Rebirth: Fan Debiao rises from the Liaobei land

At 12:30 pm on June 13th, Gangzi knocked on the door of the vice president's office.

"Brother Biao, Lao Qian has made a move." Gangzi closed the door and lowered his voice. "One of my former underlings called me. Lao Qian has booked four tables at Jinbihuihuang, and he's invited all the street thugs. They've already started drinking, and he's saying he'll come over to 'support' us tonight."

Fan Debiao had just finished his boxed lunch and was picking his teeth when he asked, "What? How many people did you bring?"

"More than thirty people, all the laid-off workers from the mine were called up." Gangzi pulled up a chair and sat down. "Old Qian is really going all out this time. He's giving each person two hundred yuan upfront, and saying he'll give them another three hundred after the job is done."

"Where did the money come from?" Fan Debiao asked. "Didn't he just pay the fine?"

The matter of Lao Qian's tax evasion was eventually settled by pulling strings, paying back the taxes, and incurring a large fine. Although Jinbihuihuang didn't close down, it was severely damaged.

"Borrowed," Gangzi said. "I heard it was a loan from a boss from the south at a high interest rate of three percent."

Fan Debiao chuckled: "This is a case of 'what's the use of trying?' Does President Wu know about this?"

"He hasn't said anything yet." Gangzi paused. "Brother Biao, how about we call the police first? We can tell them someone is trying to cause trouble."

"Why call the police?" Fan Debiao laughed. "They said they came to support us, so how can we not let them in? When you're in business, there's no reason to turn away customers."

Gangzi panicked: "But they're clearly here to cause trouble!"

"I know," Fan Debiao exhaled a puff of smoke, "That's why we had to let them in."

Seeing Gangzi's puzzled expression, Fan Debiao gestured for him to sit down: "Why did Lao Qian choose today? Because it's the Chinese team's last match, and this is where we have the most people. If he brings people to cause trouble and it succeeds, Victoria's reputation will be ruined. Who would dare to come here to spend money after that?"

"Then we must..."

"So we have to let them in." Fan Debiao interrupted him. "Once they're in, they have to follow our rules. Gangzi, listen to me, do it this way."

He whispered a few words to him.

Gangzi's eyes gradually brightened: "Brother Biao, will this work?"

"Let's give it a try." Fan Debiao stubbed out his cigarette. "Go and prepare. Remember, none of our men can make the first move. Whoever makes the first move is in the wrong."

Gangzi nodded emphatically and left.

Fan Debiao opened the drawer and glanced at the lottery ticket. Türkiye 3-0 China, this was the final hurdle.

After locking the drawer, he got up and went to Wu Derong's office.

1:30 p.m., Victoria Open-air Plaza.

The tables were set up, but there were fewer people than usual today—the Chinese team suffered two consecutive losses and was eliminated early, and the last match was on a weekday afternoon, when many people were at work.

There were about twenty tables sparsely occupied, mostly by young people with free time or those who had taken time off to watch the game.

Fan Debiao moved a chair and sat down next to the projection screen, crossing his legs and clutching a thermos in his hand. Gangzi and ten security guards were scattered around the square, all wearing matching black short-sleeved shirts and walkie-talkies on their waists.

At 1:50, the sound of car engines roared from the street corner.

Three bread trucks led the way, followed by two taxis, and they all pulled up in front of Victoria's. The doors opened, and people jumped out.

Old Qian was the first to come down, wearing a black tight-fitting vest with two ribbonfish tattooed on his arms. The people behind him were like dumplings being dropped into a pot, more than thirty in total, completely blocking the entrance.

"Oh, Vice President Fan, what a grand welcome you've made for me!" Old Qian grinned, revealing a gold tooth.

Fan Debiao didn't get up, but unscrewed his thermos and took a sip of tea: "Is President Qian bringing a tour group?"

"Visit? I'm here to spend money!" Old Qian waved his hand. "Brothers, it's my treat this afternoon, all-you-can-eat beer, get the seats up!"

More than thirty people rushed into the square and sat down at every table they saw. Some of the guests who were already seated got up to leave when they saw this.

"Don't you dare leave!" Old Qian shouted. "It's my treat today, why are you leaving? Do you look down on me, Old Qian?"

The guests looked at each other, unsure whether to sit or leave.

