How did hiring someone to press a pig image during Chinese New Year become a top trend?

The Fuxing bullet train, like a giant silver dragon, flies close to the ground of the North China Plain.

The air conditioning in the carriage was on full blast, but Xu An still wrapped his military overcoat tightly around himself.

He felt like a duck that had somehow gotten mixed up with a flock of swans, every pore on his body screaming with discomfort.

That heartless bastard Er Tu Zi was stuffed into a cage under the seat, but he was anything but still restless.

Every now and then, someone would blurt out, "A bargain! A bargain! A huge bargain!"

This attracted frequent glances from several white-collar workers who were on a business trip to Beijing, their eyes filled with curiosity about this "eccentric person."

Xu An lowered his head even further, wishing he could disappear into a crack in the ground.

Sitting next to him was a man in his fifties with dark skin and cracked hands, clearly someone who did heavy labor all year round.

A bulging white fertilizer sack stood at the uncle's feet, with the words "compound fertilizer" printed on it in red.

He gripped the bag tightly between his legs, as if afraid someone would snatch it away.

As soon as Xu An moved slightly, the uncle nervously shrank back, his face showing the unease and caution typical of migrant workers.

Xu An was all too familiar with that feeling of unease.

That's how he feels when facing the camera and the crowd.

Perhaps sensing the scent of a kindred spirit, Xu An pulled his mask down further and took out an orange from his pocket.

"Uncle, have an orange to quench your thirst."

The middle-aged man paused for a moment, looking into Xu An's "clear and foolish" eyes, and his tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Thank you...no, you're welcome, I brought my own water."

The middle-aged man pulled out a chipped military water bottle from his pocket, unscrewed it, took a sip, but his eyes never left the snakeskin bag.

In the live stream, netizens started to get active.

[ID: Idle Person in Beijing]: This uncle looks like he's going to Beijing to stay with relatives; the bag is definitely full of local specialties.

[ID Xujiacun Accountant]: Anzi, have a chat with Uncle. Don't always be so timid. You're a million-follower internet celebrity now, show some style!

[ID: Homesick Beijing Drifter]: I want to cry when I see that snakeskin bag. When my dad came to visit me, he carried a bag like that, which was full of peanuts that we grew ourselves.

Xu An glanced at the comments, but didn't dare to say anything. He simply handed the orange to the uncle.

"Uncle, are you going to Beijing to visit relatives?"

The uncle held the oranges and rubbed his hands together somewhat embarrassedly.

"Go see my son. He's in that... Haidian area, working on the computer."

When he mentioned his son, the uncle's wrinkles around his eyes crinkled into a wide smile, an undisguised pride.

"That's a big company, impressive." Xu An gave a thumbs up.

"What's so great about it? He's been working overtime all the time, he's ruined his back from sitting so long."

The uncle sighed and patted the snakeskin bag beside his leg.

"I heard him say that the chairs in the city are too soft, and sitting on them for a long time will cause back pain."

"I'm a carpenter, and I'm not very skilled, so I just made him a chair at home."

"I'm just afraid... afraid of embarrassing him."

The man's voice grew softer and softer, and his eyes dimmed.

"Big companies have genuine leather sofas, but I only have a few pieces of wood. I'm afraid my colleagues will laugh at me."

Xu An's heart skipped a beat.

carpenter.

The letter in his arms, belonging to "Old Nian'er," was it also left by someone who had spent his whole life dealing with wood?

"Uncle, can I take a look?"

Xu An asked a question as if possessed.

The uncle hesitated for a moment, but still untied the red rope on the snakeskin bag.

The bag was open, revealing a corner of the contents inside.

Without paint or polishing, it retains the original color of elm wood.

That was an extremely ingeniously constructed "Luban stool," also known as a "blindly made stool."

Without a single nail or drop of glue, it relies entirely on the mortise and tenon joints between the wood.

When opened, it's a chair; when closed, it's a flat wooden board.

The surface of the wood was sanded smooth, like a baby's skin, and you could even see the sweat and effort that seeped into the wood grain.

Although Xu An didn't know much about it, he could sense that this thing was warm.

This is no chair; it is clearly a father's concern, bent over, planing out piece by piece under the dim light.

The live stream chat exploded instantly.

[ID: Palace Museum Restoration Expert]: Holy crap! This craftsmanship! This is authentic mortise and tenon joint! Modern machines simply can't replicate it!

[ID Ergonomics Master]: This angle, this curve, absolutely protects your lower back! This is much better than ergonomic chairs costing tens of thousands of yuan!

[ID Old Man's Grandson]: Waaaaah... I miss my grandpa. He used to make me one of these little stools, but I thought they were too tacky and threw them away... I'm so awful!

Xu An looked at the comments and took a deep breath.

He lowered his phone camera slightly, focusing it on the chair.

"Uncle, I wouldn't trade this for a genuine leather sofa."

"In ancient times, this was called a 'folding chair,' which was reserved for generals who commanded the central army."

"If your son gets this job, he'll be sitting on a 'throne' in the company, and he'll definitely have a lot more confidence!"

