Food, clothing, and lodging—Ba Ye basically took care of everything. He treated his subordinates very well. Xi Luo joked, "You can save all your salary! You don't have to spend a penny normally. But... of course, if you want to find women, you'll have to pay for it yourself."
He paused. He hesitated for a moment, looking at me. "You're new here. I can show you around. Well, there's not much around here; it's rather remote, not much of a bustling commercial area… But if you're looking for women, you can go to Hastings Street. Of course, there are prostitutes there too!" He glanced at me. A slight smile appeared on his face. "You're looking for women?"
"Thank you, but I don't need a woman." I politely declined, then hesitated for a moment: "Is there a supermarket nearby? I'd like to buy cigarettes."
Xiluo immediately pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed it to me. I glanced at it and it was Hongtashan! It's so rare to see this stuff abroad!
"Foreigners' cigarettes are all blended, we don't like them. This is better. It was brought from China, a smuggled item from a crew member. You can take it for now."
I accepted it with a smile.
When he talked about the crew, for some reason, I immediately thought of that lovable bastard, Captain Wick, who took two big bags of dollars from me.
I live with Xiluo.
We stayed in a small building next to the auto repair shop, facing the street.
As soon as I entered this small building, I immediately felt a sense of familiarity... really!
This place is like a dormitory in a school or factory in China. It has three floors, and each floor has a long corridor with many rooms on both sides.
“One of my brothers moved to Toronto, so my room is now available. You can stay here.” Ciro seemed very enthusiastic towards me… I guess it was probably the effect of the punch I threw.
There's not much to say about the room; it was messy and dirty, with cigarette butts in the corners and underwear on the sofa... and it was very dirty.
The room wasn't big; two people slept in one room, with two beds. There was a small living room outside, containing a few dumbbells and a very old television.
What surprised me most was that there was actually an old-fashioned record player here!
It's one of those really old-fashioned ones, used for playing vinyl records!
I glanced at Xiluo in surprise. He smiled, revealing a set of white teeth that hadn't yet been stained yellow by tobacco: "This is mine. I like this stuff."
I put my bag on my bed and didn't pack anything, since I didn't have much to pack anyway.
I watched with interest as Ciro fiddled with his record player. I said, "You really like this thing? Young people listen to MP4s now, who still uses this?"
Xiluo's expression suddenly turned serious. He looked at me intently and said in a low voice, "This...this is the only thing my parents left me! It belonged to my father; it was his favorite thing."
"You...you're from China? Or are you a local...?"
“I was born here.” Xiluo smiled. He was very handsome, tall and fair-skinned, a very dashing man, but his eyes were somewhat melancholy. “My father came to Canada with Eighth Master, but he died young.”
I didn't say anything.
Xiluo smiled brightly, then suddenly winked: "Want to hear something interesting?"
"Um?"
He pulled out a vinyl record. I noticed the cover looked odd—it was multicolored, a bright red. He had already adjusted the speakers, then opened the window and pointed the record player's speakers towards the street outside!
They turned the volume up to the maximum again!
A short while later, powerful and majestic music came out of the record player's speaker!
Then a very pleasant and deep baritone voice began to recite in a tone full of deep emotion...
"Qinyuanchun: Snow"
Northern scenery
A thousand miles of ice
Snowflakes drift for miles
...
..."
I was stunned!
Holy crap!
This is actually an antique copy of Chairman Mao's poetry recitation with background music!
And so, on this bright and sunny afternoon, the sound echoed through the streets of Vancouver, this "capitalist world"...
Part 1: In the Martial World, Not in Control of One's Own Fate - Chapter 137 Opportunity
Judging from Xiluo's age, his father must have been born in the 1950s. In that era, almost everyone in the country regarded Chairman Mao as an idol, so it's not surprising that Xiluo's father owned this vinyl record.
Just being in a foreign land, hearing Chairman Mao's poems resounding through the streets and alleys of the capitalist world, evoked a kind of exhilarating feeling that is hard to describe...
