Chapter 319: Cross-Channel Conversation

The sudden hoarse voice startled Li Xian.

Looking up, he observed the man before him: lean, refined, with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and a noticeable glint in his eyes. His fingers, which were holding back a cough, were long and seemed like those of someone who had practiced piano. Perhaps the man was catching a cold, as he was forcing himself to suppress his cough, his face slightly flushed.

In terms of looks, this man was certainly a bit less attractive than Li Xian.

But in terms of charm... the man, who looked to be around forty, was perhaps comparable to the youthful Li Xian.

Barely.

Given the favorable impression the man made on Li Xian, he took out his lighter and lit the cigarette he had been holding in his mouth.

"Ah." Watching the man smile at him, he exhaled smoke, "Since you have a cold, you should avoid smoking. It's bad for your health."

The man's hand, which had been reaching out, froze mid-air. He stared at Li Xian for a while, unable to come up with a response.

Seeing the man constantly scrutinizing him, Li Xian brought his cigarette to his mouth again, took a deep puff, and exhaled leisurely.

This cigarette is truly delightful.

He really couldn't stand people who looked better than him.

The man, with his slender fingers, finally managed a reluctant smile, "I've been smoking for over twenty years. It's hard to quit all of a sudden."

Seeing the stubborn hand still outstretched, Li Xian relented.

Alright, since you're so insistent, I'll give it to you.

He handed over the lighter. It was one he had recently acquired from Xu Maohe, adorned with German text he couldn't decipher. The design was quite unique, with a semi-automatic mechanical structure and a reservoir that resembled a small hip flask.

After lighting his Panda cigarette, the man shook the lighter in his hand and coughed twice, saying, "Karl Weidmann, a good piece. Have you been to Russia?"

Li Xian frowned, "How could you tell?"

The man chuckled, "Americans have Zippos, Germans have Weidmann. But while every American soldier has a Zippo, not every German soldier uses a Weidmann. It's usually seen in China as war-time confiscations from Russia or imports from East Germany."

Oh!

Upon hearing this, Li Xian looked at the bottom of the lighter and indeed saw the mark "1940."

This made him regard the suave man in front of him with renewed respect—an expert!

"Brother, here for business at the Provincial Committee?" He shifted his stance, making space by moving away from the tree he was leaning against.

The man approached, tightening his coat, and nodded, "Yes. And you?"

Li Xian felt one should be modest.

Not wanting to reveal his high-profile visit to Secretary Sun Weimin, he fabricated a story, "Oh, I recently bought over 500 acres of land and came here to handle some paperwork."

The man frowned, sensing the story was a bit too far-fetched, but didn't say much. Instead, he asked, "Where are you from?"

Checking the household registration? 

Li Xian internally scoffed. Adhering to his good habits from before crossing over, he casually replied, "From Beijing. You know Haidian?"

Hearing the strong northeastern accent, the man twitched his lips as if struggling with another statement.

"Really... what a coincidence." The man seemed to take a long detour in his thoughts, "I'm also from Beijing. How come you're developing in the northeast?"

Li Xian gave him a sidelong glance, thinking, "It's a chance encounter, and this guy is talking too much."

"Oh. Building our country, it's all the same everywhere. The northeast is great, with green mountains and clear waters, high vegetation coverage, and natural oxygen bars. Much better than Beijing."

Watching Li Xian, who was speaking impractically in the freezing cold, the man felt a pang of irritation.

Can't this guy say something sensible?

"Brother, brother?"

As he was pondering, Li Xian called out to him, "So, your family is also from Beijing. Why are you here?"

"Ah, oh." The man came back to his senses, took a puff of his cigarette, and forced a smile, "Work transfer."

"Hey!" Li Xian tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, "Why leave a good place like Beijing to come to this miserable spot? It'll be several degrees below zero soon."

Finally, a sensible comment! 

The man seized the opportunity and continued without letting Li Xian change the subject, "Yeah, when I was stationed in the south a few years ago, I heard from those in the northeast that winters here are harsh, but I didn't expect it to be this cold. It's only November, and it's already below ten degrees."

Li Xian was quite interested in the experience of being stationed.

Though he hadn't lived through that era, he had encountered the restless wave of that time through novels by Du Liang and TV dramas by Wang Shuo.

Looking at the refined man in front of him who seemed never to have done heavy labor, he was surprised, "You've been stationed before?"

"Haha," The man laughed, "For people of our age, it's rare not to have served in the army or been stationed."

Seeing Li Xian's curiosity, the man threw away his cigarette butt, gestured, and his eyes grew distant as he continued, "It was tough back then. I was stationed in Guangxi. There were over ten educated youths in the production team, always hungry and exhausted, barely able to walk, and still had to work. You know, the production teams had communal dining halls. Two meals a day, all thin porridge, no dry food. One of the educated youths who came before me settled down there, married, and had children. One day, he brought back a jar of corn paste from the dining hall, which was their family's dinner. While his wife and child were working in the fields, he was so hungry that he ate his portion first. But when he heard his wife and child returning and went to serve the remaining corn paste, he found the jar empty."

At this point, the man paused.

"And then?" Li Xian, who was engrossed, urged him to continue.

The man smiled wryly, took out a cigarette from his pocket, handed one to Li Xian, and lit one for himself. With a sigh, he continued, "He panicked, thinking he had picked up the wrong jar. He searched the whole house, but couldn't find any corn paste. All the bowls, basins, and jars were empty. It wasn't until then that he realized he had unwittingly eaten the entire family's dinner because he was so hungry."

"What happened next? How did he explain it to his wife and child?" Li Xian, deeply interested, asked.

"Explain, my foot." The man, even when cursing, was still refined, "He was too embarrassed to face anyone, especially his wife and child. He hurriedly fled through the back window of the house and hid in a straw pile for a whole day and night. He didn't come out even when the neighbors searched for him, and he didn't come out even when he heard his wife and child crying at home."

The man tilted his head, glanced at Li Xian, and smiled, "Later, he ran to the county town, called an old classmate, and returned to Beijing."

"And his wife and child?" Li Xian furrowed his brows, "Did he bring them back after returning?"

"No." The man shook his head with a smile, "He didn't dare. Later, when I returned to the city, I met him once. He said the reason he could come back was that the classmate he contacted was a girl he had been pursuing in high school. He promised to marry her, and it was through her family's connections that he was brought back to the city."

"Oh."

After hearing all this, Li Xian nodded thoughtfully, "What a bastard."

He felt that just cursing wasn't enough to express his feelings: "That guy acted like a rat, leaving a mess wherever he went. Leaving a widow and orphans behind? Even if he had to remarry and settle his family, that would have been the least he could do."

"Worthless."

Finally, he gave his verdict.

The man, who had been smoking, flushed and began to cough violently.