The Cook, the Crook, and the Real Estate Tycoon

by Liu Zhenyun

  Since agreeing to be Han’s guarantor, the Xinjiang gang visited Gao every time Han failed to pay on time; the gang’s children pestered Gao’s son. In addition to selling Uighur knives or shining shoes on the street, these young Uighurs now took on the extra job of stopping Gao’s son for money. If he had none, they’d beat him up; if he had less than twenty yuan on him, they’d beat him up. He’d suffered five beatings so far, and he wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have twenty yuan in his pocket, even after Brother Cao had paid off Han’s debt. The adult affair had been resolved; but the children refused to put on the brakes. The day before, when Gao’s son went out to buy a lollypop, he was stopped and beaten again, so scaring him he didn’t go to school today.

  “This is outrageous.” Han was incensed. “They breached our agreement. I’m going to tell Brother Cao.”

  Gao had no idea who Brother Cao was.

  “You’re the one who brought me all the trouble,” he said. “So starting tomorrow, you walk my son to school and pick him up afterward. You don’t have anything to do anyway.”

  “I’m awfully busy,” Han muttered.

  He told Gao it was all Liu Yuejin’s fault. If Liu hadn’t owed Han money, Han would have been able to pay the Xinjiang gang and they wouldn’t be harassing Gao and his son. His scenario was, of course, far from the truth, for Liu only owed him a portion of what he had had to pay the Xinjiang gang. He was eager to find Liu, which to him was more important than the abuse of Gao’s son, so he took out two hundred yuan and slammed it on the table.

  “Here, give this to your son. Two hundred, enough to get out of ten beatings, all right? If they keep at it, I’ll use a knife to show them what I’m made of.”

  Gao stared blankly at the money, confused by Han’s move.

  “Go find Liu Yuejin and tell him to pay me back. If he does, I’ll give you a thousand as compensation for your mental anguish. You’ll not be my guarantor for nothing.”

  Convinced that Han was okay, Gao fell for his ruse.

  “You wait here. I’ll go get him at the construction site.”

  Gao took off his apron to leave, which told Han that Liu was not hiding at Gao’s place. In fact, Gao didn’t even know that Liu was missing. Obviously Gao knew less than he did and was totally useless.

  “When was the last time he was here?” Han stopped Gao.

  “More than two weeks,” Gao cried out when he thought back. “But he owes you money, so why is he hiding from me?”

  The look on Gao’s face showed that he truly was in the dark. Deflated, Han scooped up the money from the table and walked out.

  So Liu wasn’t at Manli’s place or at Gao’s diner. Han concluded that Liu had fled Beijing, which was fine with him. Everyone, including Brother Cao, the two upper-class strangers at Qi’s Teahouse, and Ren Baoliang, was in a hurry to find Liu, but not him, not Han Sheng-li, because he benefited from a missing Liu Yuejin. He had already been paid by two parties and would spend the money as he saw fit. In fact, it would only bring him more trouble if he did manage to locate Liu, since he wouldn’t know who to deliver him to.

  Han relayed his failed search to both Brother Cao and Yan Ge, who seemed to get even more on edge. He went along, knowing full well that the two parties were eager to find Liu for different reasons, knowledge of which he would keep to himself.

  And yet, Liu Yuejin was caught, but by Brother Cao’s people, not Han Shengli. It was the injured Yang Zhi, whose life was spared because the USB drive was a fake, who found him. As Little Bai and others were chasing Liu at the peddlers’ market, Yang struggled to flee but was stopped by one of Bai’s people left to guard him.

  “He’s a con man. No point keeping him around,” Qu Li had said and saved his life.

  Yang dragged himself away and fled in a taxi. He was enormously grateful to the fake USB drive and to the woman, and his two broken ribs led to unexpected results. First, they helped him make up his mind to work for Cao, though he couldn’t go out to work with broken ribs for a while and needed a place to recuperate. He could have gone back to the Shijingshan area and stayed with the Shanxi gang for a while. But that was a small place with few prospects and, taking a long view, he knew he had to aim high if he was looking for the best locale to pin his future on.

