Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

"Alright, get lost."

Zhao Shanhe waved at him with a laugh and a scolding tone, watching Dazhuang stride out of the main room, his back view even more upright than when he came.

Zhao Shanhe didn't linger in the house. He put on his thick cotton-padded coat, which smelled of engine oil, stubbed out his cigarette, and strode towards the telephone room of the brigade headquarters, braving the cold early spring wind.

The phone was answered very quickly at the border trade station. Ivanov's loud voice pierced through the crackling static, and when he heard that Zhao Shanhe was arranging a blind date for his most capable, rough-looking subordinate, and that he was to visit his father-in-law at the county health center's residential compound, the Russian on the other end immediately burst into laughter, shouting in broken Chinese at the top of his lungs:

"Halasha! Comrade! A blind date! This is the most joyous occasion ever!"

"How can a scene like this be complete without true friendship? Zhao, tell Dazhuang to sit tight. He doesn't need to prepare anything! Clothes, shoes, hats, and all the essential gifts you should bring on your first visit to your future father-in-law's house—I'll take them all!"

Zhao Shanhe moved the receiver two inches away from his ear, squinted, and exhaled a puff of smoke, looking somewhat uneasy.

"You've got to be kidding me. We have so many customs when we propose marriage here. What do you, a Russian old man, know about what to bring?"

"How come I didn't know?!"

Ivanov, as if insulted, raised his voice again:

"Zhao, I'm a married man!"

"Okay, okay, okay."

Zhao Shanhe was too lazy to argue with him, and added another instruction:

"When you come to formally introduce your family, don't bring any of those fancy, strange Russian trinkets. Just like we agreed, the coat, the fur hat, the cigarettes, alcohol, and tea should all be top-notch hard currency. Don't make a fool of yourself by bringing them out."

Ivanov snorted on the other end of the receiver, his tone confident and even revealing an undisguised smugness:

"Don't worry! Tomorrow morning, I'll deliver everything to Kaoshantun in perfect condition, and it won't delay your business the day after tomorrow!"

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you tomorrow morning."

Zhao Shanhe didn't think much of it, hung up the phone, wrapped his cotton-padded coat tighter, and walked back into the cold wind.

As dusk fell, grayish-white smoke began to rise from the chimneys in the village.

Da Zhuang, that kid, was decisive and efficient. In the afternoon, he braved the cold wind and went to town to find Wang the Barber and tidy himself up.

When he came to the Zhao family again that evening, his previously messy hair had been trimmed into a neat buzz cut, and the stubble on his chin was shiny. He looked much more energetic and spirited.

Zhao Shanhe looked at his awkward yet expectant expression, tossed him a cigarette, and didn't say anything more, only telling him to come over tomorrow morning to inspect the goods and try on the clothes.

Silent all night.

The next morning, the early spring frost covered the haystacks and frozen roads in the village, and even a breath of air would be covered with a layer of white foam.

Just as Zhao Shanhe splashed some cold water on his face in the yard, a deep, powerful engine roar suddenly erupted at the village entrance.

It was neither the grating, rattling sound of a tractor nor the heavy roar of a diesel engine like the Great Liberation truck, but rather an extremely smooth sound, with the feel of high-end mechanical meshing, rolling along the main road of the village from afar.

In the days when even a bicycle was a big deal in Kaoshantun, this commotion instantly alarmed half the village.

Many farmers who had just picked up their cornmeal porridge didn't even bother to put down their bowls; they just stood on the top of the courtyard wall, craning their necks to look outside.

A jet-black Soviet sedan, gleaming from washing, steadily and smoothly rounded the crooked willow tree at the village entrance and drove straight toward Zhao Shanhe's courtyard.

"Squeak—"

The black Volga sedan came to a steady stop in front of the Zhao family's courtyard.

As soon as the car door was pushed open, Ivanov was the first to jump out.

This Russian was clearly dressed up carefully today. He was wearing a sleek, thick, dark brown mink fur coat with a large collar, a stylish black fox fur hat, and high-top military boots that were polished so well they reflected his image.

The towering figure, over 1.9 meters tall, stood before the gate, his golden beard gleaming in the white light, resembling a brown bear king just emerging from the Siberian forest, exuding a fierce and domineering aura.

"Ha! Zhao! My dear comrades! I've missed you so much!"

Ivanov's loud voice shook the Zhao family's courtyard wall, causing bits of firewood to fall down in a flurry.

He grinned widely, laughing heartily, and lunged at Zhao Shanhe with his two arms as big as palm leaves. Without saying a word, he gave Zhao Shanhe a bear hug that was so tight it hurt his bones, and the strong smell of vodka emanating from him hit him right in the head.

