Electronic Nezha

Chapter 206 Experiential Learning

After we finished eating, Ma Chaoran had to go back to her "work unit" to take a look, and I had to go back to my stall as well. Ma Fugui naturally followed me.

As they parted at the door, Ma Chaoran suddenly said to Ma Fugui, "Dad, don't try to trick Lao Liu into saying anything. This is the rule!"

I drove my little electric scooter to the market, and Ma Fugui sat in the passenger seat, looking at this and touching that, and said: "You're pretty low-key, aren't you? French and German cars don't catch your eye, huh?"

"Huh?" I didn't react for a moment, my mind was full of thoughts about how to introduce him. I couldn't just take an old man to a stall and then just sit back and do nothing. So I asked him, "Do you know how to sell things?"

"Go into sales?"

"Almost there. I sell fruit; I'll be there when we get there—"

Ma Fugui waved his hand: "No need to rehearse beforehand. I can do whatever you ask me to do. Put on a tie and I'm a diplomat. If needed, I'll become a vagrant fighting with homeless people for territory at night. That's how I've lived my whole life. If I can't even handle this little thing of yours, then my nickname 'Canglang' is meaningless."

"Let me first introduce my situation to you..."

"No need!" Ma Fugui said irritably, "If I say too much, it will sound like I'm trying to trick you into telling me things."

"I don't usually hire people, just say you're a relative of mine." I still needed to think of my explanation first. As Old Wang gets older, he seems to be experiencing a career crisis, and I can't let him think that I'm looking down on him because he's old and unattractive and am looking to find someone to replace him...

Ma Fugui said, "Anyway, I'll follow you wherever you go and keep you alive. Actually, I like these kinds of missions the most. Apart from risking my life, I don't have to use my brain. I treat it like a vacation." He emphasized, "Let me make this clear: when there's no danger, I'll listen to you. When there's danger, you listen to me. If I tell you to run, you run. Don't worry about anyone else's life or death."

"Okay... Old Ma has already told me once."

"For the people in the Sixth Bureau to treat you like this, you'd better have some huge secret on you!"

When we arrived at the market entrance, I led Ma Fugui inside, and I could tell he was a little confused.

Old Wang was busy. He had borrowed a flatbed cart and parked it in front of his stall. He was loading several boxes of various fruits, ranging from high-end to low-end, onto the cart. When he saw me, he greeted me and said, "Weren't you supposed to be back tomorrow?"

"Reporter Ma has to go back to the office, so he left early." I asked, "What are you doing here?"

"The New Year's shopping festival opens tomorrow. We can get things in today. I'm thinking of not letting the trucks go there. Let's move some of the inventory in the warehouse over there first, and test the waters tomorrow to see what the market is like."

"You'll pass," I praised him.

Old Wang peeked out from behind me and said, "Uncle, what would you like to order?" He mistook Old Ma for a customer.

I quickly introduced him, saying, "This is a relative of mine. You're right to call him 'uncle.' He'll be helping out at the stall in the future."

Sure enough, Old Wang frowned.

Ma Fugui stepped forward and said, "My surname is Ma. I'm not exactly a relative of Boss Liu. I used to work the night shift, but my job was recently terminated, so I came here to earn some pocket money. I won't be here for long; I'll leave after the New Year."

Old Wang's expression softened considerably. Just as he reached into his pocket to take out a cigarette, Ma Fugui had already opened the cigarette pack and said, "Take one of these from me." After giving it to Old Wang, he handed it to me.

I waved my hands vigorously: "I just put it out." Although Ma Chaoran said there was no such thing as truth serum, I was still suspicious. You see, after those two old men smoked each other's cigarettes, they seemed to be really talking about what was on their minds...

Old Wang, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, went back inside to move more goods. Ma Fugui glanced at me and said, "So this is your business? I thought you'd be some kind of domineering CEO."

"Who says I am not? This is just a part of my business."

"I knew it! You had other businesses too?"