  That said, it really didn’t matter which side he went to. The critical factor was which side was better at helping him find the genuine drive, which had proved to be a valuable commodity from his extortion attempt. It was a profitable enterprise he couldn’t pass up, and those few petty thieves from Shanxi wouldn’t be much help in locating the cook and the USB drive. Brother Cao was the man to go to when a major deal was involved, not to mention the fact that he owed Cao’s people a gambling debt. After serious consideration, he decided he’d help them search for the USB drive and reap the reward, with a percentage for him. He’d be able to pay off his debt.

  So he went to Cao’s shed, where he stayed in bed to recover, during which time he sensed a stirring between his legs. It must have been the beating that helped him forget his problem, or it could have been that his problem was driven away during the beating. In any case, the thing seemed to be working again, a pleasant surprise for Yang, who now thought it was worth all the injury. To him it was more important than locating the drive, for he was himself again. Though he was laid up, his mind began to work once more, and he started to ponder Liu’s whereabouts. Finally, early one morning, he came up with a place.

  First, he determined that the cook was still in Beijing, but not because of the USB drive. From his experience working with Liu on the extortion attempt with Qu Li, Yang could tell that the cowardly cook was more worried about his pack and the IOU. He was, in a word, someone who focused on trivial matters and ignored the big picture. If he could tell what was important, he would have been able to see that the drive was the reason Yang had been assaulted. Left alone, he was not brave enough to continue the extortion. To be sure, he would flee Beijing to avoid capture, but precisely because he only worried about insignificant matters—the IOU and the sixty thousand—he would stick around to look for the pack. Cowardly in critical matters and daring in the trivial—cowardly where others were concerned but fearless when it was about himself. After a detailed analysis, Yang knew what was going on in Liu’s head, making it easy to figure out where he’d find him.

  Yang was right. Liu hadn’t left Beijing, but, as Yang had surmised, had stuck around to search for his pack. After watching what was on the drive that night, Manli had told him to clear out of the construction site and the city of Beijing, since what was on it could cost them their lives. For his sake, as well as for herself, she advised against returning to Henan; someone might trace his roots back to his hometown and catch him there. But Liu did not heed her advice, at least not all of it. After parting with her, he changed his mind, only taking half of her suggestion to slip away from the site. His worry over not finding the IOU and the likelihood that Li Gengsheng would break his promise trumped his fear of the potential harm from the drive. If he hadn’t known who had his pack he might have given up and skipped town, but he had the tenuous clue that the Gansu gang had taken it. From following Yang Zhi, he also knew where their den was; it was simply too good a chance to pass up. Which was more important, his life or the pack?

  He thought long and hard and struck middle ground; he had to look for it, but not for too long. Three days. He’d give himself three days; whether he found the bag nor not, he’d have to leave after three days.

  With that settled, he needed a place to stay for the time being. Like Han, he had thought of Manli’s place and Gao’s diner, but he decided against these two options, even though he didn’t believe Manli or Gao would sell him out or that Manli would be upset with him for not taking her advice. It was simply because Liu was a different person now, and his life hung in the balance. Neither place was safe. So where would he be safe? Not at a friend’s place, but somewhere no one would think of, and there had better be a crowd. Where
else but the train station? He could hide among the swarm of passengers and shout for help if something happened. That was why he ended up sleeping among strangers at West Station at night when he was not looking for his pack.

  It was not, however, West Station where Cao’s people caught him. Yang Zhi, like Han Shengli, had considered many places, but not the train station. He had, however, thought of one place Han had not thought of; like Liu, Yang recalled the place he’d been robbed by the Gansu gang. Liu had followed Yang to the little room and, not knowing that the gang had moved to a different location, would want to go back there to wait for them. Yang relayed his speculation to Brother Cao, who then told Baldy Cui to take some men to that lane in the eastern suburb. Cui knew the area well, as it was where he had stopped Yang and forced him to make the delivery to Beethoven Villa.

