Huayu 1992: Starting with the CCTV Young Singers Competition

Chapter 99 These human traffickers deserve to be shot.

The crowd stirred.

Lin Hanjiang looked in the direction of the sound and saw a young woman in her twenties running wildly through the crowd like a madwoman, her hair disheveled and her face pale.

She grabbed someone and asked, "Have you seen my child? So small, wrapped in a red blanket."

People around looked at each other, some shaking their heads, others avoiding eye contact.

"She was just in my arms, and I turned around to buy tickets—"

The woman collapsed to the ground, wailing loudly.

Lin Hanjiang's heart tightened.

He recalled the middle-aged woman on the train whose money had been stolen, and the despair she felt was exactly the same.

But this time it wasn't money, it was the children.

Just as he was about to step forward to ask, he caught a glimpse of a suspicious figure out of the corner of his eye.

A man in a gray shirt, carrying a package, was walking briskly towards the alley on the west side of the square.

A corner of a red blanket peeked out from the package, matching the woman's description.

"stop!"

Lin Hanjiang blurted it out.

The man in the gray shirt froze, but instead of stopping, he started running.

Lin Hanjiang slung his canvas bag over his shoulder and took off chasing after him.

"Stop him, he's trying to snatch the child."

At this shout, more than a dozen people around turned to look.

The man in the gray shirt had already run more than twenty meters and was about to disappear into the alley.

"Stop the one holding the child!" a loud voice rang out.

The old man selling sugarcane at the alley entrance instinctively stretched out his carrying pole and placed it across the middle of the road.

The man in the gray shirt stopped abruptly and nearly tripped.

In that short delay, Lin Hanjiang had already closed the distance to within five meters.

The man turned around abruptly, his face contorted with rage, and pulled something from his waist with his right hand.

It gleamed coldly in the June sunlight.

It's a knife.

"Get out of the way, come on up if you're not afraid of dying."

The man roared, pointing the knife at Lin Hanjiang.

The crowd instantly parted to form a circle.

Some people gasped, while others cried out and stepped back.

Lin Hanjiang stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding like a drum.

He stared at the package in the man's arms; it stirred and emitted a faint crying sound.

The child is still alive.

"Put the child down."

Lin Hanjiang's voice trembled slightly, but he did not back down.

He wasn't some special forces soldier from a novel, nor did he possess any ancient martial arts skills.

Should we go up and take the knife?

Absolutely impossible.

"With so many people watching, you can't escape."

I'll stab you to death.

The man's eyes were bloodshot as he swung his knife and took a step forward.

The surrounding crowd retreated another circle.

The old man selling sugarcane hesitated, holding his carrying pole.

The motorcyclists exchanged glances, none of them daring to be the first to go.

"Call the police! Go call the police!" someone shouted.

Upon hearing this, the man panicked even more, the tip of his knife trembling: "Get out of the way, all of you get out of my way!"

He moved step by step toward the alley entrance.

Lin Hanjiang's mind raced.

A direct confrontation is definitely not an option; this knife doesn't discriminate.

But once he carried the child into the alley, it would be difficult to find him again.

In places like Guangzhou, the alleys are so intricate that once you enter, it's like disappearing into thin air.

Just as the stalemate was at hand, the child's cries suddenly intensified.

The wailing sounded particularly jarring in the tense atmosphere.

"Baby—my baby—"

The woman also caught up, and upon seeing this scene, her legs went weak and she almost collapsed, but was supported by someone nearby.

"My child, give me back my child!"

She screamed and tried to rush forward, but was held back tightly.

"Don't go, sister, he has a knife."

The man became even more agitated by the woman's cries and stumbled as he backed away.

In that very instant.

"superior!"

The old man selling sugarcane suddenly sprang to his feet, swinging his dark carrying pole in a wide arc and smashing it hard against the man's arm holding the knife.

"Bang!"

The knife fell to the ground with a thud, and the man screamed as his arm went limp.

The bundle in his arms loosened and was about to fall.

Lin Hanjiang almost instinctively lunged forward and caught the red package before the child hit the ground.

It felt heavy in my hand, and the little face inside the blanket was flushed red as she cried with her mouth open.

"My child!"

The woman broke free from his support and rushed over like a madwoman.

Just as Lin Hanjiang was about to hand the child over, he caught a glimpse of the man getting up from the ground and picking up a knife with his left hand.

"Be careful!"

Lin Hanjiang pushed the woman and child behind him and stood in front of them.