The uncle was stunned, his eyes wide open.

"Really? This...this piece of broken wood is so precious?"

"real."

Xu An nodded earnestly, his expression as sincere as a radish just pulled from the ground.

"That's called craftsmanship; you can't buy it even if you have money."

The uncle smiled.

This time, his smile was no longer awkward, and he unconsciously straightened his back.

He carefully retied the red string and patted the bag, as if patting his son's shoulder.

The train's public address system announced that it was about to arrive at Beijing West Railway Station.

Outside the car window, skyscrapers loomed ahead like a steel forest.

That sense of oppression made Xu An's nerves, which had just relaxed a little, tense up again.

"Hey, you bald guy, shut up and play dead."

Xu An whispered a warning to the cage.

The car stopped.

The moment the car door opened, Xu An felt as if he were standing in front of a floodgate.

people.

It was full of people.

A dense crowd of people, the rumble of suitcases being dragged, and shouts in various dialects all converged into a massive wave of sound.

Xu An suddenly felt short of breath; it was the physiological hypoxia experienced by people with social anxiety when facing a huge crowd.

He was carrying a birdcage, being pushed forward by the crowd behind him.

It's like a leaf falling into the mighty Yangtze River; it has no control over its own destiny.

That uncle, carrying a snakeskin bag, disappeared into the crowd in a few moments, like a charging soldier.

Xu An wanted to find a corner to hide in, but even the corners were full of people.

Excuse me! Please let me through!

Xu An could only move with the flow of people, feeling his soul gradually leaving his body.

The live stream screen shook violently, only capturing countless hurried figures from behind.

[ID: Capital Native]: Hahahaha! This is Beijing West Railway Station! The overwhelming feeling of Asia's largest railway station! Hang in there, Anzi!

[ID Gossip Netizen]: Anzi must want to go back to the village to feed pigs now, look how shaky the camera is.

Finally, Xu An moved with the flow of people to the exit.

He was just trying to find a place to hail a taxi and escape this terrible place as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the crowd ahead.

Two neat rows of people were standing outside the railing at the exit.

They were all bald, with large gold chains around their necks and walnut or bodhi seed beads in their hands.

Everyone was dressed in old-fashioned Tang suits or martial arts uniforms, with cloth shoes with multiple layers of soles.

The aura was so intense that someone unfamiliar with the place might have thought it was a gang holding a religious ceremony.

The surrounding passengers were so frightened by the sight that they walked around it.

The leader was a 300-pound fat man who was holding up a huge sign.

There was no name written on the sign.

Instead, he drew an extremely ugly turtle kicking its legs, with two large, wildly cursive characters next to it:

[Receiving the turtle!]

Xu An was stunned.

He subconsciously looked at the birdcage in his arms.

Er Tuzi was also stunned, and glanced at the sign through the gap in the black cloth.

Then, this naive myna bird, in the busiest train station in Beijing, let out the loudest laugh.

"Turtle! Turtle! Make soup! Make soup!"

For a moment, the air seemed to freeze.

The fat man leading the group twitched his ears and his eyes instantly locked onto Xu An, who was huddled in the crowd... and the birdcage.

The fat man's fleshy face twitched, revealing a smile that was more like a grimace—a smile that was both enthusiastic and grotesque.

"Oh my! Isn't this the distinguished guest we've been waiting for!"

"Successor of the Ghost Hand! Protected by the Divine Bird!"

"Brothers! Let's get to work!"

In a flash.

Two rows of bald, burly men marched in unison and surrounded Xu An.

Xu An looked at this group of "enthusiastic people" who seemed to be trying to kidnap him to reclaim land from the sea.

Only one thought remained in my mind.

It’s over.

This isn't someone coming to pick someone up from the station.

This is clearly a death sentence for those with social anxiety.

He clutched the metal box tightly to his chest, letting out a desperate wail in his heart:

"Grandpa! I want to go home! Beijing is too dangerous!"

Meanwhile, the number of viewers in the live stream surged to over a million thanks to this absurd airport welcome ceremony.

[ID Panjiayuan Batou]: Hahahaha! That fat guy is the "Gold Master" of Panjiayuan! This sign depicts Xuanwu! How did it become a turtle-catching sign!

[ID Laughing to Death at the West Station]: Anzi: I'm here to deliver a letter, not to become a gang leader!

Surrounded by the burly men, Xu An was crammed into a... extended Jinbei van, feeling utterly hopeless.

The moment the car door closed, he heard Jin Ye excitedly shout into the walkie-talkie:

"Attention all units! The person in charge has received the order! Head straight to Panjiayuan! Bring out those few treasured items you've been hoarding!"

Xu An huddled in the corner of the leather seat, watching the receding Beijing cityscape outside the window.

The letter in his hand, addressed to "Wang Dachui," seemed to have become even hotter.

Panjiayuan.

That's the place with the sharpest eyes and the deepest waters in all of China.

Can his hands, which are only good for butchering pigs and delivering messages, handle the world of martial arts?