  Yang guessed right. At night, Liu slinked over to the little room, only to be greeted by a locked door. Disappointed but unwilling to give up, he was about to hunker down to wait when Cui and his people ambushed him. Caught off guard, Liu thought that Cao’s people had come after him for something else. He’d have told them not to interfere with his business if he hadn’t noticed that they were ordered not to talk to him. He decided he’d better not cross them.

  When they returned to the shed and Brother Cao mentioned the USB drive, Liu realized that there were yet other people searching for it. Known for his meticulousness, Cao took his time detailing to Liu how his capture had come about, stressing that the purse was not important. All he wanted was the USB drive. Everything would be fine if Liu would just hand it over.

  It was now clear to Liu that Cao had not seen the drive; he wanted it for money, obviously unaware of its lethal contents. It was not a drive; it was a time bomb. But Liu did not know how to tell that to Cao or describe his own predicament; how could he tell the man that it was for his own good that he should not have the drive? If he did, it would be like strapping a time bomb on Cao. It wasn’t that Liu was afraid Cao would be in big trouble; it was just that he knew he’d suffer collateral damage once people knew that the USB drive had come from him.

  He decided to play dumb, telling Cao he hadn’t found a purse, let alone something called a USB drive. Cao did not believe him, naturally, and told him to think harder, so everyone would come out fine. Liu continued to lie, saying that, with so many people after the drive, he would have turned it over if he had it. He was a cook and a computer drive was useless to him, he added. Cao sighed and walked out with his hands behind his back. With him gone, Cui and others hung Liu up and tried to beat an answer out of him. Han Shengli joined in, hitting Liu harder than anyone else, for no other reason than he’d lost face by misjudging Liu’s intention.

  Liu had not fled Beijing, and so Han had failed the first task entrusted to him by Brother Cao, which was almost as if the payment to the Xinjiang gang was made for nothing. Brother Cao didn’t say a word about it, but Han felt uneasy, so he gave Liu extra kicks and slapped him a few more times than the others to vent his anger and make up for his oversight. The viciousness shocked not only Liu, but Cao’s people, who knew that Han and Liu were good friends.

  “That bastard has no regard for old friendships.” Baldy Cui could not hide his amazement.

  Liu was beaten black and blue, with blood over all his face, but he held fast to his original story, that he hadn’t found a purse, let alone a USB drive. Cao’s people were left with no choice but to keep up with the torture. Han even began to enjoy himself and picked up a board to strike Liu when Cao strode in and stopped everyone. Still suffering from a cold, he came up to Liu to size him up with his watery eyes. Liu cowered instinctively as he thought Cao was about to hit him, but Cao simply patted him on the cheek.

  “You’ll have my respect if you stick to your story after we hang you up overnight.” He wiped his eyes with a tissue and said to everyone else, “It’s getting late. Go home and get some sleep.”

  “You stay here to watch him,” Cao ordered Little Fatso.

  The others left, all but Little Fatso, who objected to the task Cao had given him. Unable to do so openly, he vented his anger on Liu by picking up a rag from the chopping board and stuffing it into Liu’s mouth.

  30

  Little Fatso

  Liu Yuejin passed out.

  It was the fourth time in his life he’d done that. The first was in 1960, when he was two, and many people in his village had died of starvation during China’s worst famine. Liu had a maternal uncle, a thief, who was the sole reason Liu survived. The farmers guarded what little was left in the fields like hawks, so his uncle was not always successful in finding food, and Liu had fainted from hunger. The second incident occurred after Li Gengsheng beat him when he caught his wife in bed with Li. That was the result of anger. The third time was a few days before, when Yang Zhi told him that his pack had been taken by the Gansu gang; the tension was too much for him. Now in Cao’s shed, he lost consciousness after they hung him up from a beam in the shed; with his body suspended and circulation cut off, he began to gasp for air, especially with the rag in his mouth.