The man didn't attack again. He covered his right arm, glared fiercely at Lin Hanjiang, and turned to rush into the alley.

"Chase them!"

"Don't let him get away!"

Several young men realized what was happening and chased after him into the alley.

Lin Hanjiang did not pursue.

He looked down at his hands, which were trembling.

I didn't feel anything when I picked up my child, but now I feel scared.

The knife was less than a meter away from him at its closest point.

"Thank you—thank you—"

The woman knelt down, holding her child whom she had lost and found again, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls.

"If I lose my child—I don't want to live anymore—"

Lin Hanjiang quickly helped her up: "Sister, get up quickly, it's good that the child is alright."

More and more people gathered around, chattering, "This young man is really brave."

"That human trafficker is despicable."

"He should be killed."

"Have the police arrived?"

Lin Hanjiang suddenly realized something.

When the police arrive, they take a statement and require your cooperation in the investigation. This whole process takes up half a day.

He has more important things to do today.

"Big sister, please take good care of the child."

As Lin Hanjiang spoke, he slung his canvas bag over his shoulder and prepared to leave.

"My benefactor, what is your name?" the woman asked, holding her child.

Lin Hanjiang waved his hand, didn't turn around, and quickly squeezed out of the crowd.

He found a motorcycle taxi on the edge of the train station square. The driver was a dark-skinned young man who was leaning against the motorcycle smoking.

"Handsome, let's go to Guangdong TV station," Lin Hanjiang asked.

The driver looked him up and down and asked in broken Mandarin, "15 yuan."

"How much?" Lin Hanjiang was taken aback.

Wang Dali once said on the train that motorcycle taxis in Guangzhou usually cost only two or three yuan.

"15 yuan, no bargaining."

The driver flicked away the cigarette ash.

"You seem to be in a hurry, this price is fair."

Lin Hanjiang glanced behind him and saw that some people were looking in his direction, probably looking for him.

He gritted his teeth and said, "Let's go!"

The motorcycle sputtered to life and drove away from the train station.

There are quite a lot of cars on this road near the train station, so drive slowly and you'll feel the hot wind blowing in your face.

Lin Hanjiang looked back at the train station square that was gradually receding into the distance.

"What was that commotion over there?" the driver suddenly asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. "I heard someone tried to snatch a child?"

"Mm," Lin Hanjiang replied briefly.

"You saw it?"

The driver was silent for a moment, then said, "Guangzhou Railway Station is a mess. Last month, my cousin brought her child here, and she was almost kidnapped. These human traffickers deserve to be shot."

Lin Hanjiang replied, "He should indeed be executed."

1

He watched the street scene rush past, and tall buildings gradually appeared.

Unlike Beijing, the buildings here are more brightly colored, GG signs are more densely packed, and the pedestrians on the street are dressed more flamboyantly.

The women were wearing dresses, and many also wore sun hats, which is not common in the north.

"Is this your first time in Guangzhou?" the driver asked again.

"Um.

""

Looking for a job?

I guess so.

The driver chuckled: "You northerners are all like that, not talkative. Eight out of ten of the northern passengers I pick up are looking for work, in electronics factories, garment factories, construction sites—there are especially many this year."

"Are you from out of town too?" Lin Hanjiang asked.

"I'm from Shaoguan, it's not too far. I've been here for three years."

The driver skillfully turned into a side alley, taking a shortcut.

"I started out working in a factory, but it was too tiring. It was much more comfortable to drive a motorcycle taxi."

Motorcycles weave through the alleyways, flanked by densely packed buildings that seem to be just a handshake away.

The buildings are so close together that you can shake hands, and all kinds of clothes are drying on the balconies.

The children were chasing and playing in the alley, speaking Cantonese, which Lin Hanjiang couldn't understand.

"Can you speak Cantonese?" Lin Hanjiang asked.

"I know a little, enough to do business," the driver said.

At the end of the alley, the view suddenly opened up, revealing a wide road.

The driver pointed to a tall building in the distance: "Look, that's Guangdong TV Station."

Lin Hanjiang looked in the direction he pointed.

It was a building with more than ten floors, which was considered a landmark in Guangzhou in the early 1990s.

There is a huge antenna on the roof, and the building is covered with white tiles.

Not long after, the motorcycle stopped outside the TV station gate.

Lin Hanjiang was about to pay when the driver felt a little embarrassed, as they had been having a good chat.

"Actually, 10 yuan is fine too."

They really rip off customers.