I suddenly had a crazy idea: if I ever had the chance to go to the United States, I heard that people are allowed to demonstrate in front of the White House in Washington, D.C., as long as the procedures are legal… So one day, I really want to carry a record player to the White House, point the speaker at the White House windows, and play Chairman Mao's poems all day long! Let the poems of the great revolutionary leader resound throughout the heart of this capitalist hegemony!
Young people are all crazy. I casually mentioned this idea to Ciro, and he got excited and readily agreed. That's how I quickly became acquainted with this guy.
Eighth Master's place is very good... I can't quite put my finger on why it's so good. I always feel that the atmosphere here is like a state-owned enterprise in China twenty years ago, or like the military.
Everyone lived in the dormitory, ate communal meals, and the atmosphere was great.
In the evening, Xiluo took me to the "dining hall".
I found the word somewhat amusing.
canteen!
This word is rarely heard even in China now. Even some large, old state-owned enterprises or universities have changed their name to "restaurant".
The canteen here is actually a large warehouse that has been converted. There are several rows of tables and chairs inside, and everyone carries a plastic plate and goes to the window to get their food.
The food was good; pork meatballs stewed with cabbage, and the rice was still a bit hard, but I was very satisfied. I saw Eighth Master eating here too, but I didn't see Seventh Uncle. It seemed Seventh Uncle had disappeared somewhere.
Eighth Master sat at the front of the table, where there were five or six other people. They were all around his age, men in their fifties. They ate and talked in hushed tones. Eighth Master's expression was somewhat serious, and his face looked rather gloomy.
The other people, all wearing the work clothes from the auto repair shop, walked past Master Ba's table with their plates, instinctively tiptoeing and not daring to make a fuss.
I could tell that these people's respect for Master Ba was genuine!
I waited for two days. I stayed here for two days. But Eighth Master never contacted me again.
For the past two days, I've been assigned to wash cars in the garage. My job is to carry buckets of water and wash each car clean.
I do my work in the morning and finish at 3 pm. After that, I go to the underground gym with Xiluo and the others to work out.
When I first arrived here, I felt very at ease. The atmosphere was great, and I felt like I had found my tribe, like I had found home.
But after two days, I felt a bit depressed again.
Because! I didn't come to Canada to get my car washed!
I don't know what Master Ba wants to do with me, or what he wants me to do. But I'm certain of my own thoughts: I traveled thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean, not just to become a lowly car washer!
I started to feel a little down. But I only felt slightly happier when I practiced boxing with Xiluo and the others in the afternoon.
These rough, tough guys around me are all really nice people! I work out with them every day, and occasionally we'll have a couple of bouts in boxing gloves and hoods, work up a good sweat, and then a dozen or so of us will shower together naked. It feels really good.
However, when Xiluo asked me for guidance on boxing techniques, I hesitated for a moment before telling him that my punch was a deadly move taught by my master. It couldn't be easily passed on to others. This wasn't because I was stingy, but because I couldn't break my master's rules.
Xiluo was a little disappointed, but he got over it after a while. I couldn't teach him that heavy-handed move, but I could teach him some traditional martial arts techniques. This kid has a real talent for sports; his flexibility and coordination are top-notch, and he's willing to work hard. Even when I first taught him the horse stance, he only complained a few times at first, but then he actually gritted his teeth and persevered!
The other men were all laughing so hard they were practically falling over, but only the younger ones were laughing; the older ones, in their thirties or forties, didn't. I could tell these men were perceptive; they knew this was real skill.
The days passed carelessly. A week went by, and Eighth Master still hadn't contacted me.
And these past few days, I haven't even seen Eighth Master. He hasn't come to the cafeteria for meals anymore... I even suspect he's forgotten about me. I've been using my daily work as a way to vent... even my boxing practice has become a way to vent! When I'm boxing with those guys, my punches are getting more and more violent.
