False evidence

Chapter 90 A Testament to Love

I could only nod in admiration.

This bald guy's vulgar appearance is definitely just a disguise.

On the other hand, if he were truly a fool and stubborn, wouldn't he have lost everything if he opened a business at Dongtaimen?
The cabinet, as large as a double-door refrigerator, was completely empty.

This time, without Lü Xin's prompting, I figured out the key point.

"With so many traps and mechanisms, if there really is some treasure hidden underground, I'd better not look."

"No way, even if I hid mountains of gold and silver, I'd still let you see them."

As Yan Fengwei spoke, he squatted down next to the cabinet again and moved the bottom board out entirely.

I thought to myself: Strange things are really piling up. In less than a month, I've already seen people digging cellars in their houses twice, and both times it was in the kitchen!
I didn't go down to see what the cellar at Fu Ansheng's house in Zhulin Villa was like.

What Yan Fengwei's house has is less of a cellar and more of a hidden basement.

He definitely put in a lot of effort; I bet the lights underneath would turn on as soon as the sliding door opened.

By the light, you could roughly see that there were quite a few things piled up below.

Seeing Yan Fengwei turn around and look at me, I paused for a moment and asked him, "Aren't you afraid I'll steal your things if you don't get down?"

Yan Fengwei rubbed his bald head: "You've been so helpful to us, if there's anyone you really like, just ask and I'll definitely give it to you. But... if I don't come down with you, wouldn't that be a bit unfair?"

Meng Zhen stamped her foot and said, "No! If you all go down, what if that thing escapes?"

I was stunned for a moment, then realized what I meant and couldn't help but laugh: "In broad daylight, are you really afraid that a ghost will crawl out from below?"

I didn't want to linger with her, so I went straight down the metal stairs.

Yan Fengwei's new home is definitely a luxury mansion; the kitchen alone is as big as my bedroom.

The area below is almost the same as the area above.

There were indeed quite a few things stored underneath; there were five modular metal shelves alone.

I glanced at it briefly and found it strange.

Seeing Yan Fengwei come down, I asked him, "Do you have a collecting hobby? Do you like vases?"

I asked this because, apart from the two outermost shelves which were piled with some tattered cardboard boxes, the three inner shelves and the floor were filled with vases.

The smallest one is no bigger than the palm of my hand, while the two largest ones are placed in the corner, almost as tall as me.

The problem is, these vases don't look like antiques at all. The two large ones are a given; people in ancient times wouldn't have been so bored as to make such things. The shelf at the very back is entirely filled with glass vases.

The most unsightly thing was that there was a stack of plastic buckets on the ground next to it.

Yan Fengwei suddenly let out a long sigh:

“These things may seem like junk to you, but to me, they are more valuable than everything else here, plus all the goods in my shop.”

"That's true, money can't buy what you love." Actually, I really don't understand his thinking. Is this what they call being rich and willful?
Yan Fengwei chuckled: "I'm telling you, you can pick anything you want here, just don't touch that last shelf. Also, if you pick any of those plastic buckets, even the worst one on top, I'll definitely argue with you!"

"Why?" I asked, growing increasingly curious. In my opinion, what he was saying was the least valuable thing.

Yan Fengwei offered me a cigarette, lit it for me, and then casually turned on the exhaust fan.

Since it was an almost completely enclosed space, the exhaust fan was quite loud.

Amidst the hum of the spinning fan blades, Yan Fengwei told me about the origins of those "junk items." He really did start out as a street vendor in Panjiayuan, Beijing. During the off-season, he would go to the countryside to hunt for things; in their jargon, this was called "scavenging the ground."

That winter, he traveled around the Jiangnan region, but didn't find many things. Instead, he thought of visiting the city we live in now.

If you're setting up a stall in Panjiayuan, you absolutely have to go to Dongtaimen.

Before we even had a chance to explore the area, we ran into some trouble at the intersection.

As he passed by a shop, a vase was suddenly thrown out and hit him right behind his feet.

It didn't hurt him, but it did ignite his anger.

But after glancing inside the door, he changed his mind and decided not to argue with them.

He was absolutely right—there were just too many people inside. Four or five big men, all of them, couldn't possibly beat them.

"Well, today my son almost cracked my skull open."

He kept repeating Ah Q's famous saying, but deep down he was still resentful, and he couldn't help but peek into the shop again.

Once you see it, you can't take your eyes off it.

It was a flower shop, but it was noisy and chaotic inside.

His second glance revealed a woman arguing with several large men.

The woman was only up to the man's shoulder. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she was arguing with him, her neck stiff and her face flushed. Her voice was hoarse and strained.

According to Yan Fengwei, he fell in love with the woman at first sight, and seeing her being bullied like that aroused his desire to be a hero and save her.

He grabbed a stool from the doorway next door, rushed in, and knocked the biggest guy to the ground.

After taking one down, he ran out, out of the flower shop, into the street, waving a stool and yelling: "Damn it, if you're a man, come out and work your ass off! Is bullying a woman considered a beating?"

What followed was naturally a chaotic battle.

The result of the fight was that the other person walked away triumphantly, while he was beaten to a pulp in the street, his head split open, blood gushing out, a bottomless plastic bucket around his neck, and flowers scattered all around him. He just lay there quietly among the petals...

I couldn't help but laugh: "A true hero!"

Yan Fengwei squinted: "Of course! That bucket was for holding flowers. It cracked my head open, and half a bucket of water soaked me. Brother, getting your head cracked open is a small matter; it was minus four degrees Celsius! My clothes were soaked through. Could you have taken it?"

I nodded: "It is a bit tragic. That 'little flower girl' must be your sister-in-law. What happened afterward? Did you just endure it? Didn't you seek revenge on those people?"

Yan Fengwei slapped his bald head: "Tch, revenge, huh? I'm lucky they didn't send me to the police station. Later I found out those guys were market management."

He pointed upwards: "That stupid old woman, not only did she not pay rent for two months, but she also didn't pay the management fee. She's just acting tough because she's poor. That vase thrown on the street was also the work of that idiot woman!"

"Hey Yan, what the hell are you doing instead of doing your job? What nonsense are you spouting to people?" Meng Zhen cursed from above.

"I'm telling my buddies about your glorious deeds back in the day! When a man is talking, you idiot, don't interrupt!"

Yan Fengwei looked up, smiled, and retorted.

I looked at the vases again and nodded with a smile: "No wonder, these are all the things your sister-in-law used to have when she opened her shop, right?"

"Of course, these are all testaments to our love..."

When he looked down at me, his smile suddenly froze...

(End of this chapter)