Fan Debiao then stood up and walked up to Lao Qian: "Mr. Qian, I welcome you to patronize our business. But we have rules here, and we can't disturb other guests."

"Who did I bother?" Old Qian glared. "I'm treating, is that not allowed? Fan Debiao, you're running a business, do you think you can turn away customers?"

"I didn't say I was kicking you out." Fan Debiao smiled. "Here's what we'll do, Mr. Qian, we'll make arrangements for you and your men separately. There's an open space over in the kitchen; I'll have someone set up a few tables there so you and your brothers can drink in peace and quiet."

"No way!" Old Qian plopped down in a chair. "I've got my eye on this place—an open-air plaza, bright and airy!"

His men started making a ruckus, banging on the table, knocking on bottles, and making a lot of noise.

Gangzi clenched his fists and looked at Fan Debiao. Fan Debiao shook his head slightly.

"Alright, please have a seat." Fan Debiao turned and walked into the house. "Gangzi, put the drinks on Mr. Qian's tab."

Gangzi was stunned: "Brother Biao?"

"Go ahead."

..................................................................................................................

At 2:30 p.m., two police cars stopped in front of Victoria.

Old Wang got out of the car with three police officers, and Wu Derong quickly went up to them: "Chief Wang, thank you for your hard work. You still made the trip in this hot weather."

"It's my job," Old Wang said seriously. "Where did you lose the money?"

"My office, my office." Wu Derong led the people upstairs. "It was here yesterday afternoon, but it's gone this morning. Twenty thousand yuan, wrapped in newspaper, in a drawer..."

Their voices disappeared at the top of the stairs.

Meanwhile, with the referee's whistle, the match between the Chinese national football team and Turkey officially kicked off.

The square became lively as guests drank and chatted, occasionally cheering for the players' efforts on the field.

Old Qian's table started getting restless. A bald man stood up, holding a bottle of liquor and shouting, "Go China!"

Once he took the lead, everyone else followed suit, shouting so loudly that it drowned out the voices of the surrounding guests.

Gangzi looked at Fan Debiao, who shook his head.

Shouting encouragement isn't illegal; let them shout it.

In the 9th minute, Türkiye had a corner kick. The ball was delivered into the penalty area, and in the ensuing scramble, it went in.

0: 1.

The bald man stood up, swayed to the projection screen, pointed at it, and cursed, "What kind of crap was that! A disgrace!"

"What are you doing?" Gangzi stepped forward to stop him.

"What am I supposed to do?" the bald man glared. "I just don't like this big screen, so what?"

As he spoke, he swung a beer bottle and smashed it hard against the speaker next to the projection screen.

With a loud crash, the speaker casing cracked.

All the guests stood up and quickly moved back.

"Keep smashing!" Old Qian shouted.

Three more people stood up, each carrying a beer bottle.

"Stop!" Gangzi was about to rush forward when Fan Debiao grabbed him.

"Let them smash it," Fan Debiao said calmly.

Seeing this, the bald man became even more enthusiastic and turned to walk towards the large projection screen, which was three meters by four meters in size. That thing was rented; it cost two thousand two hundred a month, and he'd have to pay for it if it broke.

He raised the beer bottle—

"What are you doing!"

A loud shout came from the doorway.

Old Wang stormed in with three policemen, Wu Derong following behind. Old Wang's face was ashen, and he pointed at the bald man: "Put the bottle down!"

The bald man's hand trembled, and the beer bottle fell to the ground and shattered.

"Officer, it's a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding." Old Qian quickly stood up, his face beaming. "My brother here had too much to drink, he just slipped..."

"Slipped?" Old Wang walked to the projection screen, looked at the cracked speaker, then at the broken bottle on the ground. "How could it slip like that?"

He turned and stared at Old Qian: "Qian Youcai, it's you again."

"Director Wang, it's a misunderstanding." Old Qian still wanted to explain.

"What misunderstanding?!" Old Wang retorted angrily. "We received a report that Victoria had been burglarized, so we came to investigate. And what happened? Before we even figured out the theft, we ran into you guys causing a disturbance and damaging property!"

He pointed to the projection screen: "How much does this thing cost?"

Fan Debiao spoke up at the opportune moment: "It's rented, two thousand two a month. If it's damaged, you have to pay for it at cost, probably twenty or thirty thousand."

