of three hadn’t come to help. They were just lazing around at home. He’d wanted to smack them then and there, but he was afraid Zhao Wendong would find out and get angry, so he held back. In his mind, though, he’d already cursed them a thousand times. ‘Fucking idiots, begging for food with a golden bowl in their hands.’
The crowd grew larger and larger, and the most conspicuous group was the punks. It seemed like every punk in the entire Commune had shown up, especially the “108 generals” who had fought alongside Zhao Wendong. They had all assembled, with the sole exception of Little Bastard. Many of them had even gathered their own little crews, all because of their connection to Zhao Wendong.
Some brought one or two followers, while others brought four or five. Seeing their ranks expanding so quickly, Zhang Dadan’s face bloomed into a wide grin. These newcomers all called him Brother Dadan, too. He called out to the crowd, chuckling mysteriously.
“Once you’ve registered your gifts, everyone head to the mess hall! The tables are all set up. I’ve got something good to show you all!”
“What is it, Brother Dadan?”
“You’ll find out when you get to the mess hall!”
Their curiosity successfully piqued, the mob of punks swarmed toward the brigade headquarters to register their gifts. When they got there, they found a line and, surprisingly, began to queue up patiently, acting more civilized than anyone. If they saw someone trying to cut in line, they’d shoot them a glare, helping the militiamen from Dragon King Pond maintain order.
Hearing Zhang Dadan and the others talking secretively about seeing something in the mess hall, Zhao Wendong grew curious. From the expressions on Liangzi’s and Zhang Dadan’s faces, it was obvious they were in on it. It seemed he was the only one being kept in the dark. Just then, he spotted Li Bing with them and called him over.
“Bingzi, hold up.”
Li Bing turned around, his face instantly beaming with pride as he shouted to the others.
“Brother Liang! Brother Dadan! You guys go on ahead! Brother Dong needs me. I’ll be right there.”
With that, he gleefully squeezed through the crowd and ran back to Zhao Wendong.
“What’s up, Brother Dong?”
“How are things with Li Heihu’s family?”
Zhao Wendong was asking about his sister Zhao Damei’s husband’s family. Li Bing immediately puffed out his chest and thumped it loudly.
“Anything you ask for, Brother Dong, you can count on us to handle it! We smashed their windows and doors to smithereens. The house is a wreck, totally unlivable. We smashed it every time he tried to fix it. He’s given up now. He’s living and eating at his father’s place.”
“Mm, good. Have they tried to cause any trouble? Any sign of defiance?”
Li Bing sneered. “They wouldn’t dare, even if they had ten times the nerve. Don’t worry, Brother Dong. I can handle them easily. It’s just… what about our sister? What are your plans for her, Brother Dong?”
Zhao Wendong laid out his plan, as he would need Li Bing’s help with it. “After I get through the next couple of days, I’m going to have my sister divorce him. They have to return everything that’s rightfully hers, down to the last item. If anything is missing, this won’t be over.”
“You got it, Brother Dong! Understood. Just leave it to me.”
“Good. Thanks for the hard work, Bingzi.”
Zhao Wendong clapped Li Bing on the shoulder. Li Bing felt like he was floating on air, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s no trouble, no trouble at all! Your business is our business, Brother Dong!”
“Alright then. So what are you guys up to in the mess hall? You’re all being so secretive.”
Li Bing’s previously loyal expression instantly changed, and he took off running.
“Heh heh, don’t ask me, Brother Dong! Brother Dadan and Brother Liang said it’s a surprise for you. I don’t dare spoil it!”
Watching Li Bing run off, Zhao Wendong was even more baffled. ‘What in the world have those guys cooked up? Acting so secretive… they haven’t built me a spaceship, have they?’
Zhao Weiguo stood with the growing number of cadres from various villages, watching with an amused expression as the dark mass of punks departed. If his side represented the official rulers of the villages, then Zhao Wendong’s crew was the unofficial force that truly held power. A village’s production team leader might have the most authority on paper, but if the young people refused to listen to him, he would be nothing but a figurehead.