Chapter 52: Reversal
"Heheheh. I never would’ve thought... Everyone calls me ’Little Bastard,’ but you, Zhao Wendong, actually remembered my name is Ai Zhongguo. My grandpa gave me this name, telling me to love China. But who the fuck loves us, huh? My grandpa hasn’t eaten in two days. He’s about to fucking starve to death. I went everywhere to borrow grain, but not a single damn person would lend me any!"
"Zhao Wendong, I know who you are. You’re a somebody on the streets. Today, just because you remembered my name, I won’t make things difficult for you guys."
"I don’t want your horse. And other than the food and supplies, I don’t want your other things. That barrel of oil is useless to me, so you can take it back. But right now, I need to use your horse-drawn sled for a bit. Otherwise, I can’t haul all this back home."
He finished with a nonchalant smile.
"And I’m not afraid of you coming after me. My grandpa and I, our two lives are right here. Anyone who thinks they’ve got what it takes can come and try to claim them!"
"Alright, get moving! You guys walk up front!"
The big brown horse, pulling the two connected sleds, turned onto a side road—the one leading to Little Lone Mountain Village. Zhao Wendong and his brothers walked in front while the Little Bastard, Ai Zhongguo, led the horse and followed at a distance, gun in hand, directing them.
"Third Brother, I’m gonna kill him!"
Zhao Wenwu’s eyes were bloodshot with rage, he ground out through clenched teeth. For once, Zhao Wenjun didn’t blame Wenwu for his recklessness. Veins bulged on his own neck. These supplies were his family’s lifeline. Without them, the entire family would be plunged back into starvation. If they couldn’t find more food in the future, it was likely... He didn’t dare to think any further.
"Third Brother," Zhao Wenjun proposed, "how about we rush him together in a bit? I’ll go first. Let him shoot me, and then you guys take him down."
Zhao Wendong immediately shot down Zhao Wenjun’s proposal.
"Get lost! That thing in his hands is an eight-shot repeater. It’s got enough rounds to put two holes in each of us with some to spare."
"Then what’s the plan? We can’t just hand all this stuff over to him!"
"Don’t worry, I have a plan!"
Zhao Wendong said it with such confidence that Zhao Wenjun and Zhao Wenwu, seeing his certainty, felt a little calmer. In reality, Zhao Wendong was bluffing. He didn’t have a plan at all. He just needed to keep his older brothers calm, especially his second brother. He held tightly to Wenwu’s hand, terrified that his hot-headed brother would just charge forward.
’The Little Bastard is clearly at his breaking point, his eyes are bloodshot. I just have to wait for him to let his guard down, see if an opportunity presents itself.’
The Little Bastard’s village was called Little Lone Mountain, not far from the Commune. After less than twenty minutes of walking, they could see the silhouette of the village in the distance. It was a lot like Dragon King Pond—not a soul in sight. Everyone was holed up in their homes for the winter. It was about time for people to be preparing the afternoon meal, but only a few chimneys were letting out smoke.
The Little Bastard’s house, much like Zhao Ergou’s, was on an isolated lane in a back corner, far from the other homes. As soon as he saw his house, the Little Bastard’s tension visibly eased. He stood before his front door, gun in hand, and spoke.
"Zhao Wendong, unload the food for me. Then you can take the horse and the rest of your things and go. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll shoot."
"Alright."
Zhao Wendong nodded. Suddenly, a sound came from inside the house—the whining of a dog.
A weak thought echoed in his mind: ’Starving... no strength...’
The Little Bastard heard it too and instinctively turned his head to look. It was the first time Ai Zhongguo had looked away from him. Seizing the opportunity, Zhao Wendong gritted his teeth, no longer hesitating. He swiftly pulled the "drumstick" pistol from inside his coat and flicked off the safety.
Zhao Wenjun and Zhao Wenwu saw his movement and tensed up immediately, their muscles coiled, ready to charge at a moment’s notice.
"What’s that noise?"
The Little Bastard had just glanced back into the house when he heard Zhao Wendong’s voice right next to his ear. He jumped, cursing himself internally. ’How could I be so careless? I forgot I was in the middle of a robbery!’ He whipped his head back around and yelled.
"None of your business! Don’t come any closer, or watch out for my gun—"
He froze mid-sentence. ’My gun is in Zhao Wendong’s hands? Then what’s this in mine?’