"Did you hear that?" Old Wang said to Old Qian, "Twenty or thirty thousand is enough to file a case. Damaging public or private property, if the amount is substantial, can be punished with up to three years in prison."

Old Qian's face turned pale.

"And you too!" Old Wang scanned the group of over thirty people. "Gathering a crowd to cause trouble and disrupt public order—you can all be detained!"

The group of more than 30 people immediately deflated, and several of them backed away, trying to slip away.

"Don't move!" The police officers Lao Wang brought blocked the doorway. "Show your ID cards!"

What followed was rather comical.

More than thirty men with dragon and tiger tattoos obediently lined up and took out their ID cards. The police officers registered them one by one, and those who did not have their ID cards were taken directly to the police station for verification.

Old Wang pulled Old Qian aside: "Qian Youcai, you just paid your fine. Do you think the prison threshold is too low and want to go back in for a while?"

"Director Wang, I really didn't mean to cause trouble..." Old Qian's voice was weak.

"Didn't intend to cause trouble by bringing over thirty people?" Old Wang sneered. "Let me tell you, if Victoria investigates this matter, you'll be in jail for at least six months."

Old Qian looked at Fan Debiao with pleading in his eyes.

Fan Debiao walked over and said, "Director Wang, Mr. Qian might really have had too much to drink. How about this, Mr. Qian will compensate for the damage to the projection screen and speakers. As for the rest... let's just forget about it. We're all from Kaiyuan, we'll run into each other again soon."

Old Wang glanced at Fan Debiao and nodded: "Since the aggrieved party isn't pursuing this, I won't either. But money matters, listen up—everyone here today will be taken back to the station for reprimand. You, pay up, write a guarantee, and if you dare cause trouble at Victoria again, I'll arrest you!"

"Yes, yes, thank you Director Wang, thank you Vice President Fan." Old Qian nodded and bowed.

"How much compensation?" Old Wang asked Fan Debiao.

Fan Debiao thought for a moment: "Although the projection screen wasn't broken, it was startled and needs to be checked. The speakers are broken and need to be replaced. Here's the deal: I'll give you a total of ten thousand yuan, no refunds for more, no extra for less."

Old Qian's lips twitched, but he didn't dare to say anything. He took out a wad of cash from his bag, counted out ten thousand, and handed it over.

"Make him write a guarantee!" Old Wang said to the police officer. "Make him write it clearly. What if he causes trouble again?"

The farce ended just like that.

At 3:00 PM sharp, the police car drove away.

The square returned to calm, and the guests sat down again, but were still discussing what had just happened.

Wu Derong walked over and patted Fan Debiao on the shoulder: "Debiao, that was a good move. Report a theft, invite Old Wang over for tea, and Old Qian just happens to walk right into the line of fire."

"It was just a coincidence," Fan Debiao said. "Who knew he would actually dare to smash things?"

Wu Derong smiled and patted Fan Debiao on the shoulder, "Tell Awei to prepare a generous gift; I'll personally deliver it to Director Wang tomorrow!"

When the final whistle blew, the square was quiet. Guests silently got up, packed their things, and left. Some poured their unfinished beer on the ground as a tribute to the Chinese team's first World Cup journey.

Fan Debiao was the last to stand up.

Gangzi walked over: "Brother Biao, everything's cleaned up."

"You've worked hard." Fan Debiao looked at him. "You did well today, keeping your composure."

"You taught me that," Gangzi grinned. "If you can avoid using your fists, then don't use them; if you can use your brain, then don't use your fists."

"Oh, right." Fan Debiao took out a thousand yuan from his pocket. "Give some to the brothers on duty today, and buy them some cigarettes."

Gangzi took the money: "Thank you, Brother Biao."

"Go."

Watching Gangzi leave, Fan Debiao stood alone in the empty square.

The projection screen was off, and the lights in the studio were out. Only two streetlights at the entrance were on, casting a long shadow of his.

He touched his inner pocket; the lottery ticket was hard and digging into his chest.

I'm going to Shenyang tomorrow.

Take it one step at a time, no rush.

A breeze blew by, carrying a slight chill. In Kaiyuan in May, the nights were still a bit cold.

Fan Debiao wrapped his coat tighter around himself and headed towards the staff dormitory.

The music store on the street was still playing music, but this time it wasn't Liu Huan; it was Tian Zhen's "Persistence":

"I want to transcend this ordinary life, which means I'm destined to wander for now..."