Lately, the people in the village stopped calling Zhao Laolv “Old Two.”
Instead, they’ve started calling him “Zhao Laolv.”
Because he adopted the daughter of a prostitute.
Even though he insists that this girl is his biological daughter, and even produced what looked like a pretty convincing paternity test report—still, even if she really is his daughter, the green hat on his head is green enough already.
After all, this is pretty much admitting that his wife has served as a mount for countless men.
Some even say that Zhao Laolv had been involved with that woman long ago, and just never married her so she could fetch a higher price; the money she earned all went to him.
With this explanation, many people suddenly saw the light—no wonder that woman set such high prices, and hardly ever took business from people in the village; no wonder Zhao Laolv never bothered to get a job, no matter how poor he was.
After all, even without working, there was always money to spend!
“Old Two, sorry, I didn’t know she was your wife. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have kept going.”
“Screw you!”
“Don’t be mad. I always paid extra, you know. The money you spend on cigarettes might even include my contribution!”
“Damn it!”
“Haha, Old Two, Old Two! Don’t walk so fast. Where are you off to?”
“What, can’t see I’m taking my precious daughter to kindergarten?”
“You really think I don’t know? I came to talk to you about this. You’ve got the money, so why send her to such a shabby kindergarten?”
“What’s wrong with this kindergarten? Don’t all the kids in the village go there?”
“No future there, Old Two. Actually, I’ve got some connections. I could get your daughter into a kindergarten downtown.”
“Too damn far!”
“Come on, everyone laughs at you, but I’m the only one looking out for you! And you still don’t appreciate it!”
“Mind your own business! Get lost! Stop wasting your breath!”
Zhao Laolv fished out a brand new crocodile leather wallet from his pocket, pulled out two crisp hundred-yuan bills, and handed them over.
“Isn’t your wife running a tailor shop? Get me a few sets of clothes made!”
“How many sets?”
“For my daughter!”
“You think two hundred yuan can cover a few sets?”
“Come on, with that little fabric, isn’t two hundred enough for eight or ten sets?”
“You think you’re planting potatoes?”
“Whatever, just make two nice sets! Anything extra, you keep!”
“You think I care about that little bit of your money, Zhao Laolv?”
“Come on, who doesn’t know that Er Xizi doesn’t even have private stash money? You never have cash for cigarettes!”
“I’m quitting smoking!”
“Er Xi, give me one.”
“Sure, I’ve got a lighter.”
“Quitting, are you?”
“…Cough!”
Zhao Laolv’s got money these days, so he’s putting on a bit of a big boss act—even if he looks like a dog dressed in human clothes.
He cockily offered a pack of Chunghwa cigarettes to his childhood friend, then turned to lead his daughter away.
“No time to mess around with you! We’ll be late if we don’t hurry!”
“Hey! You old two… you might not be up to much, but your kid’s something! About those clothes—don’t worry! I’ll make sure they look great!”
***
Zhao Laolv watched as the little girl in red shoes stood at the kindergarten gate, waving at him.
On his lecherous face, all his features squeezed together.
Crouching there, he looked just like a child trafficker: “Hey~ Ning Ning! Be good at school today! If you don’t like the class, don’t listen! Eat more at lunch, I paid for it!”
The teacher at the door stood up straighter, trying not to look at the sleazy young man who resembled a kidnapper.
Having a parent like this was truly the kindergarten’s misfortune…
“Mn—!! Goodbye, Uncle Zhou Chao—!”
Zhao Laolv, who was about to turn and leave, suddenly got anxious: “How many times do I have to say it, call me Dad!”
“Goodbye, Daddy Zhao!”
“That’s better.”
Zhao Laolv nodded with satisfaction, turned, walked over to his beat-up Santana parked on the curb, and hopped inside.
After dropping off his daughter, he decided to treat himself.
The first stop, naturally, had to be the Wonton Stall in front of No. 2 Middle School in this small town.
He set off.
The stall was run by an old woman.
She set up every morning, and once the students went into school, she packed up.
Normally, the lazy Zhao Laolv never caught her.
Today, for once, he was early enough—though he had to hurry, or she’d be gone… Small city, short drives.
Zhao Laolv hit the brakes and stopped in front of the Wonton Stall just as the old woman was about to pack up.
Seeing her wrinkled old face, he felt a burst of affection, like seeing his own mother: “Granny! Make two bowls of wontons, extra scallions!”
“There’s only enough for one bowl left.”
“That’s fine, just one!”
“I’m closing after this, you’ll have to take it to go.”
“Why do you always pack up so early? Off to tend your old man’s grave?”
Zhao Laolv grumbled, kicking over a plastic chair, then dutifully setting it upright again.
“Damn it, whatever! Hurry up and cook!”
The stall owner, despite her age, was nimble.
In no time, the wontons were in the pot, bobbing in the boiling water and bubbles.
