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

Three days.

Just three days later, Kaoshantun was no longer called Kaoshantun, but "Huishutun".

The entire village and even the surrounding dozens of miles were thrown into complete chaos.

Elementary schools are closed.

It's not that the teachers aren't teaching, it's that the students are gone. Even the most obedient little girls are now carrying willow baskets bigger than themselves, running wildly around the mountains with the adults.

The forest farm has also suspended operations.

Wang, the foreman in charge of attendance, stood in the empty logging camp, holding the roster in his hand, cursing angrily:

"Where are they?! Zhang Dali! Liu Ergou! They're all fucking dead?!"

No one cares about him.

What's the point of going to work like this?!

Nowadays, everyone, even an eighty-year-old woman, knows one thing: bending over means making money.

Those gray squirrels that used to be annoying to look at all over the mountains and fields are now like giant running bills!

Catch one for 50 cents, catch two for 1 dollar!

Zhang Dali's son skipped school yesterday to set traps and caught twelve! That's six yuan!

That's more money than a strong laborer could earn in a day of heavy physical work in the forest!

……

The Zhao Family Compound.

At this moment, it was no longer just lively, it was explosive.

The courtyard was piled high with gray furs, like small mountains. The stench of raw hides was overwhelming, but no one found it offensive at the moment; instead, they thought it smelled like money.

"Queue up! Don't push!!"

Erga Zi's voice was hoarse from shouting; he stood on the millstone with a wooden stick in his hand, trying to maintain order.

"Hey you! Wang Laowai! Take that dead rat back with you! That's a house mouse! We need a squirrel! If you try to fool us again, I'll break your legs!"

Zhao Shanhe sat on a grand chair under the eaves, with a tin box next to him.

The box was open, and it was full of brand-new 100-yuan notes and bundles of small bills.

"Brother Dali, you're here?"

Zhao Shanhe looked at Zhang Dali, whose eyes were bloodshot and whose hair was like a bird's nest, and laughed.

Zhang Dali dumped a huge burlap sack on the ground, and it was full of gray leather.

"Mountains and Rivers! Quick! Give me some!"

Zhang Dali's hands were trembling with excitement:

"This time they're all good! Guilan and I peeled them all night long, and not a drop of oil got on them!"

Old Liu stood to the side, holding his pipe, like a gatekeeper. He casually rummaged through it a few times, then nodded.

"The quality is good. Although it was clipped, the leather backing is intact. There are forty-two in total."

"Forty-two sheets..."

Lin Cui's abacus beads flew across the page:

"Twenty-one yuan."

"Snapped!"

Two large unity bills, plus a one-yuan bill, were slapped directly into Zhang Dali's hand.

"Take it." Zhao Shanhe said calmly.

Zhang Dali clutched the money, tears welling up in his eyes.

Twenty-one yuan!

It's only been two days! Including the day before yesterday, his family earned more than fifty yuan in three days!

He had worked in the forest farm for ten years and had never seen money so easy to earn!

"Shanhe! I'm convinced! I'm truly convinced!"

Zhang Dali stuffed the money into his pocket, his eyes bloodshot.

"I'll go again! There are still some on the south slope!"

Watching Zhang Dali run off like a madman, Zhao Shanhe lit a cigarette, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

This is the power of humanity.

As long as the profits are big enough, they will risk their lives without you having to whip them.

In just three days, his inventory has already exploded.

We collected over two thousand squirrel pelts, along with many fox and mink pelts that the villagers had kept hidden away.

Once this batch of goods reaches Blagoveshchensk, even the most ordinary squirrel pelts can be resold for four times the profit.

……

At this moment.

In a state-run guesthouse in a county town a hundred miles away.

The best suite in this guesthouse was filled with smoke, so thick that it was hard to open one's eyes.

Two middle-aged men wearing leather jackets and with slicked-back hair were sitting on the sofa.

They weren't locals; they spoke with an incomprehensible southern accent, and the gleaming gold Rolex on their wrists was particularly eye-catching under the lights.

That's the symbol of the "Wenzhou Gang".

This group of people were among the first to get rich in China, and they were known as "privileged speculators" at that time.

They had the permits and connections, and specialized in trade with the Soviet Union; they were the true "cross-river dragons" of this era.

But at this moment, the leader, "Boss Huang," had a face so gloomy it could drip water.