Zhao Shanhe coughed as the bear choked him, then shoved the large brown bear away, laughing and cursing in an annoyed tone:

"Get out of here. What kind of behavior is this, two grown men hugging and cuddling?"

"Haven't we seen each other in ages!"

Ivanov rubbed his nose, chuckled foolishly twice, then stood smugly beside the Volga train, giving it a sharp thumbs-up:

"Zhao, I'm not the only one here today; I'll introduce you to someone!"

He cleared his throat and shouted into the car in his hoarse, raspy voice:

"Natasha! Natasha!"

He called out twice, but the dark carriage remained silent, without a single sound.

Ivanov's smug expression froze for a moment. He awkwardly scratched his black fox fur hat, muttering to himself:

"That's strange, they were just talking on the way here... how did they fall asleep?"

He muttered a curse in Russian, strode to the back door, yanked open the handle, and bent down to peer inside with his bear-like frame.

"Hey! Lazy woman! Wake up! Stop sleeping! We've arrived at Kaoshantun! Get up and see Zhao!"

As he spoke, he stretched out his large palm and slapped the person inside hard without much force.

"Snapped!"

Before the crisp thud of flesh had completely faded, a furious roar in Russian, spoken by a tigress, suddenly erupted in the carriage:

"Get out of my way, you Siberian idiot!"

Immediately afterwards, a long leg wearing a heavy suede boot came out from the back seat like a hammer, and with a muffled thud, it landed solidly on Ivanov's lower abdomen.

Ivanov, a towering figure over 1.9 meters tall and weighing over 200 kilograms, was kicked so hard that he staggered back two steps, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath, almost falling flat on his backside into the mud.

Zhao Shanhe watched from the side, his eyebrows twitching, and the half-smoked cigarette in his mouth almost fell out.

Before Ivan could recover, the back door was pushed all the way down by a large, broad hand.

A tall, stocky figure, reeking of strong, pungent vodka, staggered out of the back seat.

Zhao Shanhe was stunned for a moment.

This woman was at least 1.7 meters tall, with broad shoulders and a large frame. She was wrapped in a thick brown woolen coat, but she didn't look bulky at all. Instead, she looked like a solid wall.

She had a large face, fair skin with a rosy glow, and two unusual blushes on her cheeks, whether from the cold wind or from a hangover. She had a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, and a head of light brown hair that was messily spread over her shoulders.

"Damn it... my head is killing me... I've been rocked all the way here, my bones feel like they're going to fall apart..."

Natasha rubbed her messy hair, muttering curses in Russian, and shook her big head vigorously in the biting north wind of early spring.

The biting, razor-sharp wind of Northeast China sent a shiver through her, and her bloodshot, grey-blue eyes finally focused.

She squinted at Zhao Shanhe for several seconds, as if slowly matching the characters in her drowsy mind.

"Zhao...Shanhe?"

Zhao Shanhe raised an eyebrow.

"it's me."

Natasha stared at him for another two seconds.

The woman casually wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then with one hand pulled two large, bulging canvas travel bags from the back seat.

The bag was incredibly heavy; the rough canvas was stretched taut by the hard object, its edges sharp and jagged.

Her steps were still a little unsteady, but she didn't even glance at them. With a swing of her arms, she threw the two large bags directly at Zhao Shanhe's feet with a whooshing sound.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two extremely heavy thuds struck, causing the frozen mud in the yard to tremble slightly, and fine dust particles scattered in all directions.

The old zipper on one of the bags had already burst, and when it hit the ground, it tore open with a large gash.

Zhao Shanhe looked down and his eyelids twitched suddenly.

The bag was packed tightly with bundles of foreign currency, all sealed with kraft paper strips!

Printed with Lenin's profile and the emblem of the Workers' and Peasants' Soviets, it was brand new and crisp, with the smell of ink mixed with a strong sour smell of vodka wafting through the air.

All of them are genuine, large rubles!

Ivanov, who had just gotten halfway up from the muddy ground, rubbing his stomach, stared wide-eyed at the sight of the two bags in the light. He opened his mouth to call out, "Nata..."

"Shut up, you idiot!"

Natasha turned around abruptly, reeking of alcohol, and yelled fiercely at Ivan. Ivan shrank back, swallowing the rest of his words.

The woman swayed as she steadied herself by holding onto the roof of the Volga, raised her hand to press hard on her throbbing temples, and let out a loud, drunken burp.

Fueled by the strong liquor, she shed her tough exterior, revealing bloodshot eyes in her grey-blue pupils as she stared intently at Zhao Shanhe.

"Zhao... the sky over there is about to collapse."

"We can't go back."

Natasha wiped her burning eyes, swayed in the cold wind, and spoke in a voice as deep as a stone:

"All our assets are here. Ivan said you're the toughest, most loyal, and trustworthy."

"From now on... I'll leave it to you."