  Not wanting him to scream for help, Little Fatso had stuffed his mouth with a rag used to wipe the cleaver after slaughtering ducks. The stench of rancid blood knocked Liu out. Strangely, he had a dream in which he seemed to have returned to years before his divorce. He and his wife were walking in a marketplace with their son, who was five or six at the time. It was thronged with people, and they lost sight of the boy; then, even his wife was missing. He panicked, but his feet refused to move; he wanted to call out but no sound came. Finally when he woke up, he had no idea where he was. It took him a while to recall that he was in Cao’s shed and slowly pieced everything together to get a grip on his current situation. The lights were on in the shed, and Little Fatso was snoring away in Cao’s rattan chair. Next to Liu was the cage where Cao’s mynah bird had been jumping up and down because, with its ears sealed, it had night and day all mixed up. Finally tired of leaping around, it stuck its head through the slats to observe Liu and, when it saw him wake up, greeted him:

  “Happy New Year.”

  Liu was startled by the greeting, but he had no time for the bird; instead, he kicked his legs hard and tried to scream through the rag, finally waking up Little Fatso, who came up to remove the rag.

  “Water,” Liu said, breathing hard. “I’m dying of thirst.”

  Little Fatso looked at him and picked up Cao’s mug to give him some water. Liu gulped down as much as he could.

  “I need a toilet,” he said when Fatso was about to stuff his mouth again.

  “Go ahead. There are only the two of us here.”

  Obviously Little Fatty would be happy to see him pee in his pants.

  “Number two,” Liu said, and added, when Fatty looked at him, “I’ll do it here if you don’t mind the smell.”

  Fatty gave Liu’s comment some thought before untying the rope to lower Liu. He pulled down Liu’s pants after bringing over the plastic basin used to catch duck’s blood.

  “What about my hands? Do you want to wipe me when I’m done?”

  “What if you run away?”

  “How would I run in this state?” Liu continued, “We’ve gotten to know one another and I wouldn’t get you in trouble after you tried to help me.”

  After thinking it over, Fatty got a knife from the chopping board, freed Liu’s hands, and pressed the knife up close to him.

  “Don’t get any ideas or I’ll use this on you.”

  With his hands free, Liu knew that Fatty was no longer a threat, so he leaned forward while pulling up his pants.

  “Tell you the truth, little brother. I don’t want to live any more, so come on, do me a favor, kill me now.”

  Fatty backed off, his face bright red from irritation.

  “Don’t push me. Or I’ll do it.”

  Liu snatched the knife out of Fatty’s hand.

  “Who are you kidding? You can’t even kill a duck, and now you’re going to
kill me?” He wasn’t done yet. “In the state I’m in, I could kill anyone, you included.”

  He kicked Fatty to the ground, tied him up, stuffed the rag in his mouth, and hung him up by the birdcage. Then he took off his bloodied clothes and put on a set of Cao’s clothes that had been draped over a rope. When that was done, he reached into Fatty’s pocket and came out with a couple of hundred yuan, which he stuffed into his pocket. He tucked away the knife, cautiously opened the door, and looked around to make sure he was safe before taking off running.

  He had no idea that at the moment he escaped, Baldy Cui and two of his lackeys crept out from behind the shed and began to follow him.

  31

  Fang Junde

  Liu Yuejin ran to Manli’s Hair Salon, not for a place to hide, but to tell her that, after the beating at Cao’s shed, he realized he had to stop looking for his pack or he’d lose his life along with it. The people who caught and beat him belonged to one group, and who knows how many more groups were out there looking for him. He had thought his lost pack was more important than the purse he’d found, which was why he’d stayed in Beijing. Now it was clear that whatever was in the purse trumped the stuff in his pack. Objects are like people; you can think what you want about yourself, but only other people can validate your worth. Now he truly regretted not taking Manli’s advice; had he left Beijing earlier, he would not have experienced the hairy episode at Cao’s shed, but he wasn’t going there to confess his regret. He wanted to talk to her about the drive.

  Cao and his people would discover his escape soon enough; if they caught him again, they wouldn’t stop at hanging him up. More likely, they’d kill him. He was going there in spite of the danger to give her a message. Back in Henan, he’d learned the phrase “deliver the message despite the danger” in local drum narratives. The story settings were normally a battlefield, an imperial palace, a prison, or the execution ground in pre-modern China. Who could have predicted that he would be in a similar situation during peaceful times in the modern era? He could only say he was destined for something extraordinary.