"Depend on!"
I delivered a side kick, my leg sweeping out like a whirlwind. Although Xiluo had raised his arms to protect his chest, I still managed to knock him to the ground. He couldn't help but curse, then lay panting heavily on the ground: "Are you crazy! Why have you been acting like you've eaten gunpowder these past two days?"
I stood there, gritted my teeth, threw away my boxing gloves, and then went over and reached out to help him up.
I feel like there's a fire burning inside me! It's been raging inside me for the past two days, making me feel terrible! I'm going crazy from holding it in!
Without saying a word, I pulled Xiluo up and shook my head to signal him to stop fighting.
I felt my emotions were off, and if I continued fighting, I was afraid I would hurt Ciro.
To be honest, after a week of good food and drink, I feel like my body has basically fully recovered. And I've been exercising every day this week… You know, back in China, I had such a comfortable life that I hadn't exercised in ages!
My face was grim as I slowly walked to the corner. A guy was hitting a sandbag. I went over to him, patted him on the shoulder, and gestured for him to move aside. He turned around, glanced at me, and immediately stepped back.
This week I've had a few boxing matches with these guys. Apart from two or three old guys and Ciro, who could hold their own against me for a while, the others basically couldn't last two rounds. The way they look at me now is very different from when I first arrived.
I hugged the sandbag to keep it from swaying, and then slowly backed away, one step, two steps, three steps.
I took a deep breath and then did two warm-up exercises on the spot.
At this point, the people around me realized that I might be about to do something, and some of them stopped what they were doing and looked in my direction.
I took a few deep breaths, then suddenly exhaled loudly and shouted! Then I quickly darted towards the sandbag, and when I was about two or three steps away from it, I pushed off the ground with my feet!
I sprang up, and then, in mid-air, I twisted my waist and lifted my leg for a spinning side kick!
The muffled thud echoed throughout the entire underground gym almost instantly, and then the sandbag was seen to shake violently before flying out with a snap!
The rope hanging above snapped instantly, and the sandbag slammed heavily against the corner of the wall, its outer leather ripped off, and the sand inside spilled all over the ground!
"Holy crap!" The first to exclaim was Ciro, followed by a collective gasp from the entire audience. I heard someone whisper, "Damn, is this kid even human? He's Bruce Lee reincarnated...!"
Others laughed and cursed, "Are you an idiot? This is real kung fu! It's something from our ancestors!"
After Xiluo called out, he stared straight at me, watching me stand there panting, the muscles on my face twitching.
At this moment, our leader, the oldest middle-aged man, came over, patted Xiluo on the back, and said to him, "Xiao Wu's mood hasn't been right these past few days. Don't spar with him anymore, or you'll hurt yourself."
After showering, Xiluo and I had dinner and went back to our room. Suddenly, Xiluo remembered something and exclaimed, "Damn, that's right! There's a battle report tonight! Look!"
"What battle report?" I was taken aback.
Xilu shook his head: "Didn't you hear what they were talking about during dinner last night? We had a fight with the Vietnamese!"
I shook my head. I was so preoccupied with my own frustration during the meal that I had no interest in listening to their conversation.
Ciro had already turned on the very old television, and it was in color! He then tuned to a channel and saw a female announcer who looked to be Asian reporting the news.
To my surprise, she spoke in Chinese. Xiluo smiled and explained, "This is Vancouver! A quarter of Vancouver's population is Asian, with Chinese making up the majority, so there are Chinese TV programs and Chinese newspapers here!"
I nodded.
Xiluo stopped talking to me and focused on watching TV. Then, he excitedly shouted, "It's here! It's here!"
"...This is a news report from our station..." The female announcer on television reported in a serious tone: "In the early hours of this morning, a horrific shooting and murder occurred at a gas station in East Hastings, this city! Two Asian men were suddenly shot multiple times by an unidentified gunman while parking their cars!"