Chapter Thirty-Seven: Enduring Battle
The small courtyard of the rented house.
Lu Kun was feeling troubled at the moment.
There was still too much sand ginger left; he needed to get rid of it quickly.
He couldn’t go to the Fengyang City farmers’ market in the short term.
It was too risky.
Fortunately, Fengyang City had jurisdiction over three county-level cities and dozens of towns. The market was large enough to absorb all the sand ginger Lu Kun had on hand.
In the past few days, Lu Kun had been hauling a truckload of sand ginger to several counties every morning and evening. After selling it, he would rush back.
Gui A County, H County, and Baolin County were, after all, just county-level cities and not the main focus of the shadowy bosses behind the scenes. Selling on a large scale was much safer here than in Fengyang City.
Of course, the price of sand ginger in the counties was a bit lower than in Fengyang City.
Even a rabbit doesn’t eat the grass by its own burrow.
Lu Kun kept a low profile with his dealings in Gui A County.
Most of the time, he would push his bicycle, carrying two sacks of sand ginger, and sell small amounts in various rural towns.
Like rain moistening things silently.
In less than a week, the more than eighty thousand jin of sand ginger stored in the courtyard of the rented house was quietly sold out.
Lu Kun could finally breathe a long sigh of relief.
As time passed, the price of sand ginger continued to fluctuate.
To be precise, it kept soaring.
When Lu Kun first started selling, the market price for sand ginger was less than six yuan per jin.
Now, the price had risen to more than nine yuan per jin.
The small-time sand ginger buyers were overjoyed.
Sand ginger bought that morning at nine yuan per jin could fetch nine and a half yuan by the next day, even if they hadn’t had time to resell it yet.
It was as if heaven itself was showering them with fortune.
...
Having sold eighty thousand jin of sand ginger, Lu Kun did some calculations: he had made over six hundred and thirty thousand yuan in total.
At this moment, Lu Kun felt as if he had returned to that moment in his previous life when he successfully took over the ruthless boss’s hardware factory, unable to contain his joy.
“Hold steady, don’t get reckless!”
Lu Kun took a deep breath and reminded himself inwardly.
“This is only the beginning.”
...
Ping’an Village.
“Shitou, I need your help.”
Lu Kun fixed his gaze on Shitou and spoke earnestly.
These last few days, things had been far from peaceful on the market.
Some old farmers who carried sand ginger to the market returned not with money, but with bruises all over their bodies.
They’d been robbed!
To a farmer, that money meant more than life itself. Outnumbered, they’d face down blades with bare hands, suffering wounds all over for their trouble.
And this wasn’t even the most chaotic time yet.
As the price of sand ginger continued to skyrocket, the ambitions of desperate men would swell without limit.
Marx once said:
“If capital yields a fifty percent profit, it will take risks; for a hundred percent profit, it will trample all human laws; for three hundred percent, there is no crime it will not commit, even at the risk of being hanged.”
Ambitious men who still observed some rules could be dealt with—even if it meant losing money to save one’s life.
What was truly frightening were the thugs whose unchecked ambitions made them fearless.
They had no reverence for anything.
They acted with brutality, bloodthirsty by nature.
“What do you plan to do?”
Shitou pushed back the fine cigarettes Lu Kun offered, fell silent for a while, and finally spoke.
Lu Kun and Shitou had both once been street punks—not criminals. Even when they clashed with other gangs, the most they’d done was wave knives around for show.
They had never actually used blades in a real fight.
Lu Kun remained silent.
Currently, there were over ten thousand jin of sand ginger stored at Shitou’s house, and another thirty thousand jin stored in three small rental houses in Ping’an Town.
Shitou was not one to lose his head over big matters.
After all, the sand ginger stored at his house belonged to Lu Kun, not himself. No matter how close their brotherhood, this was not a decision Shitou could make for him.
“How many brothers can you gather in two or three days?” Lu Kun wanted to have an idea of his resources.
Shitou rubbed his hands, searched his pockets for a cigarette pack, and found it empty.
Awkward silence.
Shitou lifted his lowered head, his eyes lighting up as he took the cigarette from behind Lu Kun’s ear and lit it.
Lu Kun: ...
You just turned me down a moment ago...
What’s your problem! So pretentious!
“Cough, cough...”
Shitou exhaled a smoke ring, glanced at Lu Kun’s disgruntled expression, and coughed lightly to cover his embarrassment.
“If I really try, pulling together thirty or fifty people isn’t an issue, but...” Shitou hesitated.
“Money is negotiable.”
Lu Kun hurried to say.
Shitou rolled his eyes at him and snapped, “Who said anything about money? If you want to pay, find someone else, not me!”
“You, honestly—ugly as you are, you sure have a high opinion of yourself. I meant the reward for the guys I’ll call in, not for you personally.”
Lu Kun joked back at Shitou.
“Oh, so you’ve gotten bold lately? Daring to mock me now?”
Before he finished speaking, Shitou hooked his right arm around Lu Kun’s neck.
“All right, all right...” Lu Kun croaked before Shitou could say more.
They’d played around like this since they were boys; who knew how many times they’d joked and wrestled.
...
Bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, the two sat atop a small hillock, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, laying out their plans.
“To be honest, if you just want to make up the numbers and put on a show, getting thirty or fifty guys is no problem. But if you want people who know the rules, can get things done, and can keep their mouths shut, there aren’t many,” Shitou admitted, troubled.
He knew exactly what kind of friends he had.
Drinking, playing cards, and chasing women—they were experts at that.
But getting things done—well, that was another story.
After a drink or two, they’d spill their guts before anyone even asked.
“Then just find three to five reliable ones for now, to make a show of strength. Whether they can actually fight is a problem for later,” Lu Kun said after a moment’s thought.
He’d had enough trouble lately.
Every time he made a deal, some punk would show up to make trouble.
If it was just a matter of handing over a little cash, Lu Kun didn’t mind. He knew that sometimes you had to part with small change to make big money.
Experienced street hustlers understood this too.
It was only the new kids on the block who were always trying to stir up trouble.
They didn’t have the skills, and yet they had no sense of their own limitations!
In just a few days, Lu Kun had single-handedly chased off several groups of wannabe gangsters.
To be fair, Lu Kun couldn’t fight as well as Shitou, who could take on ten men at once, but he had a ruthless streak.
He always struck first, believing that the one who hesitated would suffer. Once a confrontation broke out, Lu Kun would go straight for a kick to the groin.
No nonsense—just action!
This way, in most cases, he could take out an opponent with a single blow.
When it came to street fights, dirty tricks were the way to go.
The most shameless, but also the most effective.
...
Having come to an agreement with Shitou, Lu Kun was able to return home with peace of mind to look after his child, while Shitou went off to find those few trustworthy and capable brothers.