In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Chapter 127 Pulling out the radish brings out the mud

He repeated it again, this time even louder than before.

"I'll tell you everything I know, and it's not just me, lots of people on our street know about it!"

He gritted his teeth.

"The things my dad did swindled my third uncle out of his money and also swindled my mother."

"When he gets out, I won't let my mother live with him anymore! I'm separating from him!"

Zhang Yong looked at Zhang Chao's fists, which were covered in calluses.

Honest people, once they've made up their minds, can be more ruthless than anyone else.

This fake oil case is now involving too many things: both the legitimate and criminal worlds, local protectionism, loan sharks, and even villagers getting involved. Where the equipment came from is unknown, where it was sold is a mess, and it's a cross-regional operation.

Every process was cumbersome, and things just remained stuck in a rut.

Although several people were arrested, their knowledge was incomplete.

Now we can only look for clues little by little. Today, Zhang Chao can at least tell us where the village collects oil and stores equipment. No matter how fast Ma Degui runs, there is definitely no time to move these things underground.

"Brother Chao," Zhang Yong patted him on the shoulder. "There's something else you should think about."

Zhang Chao rubbed his eyes and listened attentively.

"You said that the shed where your dad worked for Boss Ma, besides the oil drums and machines, did you see anything else? People coming and going, cars, or anything special?"

Zhang Chao squinted, trying hard to remember.

"Yes," he slapped his thigh. "My dad once got drunk and said—he said Boss Ma had something hanging in the county—"

—The research institute's sign.

Zhang Yong stopped holding the pencil.

"graduate School?"

"Yes! It's right next to the old residential compound of the United Machinery Factory, a row of bungalows with a tin sign nailed to the door."

Zhang Chao tried hard to recall. "What was the brand name? — Gaoyang County — Special Oil Products Technical Service Department."

"My dad said that outsiders aren't allowed in that place, and only Boss Ma and Factory Director Chen have the keys."

Zhang Chao's voice was filled with confusion. "I was wondering at the time, how would my dad, a deliveryman, know who has the keys?"

Zhang Defa suddenly stood up. "You mean Director Chen, the Director Chen of the United Machinery Factory?"

"That's right! That's what my dad calls him, Director Chen."

The room fell silent.

Zhang Yong grabbed a pencil from the table and quickly scribbled a few words on the draft paper: United Machinery Factory → Old Family Compound → Next-door Bungalow → Special Oil Products Technical Service Department.

Only Ma Degui and Factory Director Chen have the key.

This is my old hideout.

When Ma Degui fled, he only thought about making a comeback. He did hide all the equipment, and the account books, formulas, and records of incoming and outgoing goods may be there.

Even if things don't go perfectly, there must be those receipts for collecting oil from the village.

"Is that place usually occupied?" Zhang Yong pressed.

"I haven't seen him during the day," Zhang Chao said. "But one time my dad came home in the middle of the night, and he smelled strongly of diesel fuel. I asked him where he had been, but he didn't say anything and just scolded me for meddling."

"I have a feeling that's where they went."

Zhang Yong put down his pencil, stood up, and grabbed his coat.

"Dad, you stay home and keep Chao company."

Zhang Defa was taken aback. "Where are you going?"

"Go to the police station and tell Xiao Li about this."

Zhang Chao stood up as well. "Yongzi, I'll go with you!"

"But—could you—let me see my father first?"

Zhang Yong stopped.

"I have a lot to say—I want to ask him in person."

Zhang Chao lowered his head. "I want to ask him why he's doing all this. Do my older brothers know? My mother asked me to give him a message. I also want to ask him if he needs anything else—"

His voice grew softer and softer.

"My mother was seriously ill three years ago, and since then she hasn't gone out much, nor does she like to talk to my father. I used to think it was because of her poor health, but now that I think about it—"

Li Guilan sighed deeply, put the pork belly into the pot to scald it, and then rummaged through the inner room to find a cloth bag. She stuffed a towel, a toothbrush, and a bar of soap into it, and then counted out a few small bills and stuffed them at the bottom of the bag.

"Chaozi, take these to your father." She handed him the cloth bag. "No matter what terrible things he's done, he's still your father."

.

Zhang Chao took the cloth bag, and his nose started to sting with tears again.

Zhang Defa looked troubled.

"Chao, this is difficult." He rubbed his hands together.

"I went to deliver something last time, but the person was already in detention. We can't just see them whenever we want. We need to get a slip and go through the formalities."

"And that place is really far away, almost to Tongzhou, it takes more than an hour by bus."

Zhang Yong also knew about this.

In 1990, visits to detainees in detention centers were unlike those in later years; there were no lawyer's letters or appointment systems.

Under normal circumstances, immediate family members can apply for visitation, but Zhang Chao's household registration is in Baoding, not in Beijing. To meet him, he needs a certificate from the police station in Chaoyang District and approval from the detention center in Beijing. It is common for this to take three to five days back and forth.

"Brother Chao." Zhang Yong patted him on the shoulder. "I'll figure out how to see your dad, but we need to go to the police station first."

"Tell the police what you know first, give them your statement, and then ask them if they can help you with the visitation procedures. They're familiar with the detention center."

Zhang Chao held the cloth bag and nodded.

"Okay, whatever you say."

Zhang Yong put on his coat and touched the keys in his pocket.

"Walk."

Zhang Chao took a deep breath, slung the cloth bag over his shoulder, and followed Zhang Yong outside.

As they reached the door, Zhang Defa quickly added something.

"You two come back early, lunch can be ready in an hour."

"OK."

Zhang Yong turned the door lock, and a gust of cold wind blew in from the stairwell.

"Let's go, Brother Chao."

The exhaust pipe of the Jialing 125 made a muffled sound downstairs.

Zhang Yong got on the car, and Zhang Chao sat in the back seat, one hand clutching the cloth bag and the other hand tightly holding onto the metal frame of the back seat.

"Actually, that place is quite easy to find." Zhang Chao's voice was broken by the wind and came from behind.

"Our whole village knows about that oil-buying stall. Sometimes they can even help you borrow some change, and you can exchange silver dollars, silver rings, or other valuables for something. It opens on the fifth or tenth of each month."

"It's just that outsiders don't know that and think it's just an ordinary stall."

Zhang Yong rested his hand on the handlebars.

The market stalls not only collected waste oil, but also silver dollars and Yuan Shikai silver dollars.

This isn't an oil trading company; it's practically an underground bank that also distributes counterfeit oil.

No wonder Ma Degui was able to operate successfully in the area. The money he spent on repairing roads and delivering rice and flour to the village during festivals wasn't just money; it was money he paid for the roads.

In those days when even having ten thousand yuan was a rare sight, ordinary people were short of money and had nowhere to get loans. Ma Degui's barter scheme directly tied the wallets of everyone in the village, young and old, to his fake oil workshop.

These days, cutting off someone's livelihood is like killing their parents; no wonder the police officers handling the case couldn't even get a sip of water when they entered the village last time.

They'll probably have to sneak out and investigate at night now.

"If we arrive too late and Director Chen moves the account books from that bungalow, the case will become complicated again."

The motorcycle steadily drove towards the police station.

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