Inside the restaurant.
After the three of them took their seats, Lao Mao ordered three dishes—two meat, one vegetable—along with a half-catty bottle of the cheapest bottom-shelf liquor.
“No need to save money on my account. Order a couple more,” Qin Yu offered, his politeness entirely superficial.
“Forget it. You just got here and haven’t even drawn a salary yet. This is plenty.” Though Lao Mao spoke a bit bluntly, he clearly wasn’t a bad guy. He rubbed his dry, cold hands together, looking up at Qin Yu. “Heard you came from the Unplanned Zone?”
“Yeah,” Qin Yu nodded.
“Must have been tough over there, huh?”
“Nothing too tough about it. The thing about people is, they get used to anything,” Qin Yu smiled. “Once you adapt, everywhere is the same.”
“True enough.”
“…”
All three were young, so conversation flowed easily without any generation gap. Since Lao Mao and Qin Yu were both outgoing and quick to joke, they warmed up to each other fast. During the chat, Qin Yu noticed another detail: through both body language and tone, Qi Lin was acting like a total bootlicker toward Lao Mao, keeping his posture incredibly subservient.
Once the food and drinks arrived, Qin Yu raised his glass. “We’ve sat at the same table, so we’re friends. I’m new here, so let’s keep in touch. We look out for each other.”
“Nothing much to look out for. These days, if you have the skills, you eat meat wherever you go. If you’re useless, no amount of looking out for you will help.” Lao Mao gave a brutally honest reply, then raised his glass with a grin. “But keeping in touch is a given. Just for the fact that you dared to stand up to Lao San and his crew, we can be friends.”
“Heh,” Qin Yu smiled. “Bottoms up.”
“Bottoms up.”
“Bottoms up!”
The three raised their glasses and downed their drinks.
“Come on, let’s pour some more.” Qi Lin wiped his mouth, grabbing the bottle to refill Lao Mao’s glass. “Brother, about that thing I mentioned last time… can it be sorted out?”
Lao Mao rolled his eyes. He picked up a tiny slice of beef with his chopsticks and teased, “You’re too damn crafty. Xiao Yu is treating, and you’re the one asking for favors. Did you hog all the scheming genes?”
Qi Lin didn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. He just scratched his head and replied, “Isn’t it… because money’s tight right now?”
“Fuck, when is your money not tight?” Lao Mao chewed his food, frowning. “Sigh, I asked around about your situation. There are no vacancies in the clerical department right now. If you want in, you’ve got to pay off the right people. But you don’t have the cash for bribes, so you’ll just have to wait.”
Qin Yu was taken aback and asked curiously, “Why do you have to switch to clerical work?”
“Because he’s a coward.” Lao Mao curled his lip. “Last year, the Police Department reported the numbers up the chain. In six months, we lost thirty-five men in this area. The world is too chaotic right now. He feels out of his depth in Team One and wants a lighter gig.”
“Oh, I see.” Qin Yu’s face showed zero surprise. Compared to the Unplanned Zone, things here were far more peaceful.
Lao Mao turned to Qi Lin, a hint of disdain in his eyes as he lectured him. “Qi Lin, you need to understand something. The environment has changed. If you don’t fight, if you don’t put your life on the line, when will you ever turn your luck around? Even if I get you a desk job, you don’t have connections up top. Wouldn’t you just get squeezed out again after a while? How does the saying go? The times produce their heroes. Let’s not look too far—take Yuan Ke’s older brother. Before the Ninth District was established, what kind of nobody was he? But when the world went to hell, he skyrocketed. Now, in the Black Street area, nobody dares mess with him, right? He’s married six wives. Who did he rely on? Nobody but himself!”
“I definitely can’t compare to him,” Qi Lin grinned. “I just want to scrape by, stay healthy, and make enough to feed my mom and my sister. That’s enough for me.”
“That’s all the ambition you have.” Lao Mao sighed in frustration. “I got you transferred to Team One. I thought you’d find an opportunity to make something of yourself. But who would have guessed you’d spend every day washing other people’s socks, fetching tea, pouring water… Look at yourself. No wonder people punch you just because they’re bored. You don’t even stand on equal footing with them. How can you talk about networking? Is that how you make friends?”
Qi Lin lowered his head and said nothing.
“Sigh. You’ve got such a spineless personality, yet your old man names you Qi Lin. And me? I’m so damn outstanding, yet my mom names me Li Fugui… Tell me… where the fuck is the justice in that?” Lao Mao shook his head, lamenting.
“Alright, enough about that. Let’s talk about something else,” Qin Yu interjected, smoothing things over.
With that said, Qi Lin dropped the subject of his job transfer. The three of them drank and chatted, and the time slipped by.
Around 9 PM, Qi Lin glanced down at another incoming text message and abruptly spoke up. “Something came up at home. I’ve got to take off. See you tomorrow.”
“Not going to stick around for a few more drinks?” Qin Yu asked.
“Can’t. I need to head back.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No need, I can go by myself.”
“Take it easy.”
“Will do.”
“…”
After exchanging a few quick pleasantries, Qi Lin grabbed his phone and hurried out. Qin Yu and Lao Mao, who clearly wasn’t in a rush to leave, stayed in their seats and kept drinking.
“Lao Mao, if we can sit together and share a drink, we’re friends,” Qin Yu advised, his face slightly flushed from the alcohol. “Save some face for Qi Lin in the future.”
“Was I insulting him? I was trying to wake his ass up!” Lao Mao tapped the table aggressively, hitting the nail on the head. “If a man stays on his knees for too long, he forgets how to stand. You get me?”