I pointed to the fruit stand next to me: "That's mine too, but I've rented it out." "Cough cough cough." Ma Fugui coughed, choked by the smoke.

Just then, Old Wang came out carrying two boxes and said to Ma Fugui with a smile, "Uncle Ma, let's stretch our legs together."

Ma Fugui smiled ingratiatingly and said, "Look at my sharp eyes, here I come!" He then quickly followed him into the house to move the goods.

It turns out that Old Wang had sent out a mover invitation...

I just realized it myself.

This is the principle of two monks carrying water together. If you want to earn this money, you have to do this work. Old Wang is not a petty person, but he is a typical sufferer. In this kind of job, there is no such thing as respecting the elderly and caring for the young. Those who move houses for others often work in groups of three or five, and split the money equally. You say you are 60 years old this year, can you move one or two less items? Once or twice is no problem, but in the long run, who will want to team up with you?
This is the industry standard, this is life.

Fortunately, Ma Fugui was also very worldly-wise and immediately understood what Lao Wang meant. Besides playing the roles of a diplomat and a vagrant, this old man had probably also done some kind of mission as a mover.

I offered to help with the move, but both of them refused. I used to do this kind of work a lot before Ma Fugui came along. Now, two workers are serving one boss, so there's competition. That's why the emperor has been learning the art of balance since childhood. He's not afraid of factional strife or infighting; he's only afraid of one person becoming too powerful. Follow me, this fruit vendor, and you'll learn from me.

The goods were all loaded onto the flatbed truck. I asked Lao Wang to stay at the stall while the two of us went into the condiment market to unload the goods.

On the way there, I steered from the front while Ma Fugui pushed the bike from behind.

"Okay! Liu Laoliu is a good guy. I thought he meant 'work' in a general way, but I didn't expect him to actually do it!" Ma Fugui complained as he pushed the cart.

I said apologetically, "I'm sorry to have troubled Senior Canglang."

"How long have you been doing this? — If you think I'm trying to trick you into telling me, that's fine too." Along the way, people from the market kept greeting me. He probably realized that this was my base of operations.

"Two generations."

I suddenly felt the flatbed cart sink. It turned out that Ma Fugui had stopped in place. He straightened up and said, "I'm asking you, how did Ma Chaoran fall for you?"

I said speechlessly, "Isn't this fake?"

Ma Fugui said, "Precisely because it's fake, it has to be believable. What are your circumstances? You're an older divorcee with a child, living a simple life at a fruit stand."

"I think... your summary is particularly insightful!"

"So it doesn't make sense! Ma Chaoran's public identity is that of a reporter. My daughter could find anyone with her figure, looks, and abilities, so why would she choose you?"

I feel like I'm being stalked by an overweight, slow-moving fly. I feel a sense of helplessness, like I've managed to get a hold of it but I'm just a hair's breadth away, like I've swatted it away but it keeps lingering. The answer I give is like the hand that swung out to swat the fly; it seems to work, but when the fly comes back and buzzes around my head, I'm still just as bothered.

"Because... it's fake." I had no choice but to wave the flies away again.

Ma Fugui could tell that my mind was completely blank, so he patiently said, "When I said I thought you were particularly rich, it wasn't because I wanted anything from you—if you were really that rich, people would believe it if you found a young and beautiful woman at your age. But you're poor, old, and have a child. Why would any girl like you? I didn't mean to offend you. I'm an experiential agent, and I value the plausibility of things. Do you have any other explanation for this?"

I said, "So you mean Ma Chaoran is a vain girl?"

"Whether she's that kind of girl or not, you and I know in our hearts, but others don't. Don't you have to rely on the greatest common denominator of your circle of relatives and friends? Don't the people in the Sixth Division follow basic behavioral logic when they do things?"

I pointed to the flatbed truck lane: "Our task now is to haul this truckload of goods to the destination and unload it. Does it make sense for us to suddenly start chatting in the middle of the road?"

Ma Fugui said, "You're right, I was a bit careless." He bent down again and pushed the driveway. "Let's get back to work."

(End of this chapter)