He held a "Liangyou" cigarette in his hand, but didn't smoke it, letting the ash fall onto his expensive trousers.

"Boss, we've figured it out."

The henchman next to him was a burly man with a fierce face. He refilled Boss Huang's teacup, his eyes gleaming with a menacing light.

"That guy named Zhao Shanhe is just a country bumpkin who just came out of the mud. I don't know what kind of luck he had, but he managed to fool that Vasily and cripple him."

The younger brother made a throat-slitting gesture and lowered his voice, saying:

"Boss, this kid's cutting off our source of income. Should I get a few of my men... to take care of him on the way?"

"If we break his legs or burn his car, let's see how he'll ship the goods."

"Snapped!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Boss Huang slapped the underling across the face, sending him spinning in a circle.

"idiot!"

Boss Huang cursed, his Wenzhou-accented Mandarin filled with deep disappointment and frustration:

Use your pig brain!

"You know we're people of status? We're in big business, not some brainless thugs!"

Boss Huang stood up, walked to the window, looked at the snow scene outside, and said in a cold tone:

"I just had someone investigate and found out the truth."

"This Zhao Shanhe is ostensibly a self-employed individual, but in reality, he works for Li Yuanchao, the director of the Harbin Municipal Bureau of Commerce."

"He and that old bastard Jin Wanfu are in cahoots, wielding official provincial documents and waving the banner of 'creating foreign exchange for the country'!"

Mentioning the names "Jin Wanfu" and "Li Yuanchao" makes Boss Huang grit his teeth.

Although the Wenzhou gang has special privileges, in Heilongjiang, a powerful dragon cannot suppress a local snake.

Jin Wanfu is a seasoned veteran, while Li Yuanchao is the one with real power.

"Touch him?"

Boss Huang sneered:

"Do you believe that the moment you make a move against him, Li Yuanchao could arrest us all on charges of 'sabotaging the country's foreign trade'?"

"Going underworld with people who have official connections? Don't you have a death wish?"

The younger brother covered his face, sweating profusely, and asked timidly:

"So...so we're just going to watch these bumpkins ride roughshod over us?"

The younger brother was somewhat unconvinced and said through gritted teeth:

"Vasily has said that if we can't get good quality goods, this supply line will be cut off."

"It's broken?"

Boss Huang sneered, shoving the cigarette butt into the ashtray with a sinister grin.

"He'd better have the ability to handle it!"

Boss Huang sat back down on the sofa and crossed his legs.

That arrogance that belonged to a financial tycoon returned to his face.

"Since administrative measures are ineffective, and those dirty tricks are too degrading..."

Boss Huang took out a thick stack of documents from his leather briefcase and threw them directly onto the coffee table.

"Then let's use what we're best at."

"What?"

"money."

A cruel smile curled at the corner of Boss Huang's lips:

"Zhao Shanhe has official documents and Li Yuanchao backing him up. But he has a fatal weakness—he has a weak foundation."

"How much money could a nouveau riche from a remote mountain village possibly have?"

"Comparing capital to ours? He's not even worthy of carrying our shoes!"

Boss Huang opened another briefcase.

"Splash—"

He simply turned the box upside down.

Bundles of brand-new, unsealed 10,000-yuan bills were slammed onto the coffee table like bricks, forming a suffocating little mountain.

"Vasily wants the goods, not official documents!"

Boss Huang held up one finger, his tone revealing a ruthless confidence that he had everything under control:

"If we intercept all the good stuff in this area, Zhao Shanhe won't be able to deliver it when the time comes..."

"When the time comes, if we can't explain ourselves over there, even if that old Russian Vasily is arrogant, he'll have to obediently come back and kneel down begging us!"

Boss Huang pointed at the pile of money and yelled at his underlings:

"go!"

"Send all the brothers out!"

"A checkpoint will be set up right at the entrance of Kaoshantun village!"

"Doesn't Zhao Shanhe get 50 cents for collecting gray squirrel pelts?"

Boss Huang held up one finger, his tone exuding an arrogant confidence that money could kill:

"Tell those peasants, as long as it's leather, good or bad, no need to inspect it, I, Huang, will offer one piece!"

"I'll make sure Zhao Shanhe, despite having mountains of goods, can't even collect a single mouse hair!"

"Trying to mess with me? I'll bury him in money!"