Qin Yu grew thoughtful at those words and gave a subconscious nod.
“He’s my only friend in the Police Department. It frustrates me to watch him,” Lao Mao shook his head, knowing when to drop it. “Forget it, enough about him. I’m gonna go handle some real business.”
“What business?” Qin Yu paused.
“I’ve been observing that girl over there. She probably isn’t romantically involved with any of those four guys.” Lao Mao blinked, lowering his voice. “I think it’s time to make my move.”
Qin Yu was completely lost. “Which girl?”
“Fuck, how are you this blind? The one who got out of the car at the entrance,” Lao Mao grinned widely. “She is smoking hot. I got hard three times just glancing at her. Hey, doesn’t she look like that old-world celebrity? Jun Ji-hyun… Tall, with legs for days.”
Qin Yu broke a sweat. “Buddy, reel it in. Things aren’t like they used to be, the streets are messy right now…”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m just gonna test the waters!” Lao Mao rubbed his palms together, stood up with a sleazy swagger, and shuffled toward the window table, keeping his legs pressed together at the crotch.
…
Outside.
Standing by the curb, Qi Lin took two deep drags from his e-cigarette. After hesitating for a long time, he finally pulled out his phone to call Qin Yu. But just as his thumb hovered over the screen, he remembered that Qin Yu’s new phone wasn’t hooked up to the comms system yet. He had no choice but to pull up Lao Mao’s number instead.
…
Inside the restaurant.
Lao Mao smoothed his parted hair and strolled up to the table by the window. Flashing a smile at the girl, he asked, “Hey, hello gorgeous. Eating out with the family?”
The girl had been constantly glancing out the window. Hearing Lao Mao, she turned her head, a confused look in her eyes. “Can I… help you?”
“It’s like this. Heh, I’m a program director for the TV station’s Star Anchor program. We’re holding auditions right now. Care to learn a bit more?” Lao Mao spouted absolute nonsense without batting an eye.
The moment he finished speaking, the short, middle-aged man sitting opposite the girl shot his companion a bizarre look and asked in Japanese: “Delivery man?”
His companion glanced at Lao Mao and gave a slight frown. “That’s not the code phrase.”
As the two men conversed, the girl quickly snapped back to reality. Her pretty face lit up with enthusiasm as she responded to Lao Mao. “Really? From the TV station? What a coincidence! I’m actually studying to be a host.”
Lao Mao hadn’t expected the girl to take the bait so smoothly. His eyes lit up instantly as he kept running his mouth. “That’s perfect! Do you have a contact number? Leave it with me, and we can chat about it privately later.”
While speaking, Lao Mao had already whipped out the phone he’d prepped beforehand and handed it to the girl. It was his personal phone, not the one the police force required them to buy.
The girl took the phone and lowered her head to punch in a number.
“Smack!”
The short middle-aged man stood up and firmly grabbed the girl’s arm. His brows knitted together. “Give him the phone back. Eat.”
“Uncle, I’m actually really interested,” the girl smiled, looking up at him.
“I told you to give the phone back,” the short man repeated coldly.
Lao Mao tilted his head, giving the man a broad smile. “I really am from the TV station. Don’t be so tense, I don’t mean any harm.”
The girl hesitated for a second, then promptly handed the phone back to Lao Mao with an apologetic smile. “I’ll pass then. Sorry about that.”
Seeing how receptive the girl was, Lao Mao had been practically blooming with joy inside. But with this unromantic little goblin jumping in to ruin the mood, he felt instantly irritated and opened his mouth, ready to push his luck.
“Never mind. Thank you,” the girl insisted.
Lao Mao froze. He stared at the girl for two seconds, then flashed a tight grin. “If it’s a no-go, then it’s a no-go. Sorry to bother you.”
…
One minute later.
Lao Mao bent down and sat across from Qin Yu, a strange look in his eyes.
“Got shot down, huh? Heh,” Qin Yu asked, picking up a piece of food with his chopsticks.
Lao Mao blinked a few times, then kicked Qin Yu’s leg under the table. “Look down.”
Startled, Qin Yu glanced under the table. Lao Mao was holding his phone in his right hand, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Look at the screen.”
Qin Yu looked over. Typed into the dialer screen were the numbers “959595.”
“What’s that mean?” Qin Yu was totally lost.
Lao Mao rubbed his cheek with his left hand, staring at the floor. “Fuck… we just stumbled into some deep shit.”
“You mean…?”
“Those four guys and the girl definitely aren’t together. She kicked me under the table back there.” Lao Mao pocketed his phone and took a sip of his liquor. “I can’t figure out their angle… but something is absolutely off. That girl is asking us to save her.”
Over by the window table, the short man checked his watch, his face grim as he whispered to his companion, “That guy just now. Was it a chance encounter, or were they testing the waters?”
“Hard to say,” his companion shook his head.
“He looked like an idiot.” The short man glanced uneasily. “The time has passed. We aren’t waiting anymore. Let’s move.”
“Good.” His companion nodded, shooting the girl a cold, hard look. “Don’t try anything. Come with us.”
Fine beads of sweat dotted the girl’s fair forehead. She stole a quick glance before nodding at the man.
A short distance away.
Lao Mao rubbed his face, looking worried as he whispered to Qin Yu. “What do we do? Are we stepping in or not?”
“Screech!”
At that exact moment, an all-electric car stopped outside the restaurant entrance.
Language Note: Qi Lin sounds like qilin, an auspicious mythical creature; Fugui means wealth and status. The digits 95 (jiu wu) echo jiu wo, ‘save me,’ so 959595 repeats the plea.