The gun in Zhao Wendong’s hand was now pointed directly at his head. The killing intent in Wendong’s eyes was so palpable it felt solid. The Little Bastard froze.
"Ai Zhongguo, move your hands even a little, and I’ll shoot!"
Zhao Wendong’s voice was ice-cold. The Little Bastard hesitated for a second but ultimately didn’t dare to move. In that instant, Zhao Wenjun and Zhao Wenwu lunged forward together. Wenjun ripped the gun from the Little Bastard’s hand while Wenwu followed up with a vicious backhand across his face. The blow made the Little Bastard see stars, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.
The Little Bastard shook his head, looking in confusion at his own gun in Zhao Wenjun’s hands, then at the one in Zhao Wendong’s. He muttered to himself.
"Impossible... How do you have a ’box cannon’ too? Don’t tell me you’re a half-Japanese bastard like me?"
THUD!
"Fuck you!"
Zhao Wenwu drove another hard punch into the Little Bastard’s stomach, making him double over on the ground like a shrimp. Wenwu might not be the sharpest, but he definitely understood a curse when he heard one.
"Alright, Second Brother, stop. Just hold him down," Zhao Wendong said. "Big Brother, you watch him. If he tries anything, shoot. I’m going to take a look inside."
With that, Zhao Wendong raised his gun and cautiously entered the Little Bastard’s home. The house was even more dilapidated than Zhao Ergou’s. In the outer room, three dogs lay on a pile of straw. They were incredibly weak, nothing but skin and bones. One was yellow and two were black. All three had floppy ears, broad muzzles, almond-shaped eyes, black noses, and slightly squarish heads on large, sturdy frames. The yellow dog had two white spots above its eyes, making it look like it had a second pair from a distance.
Zhao Wendong froze. ’This is the classic look of a purebred Chinese field dog, a hunting hound.’ The words of the big black dog from the purchasing station, Dahei, echoed in his mind again. ’Could Dahei have been talking about these three pups? Does news travel that fast in the dog world? How could word from here have reached the next commune over?’
He opened the door to the inner room and peered inside. An old man lay on the kang, a heated brick bed. He too was just skin and bones, lying utterly still and silent. Only the gentle rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive. This had to be the grandfather the Little Bastard was so desperate to protect.
Stepping back outside, Zhao Wendong looked at the Little Bastard, who was pinned to the snow by Zhao Wenwu.
"Ai Zhongguo, was your grandfather a hunter?"
"Yeah. He used to be a famous Hunter. Now he’s old and can’t move anymore."
The Little Bastard craned his neck and spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the snow. Then, with an expression of release, he said.
"Cut the crap. I lost, and you won. I’ll give you that, Zhao Wendong, you’re one hell of a guy. My mother was tormented by them for seven or eight years, and all she left me was this one gun. And you... you just happen to have one too. I’m impressed. So go on, kill me or torture me. Do whatever you want!"
"Shit, still acting tough, are we? I’ll fucking kill you right now!"
"Stop, Big Brother!"
Zhao Wenjun’s eyes were red as he went to pull the trigger, but Zhao Wendong stopped him short. ’What era are we living in? Killing someone, even a robber, would be a huge mess. And I don’t want my family to have a death on their conscience.’ He thought. ’If it comes to that, I’d rather be the one to do it. I owe them all that much.’
After a moment of thought, Zhao Wendong said to Zhao Wenjun, "Big Brother, leave him a bag of cornmeal and a bag of coarse corn grits."
Eaten sparingly, that would be enough for the Little Bastard and his grandfather to survive until spring. In the Northeast, if you starved to death after the spring thaw, it was because you were just plain lazy.
"Third Brother!"
Zhao Wenjun was instantly furious. This Little Bastard had robbed them. Not only were they not turning him in to the police or beating him to death, but now they were giving him food? In that moment, Zhao Wenjun felt like Zhao Wendong had reverted to being the old, wasteful street loafer he once was.
"Big Brother, just listen to me!"
Zhao Wendong didn’t explain. ’Robbery isn’t a capital offense, and the sentences these days aren’t that harsh. If the Little Bastard gets locked up, his grandfather will surely die. Then we’d have a blood feud with him. A guy like that would definitely come after our family with a vengeance once he got out. It’s worth a bit of grain now to eliminate that future threat.’