My hometown is far away in Moscow.

Chapter 210 The Man in the Cage

The portly policeman opened the passport, glanced at it, and his face darkened. He casually tossed the passport onto the table, and, with a sharp look in his eyes, said, "What's this?"

"This—" Hu Yi saw that he had one hand on the passport, showing no intention of returning it, and his question was rather vague, so he leaned forward and asked, "Is that not allowed?"

"Of course not!" The fat policeman puffed out his beard, glared, and waved his hand. "They're all suspects in today's terrorist attack! Our investigation isn't over yet! Understand? This isn't a joke; it's a very serious matter!"

"Alright, I know." Hu Yi smiled patiently. "Okay, how much?"

"What do you mean, how much? What do you mean, how much!" The fat policeman, reeking of alcohol, got up, went behind the table, pulled out a chair, sat down, and stared at him: "Come back in three days."

Hu Yi was taken aback: "Three days later?"

"Yes." The fat policeman lightly pushed off with his foot, turned his chair around so his back was to them, and muttered loudly to himself, "But the Federal Immigration Bureau will take them all away tomorrow, and we won't know where they are in three days."

Hu Yi turned to look at Da Liu: "Looks like you think the money isn't enough."

"Really?" Da Liu, who had been hiding behind Hu Yi without daring to look up, hesitated upon hearing this and said, "Then... how about adding some more?"

"How much do you think is appropriate?"

Just as Da Liu was pondering this, the chubby policeman, with his back to them, tapped the table: "Quiet! If you have something to say, please say it outside!"

"Yes, yes, right away, right away!" Da Liu stammered, then whispered to Hu Yi, "I think I heard him say something about three days, did he mean three thousand?"

"Hmm, that makes sense." Hu Yi took the passport back from the table, put in another thousand rubles, and with a forced smile, went around to the policeman and handed it over: "There's no need to hand him over to the immigration office. He's a good man. Could you please help me out?"

The chubby policeman took the passport, glanced at it, and impatiently handed it back to Hu Yi: "Come back in two days."

It turned out that one day meant an extra thousand rubles. Hu Yi understood, and quickly took out another two thousand rubles, making a total of five thousand, which he put in his passport and handed over with a smile: "Two days is too long. My friend is old and not in good health. We hope he can go home and rest as soon as possible."

"Not feeling well?" The portly policeman swiveled his chair around, his face now showing a concerned smile. "Is he ill?"

"This..." Hu Yi was stunned, but Da Liu quickly answered, "He's sick. He was sick yesterday, and he's still not better."

"Really? That's terrible." The portly policeman stroked his chin, frowning thoughtfully for a moment. "Is his condition serious? Is it contagious?"

Da Liu was stunned for a moment, then glanced sideways at Hu Yi: "What did he say?"

Hu Yi had already guessed the fat policeman's intention and quickly nodded seriously: "Yes, it can be contagious to others. And his condition is very serious, and he's old, so it might... be dangerous."

"Oh dear, that's a big problem. It would be terrible if something happened to him here tonight. You'd better get him to the hospital as soon as possible." The fat policeman muttered to himself with a gloomy look, then placed Hu Yi's passport on the table and pushed it forward: "Come with me."

Hu Yi picked up his passport; the five thousand rubles inside were gone. He gave Da Liu a slight nod and followed the fat policeman to a large iron cage.

The iron cage was quite large, seemingly much more spacious than Hu Yi's dormitory. There was a row of benches along three walls, with dozens of people sitting or standing inside. At first glance, most of them appeared to be Chinese, Vietnamese, and Central Asian.

These people all looked dazed and listless. When they heard someone approaching, they would only glance coldly outside before lowering their heads again and ignoring him. Hu Yi quickly scanned the crowd, his gaze soon drawn to the messy graffiti on the wall.

Several white walls were densely covered with various languages ​​of different sizes. The handwriting varied in age, some crooked and extremely messy, while others were neat and orderly.

Among them, Chinese characters were the most numerous and conspicuous. At a glance, they were all vulgar and obscene words directed at Russian police, insulting everyone from parents and wives to ancestors for eighteen generations. They were extremely crude and contained many misspelled characters and even Chinese pinyin. It is likely that they were written by Chinese businessmen who have been locked up in cages for years to vent their anger.

Hu Yi glanced at the text for a few seconds, then couldn't help but cover his mouth and chuckle. Just as he was about to continue watching, the iron cage door slammed shut, and the fat policeman called a hunched-over old man to the door, turning to ask Da Liu, "Is that him? Is that right?"

"Yes, it's him." Da Liu repeatedly agreed, "Thank you, thank you."

The portly policeman relocked the cage, clearly in a good mood. He twirled the cage key on his finger, whistling as he led the three back to the police station gate. He didn't forget to say to the old man at the end, "I wish you a speedy recovery."

The old man nodded shakily to the police officer and followed Da Liu and Hu Yi out of the police station. Da Liu turned around and said, "Dad, it's cold outside, put on your bread jacket."

Da Liu's father put on the old down jacket he had been holding, put on his scarf, and let out a long sigh: "Sigh, you scared me half to death. How did you get me out? Who did you call?"

Liu's father's accent was heavier than that of Da Liu. Hu Yi turned his head and took a look at the old man in the dim light under the eaves. He saw that the old man was disheveled, with white beard and eyebrows, short and messy silver hair, and deep wrinkles on his face.

"Where am I supposed to find someone?" Da Liu said, pointing at Hu Yi as he walked. "It was this Brother Hu who paid to get you out of there. Brother Hu lives far away, and I told him to come back tomorrow, but he was worried you'd suffer in the police station, so he insisted on taking a taxi all the way here to rescue you. We two should really thank him properly."

"Yes! Thank you so much, thank you..." Liu's father gave Hu Yi a grateful glance, then suddenly his expression changed slightly, and he stopped and tugged at Da Liu.

Hu Yi was about to exchange a few polite words when he was taken aback by what he saw. Da Liu leaned down, put his ear to his father's mouth, hummed a few times, then straightened up and laughed loudly: "Dad, don't overthink it. Brother Hu came to work at the market a year ago; we've known each other for a long time. Besides, he's been studying in Moscow for several years, right, Brother Hu?"

"Yes," Hu Yi nodded, puzzled. "I came to Moscow in 2000, so what?"

"It's nothing, don't take it to heart." Da Liu leaned closer to Hu Yi, his tone slightly ashamed: "My dad... sigh, because of what I did back then, he's got some... some troubles that haven't been resolved. Just now, he felt like he'd seen you somewhere before, and thought it was..."

"It's nothing, it's just a misunderstanding." Liu's father interrupted Da Liu, took two steps forward and smiled faintly at Hu Yi: "I'm getting old, my eyes aren't what they used to be, but little brother Hu looks kind of familiar. Since my son said you've been working at the market, maybe... we've met before."

(End of this chapter)