Zhao Laolv took a deep sniff, sighing contentedly: “Ah~ that’s the smell! Granny, you better live a few more years, at least until I get tired of your wontons.”
“How can you talk to your elders like that?” The stall owner sighed, helplessly stirring the pot with a metal ladle before fishing the wontons into a foam bowl.
“Extra scallions, more, even more! Don’t be stingy, I know you’re closing anyway!”
“Anymore and it won’t taste right.”
“You’re not me, how would you know what I like?”
“Young man, you really need to control that temper.”
“That’s just who I am! What, didn’t pay yet?”
“Go on, take it. Granny’s closing.”
“Heh, see you tomorrow!”
“Like you need to say it?”
Zhao Laolv happily cradled his foam bowl, glanced up and down the street, then stepped into the barbershop next door.
The barbershop owner was an old classmate. Eating wontons there was just right.
“Hey, you open early!”
“Old Two!”
The young barber’s eyes lit up.
“You’re just in time!”
“What?”
“I’ve got the runs—watch the shop for me! I’ll be right back!”
“Damn it, if someone comes in, I’m not cutting their hair!”
“Cut my ass! At this hour, who’d come in? The students are all in class!”
“But what if someone does?”
Zhao Laolv insisted.
“Then tell them to wait!”
“How long will you be?”
“Five minutes!”
The barber dashed out with a handful of red toilet paper, waving five fingers behind him.
“Five minutes!”
***
Zhao Laolv doubted he could finish the wontons that fast.
He glanced at the clock on the wall, then checked his battered phone, and with his elementary math skills (probably third-grade level at best), counted up for a while—he was sure it’d been more than five minutes.
Five minutes? More like fifteen!
“Dumbass, wasting my time when I should be playing the slots…”
As Zhao Laolv peered outside, he spotted a group of students heading his way.
“Hey, skipping class this early? These students are just as wild as I was back then…”
He hadn’t finished his wisecrack when the whole group walked right into the barbershop.
The tall boy in front looked like he’d just had a rough time, sighing like his mother had died: “Boss… a haircut, sigh…”
“Not cutting.” Zhao Laolv didn’t even look up.
He remembered all the times this barber scammed him in elementary school, so he decided to help him miss out on a little “windfall.”
But deep down, he considered himself a good guy.
Now, the barber could relax and finish his business without worrying about cutting hair mid-crisis—imagine if he couldn’t hold it!
So really, Zhao Laolv thought, this wasn’t revenge.
This was kindness!
***
Now he really felt like a model youth who helps others.
“Huh? Why?”
The lead boy looked confused.
“Uh, our teacher sent us to get our hair cut. Just a buzz cut…”
“Your head’s buzzed enough!”
Zhao Laolv picked up the now-empty foam bowl, ready to toss it out, but seeing the leftover scallion bits in the broth, brought it back to his lips for a drink.
“I’m not the one cutting. They are…”
“They? What are they cutting?”
Zhao Laolv narrowed his eyes, acting like he was about to get to work.
“Uh, just a trim in the back for him, bangs too long for that one, sides and back for another, and him too, just a buzz cut.”
“Oh, her? Your school makes girls get buzz cuts too?”
“Uh, actually, he’s…”
“Damn!”
Zhao Laolv slapped the table, standing up in anger.
“What kind of teacher, what kind of school is this? Are their brains made of diarrhea? There’s such a rule in this world?!”
“It’s not…”
“So your teacher sent you here, right?”
Zhao Laolv pounded his chest, feeling like the hero who once saved his childhood self.
“Come, let me talk to her, I’ll scold her until she can’t say a word! Haircuts, my ass!”
“No, it’s not…”
“Go get your teacher!”
“No, it’s not…”
“What, the teacher can’t? Then get the principal! Oh, right, isn’t your principal that old fart whose hair’s almost all gone but insists on keeping two tufts at the sides, and his nose hair sticks out like weeds?”
“Uh…?”
“Just tell me if that’s true!”
“…It is.”
Zhou Chao struggled to hold back his laughter.
“I wasn’t afraid of him in school, and I’m even less afraid now. What crap rules—buzz cuts for boys, fine, but for girls too? Call him out and let’s argue!”
“The principal would never come out…”
Sun Wei’s face was blank.
“Won’t come out? Fine, fine! Let’s go, I’m going in myself!”
Fang Qiang waved his hand, about to smooth things over, when Zhou Chao—who always loved stirring up trouble—chimed in, “Sure, let’s see our homeroom teacher first! But she’s just had a big fight with her husband and is in a bad mood today.”
“Bad mood? Hah! In this town, if I say I’ve got a bad temper, no one dares say they’re worse! What the hell do they count for! Let’s go, today I have to do this!”
Everyone looked at each other, and finally Zhou Chao—barely suppressing his laughter—waved and led the boys around the corner.
Looks like they really were going to bring him to the homeroom teacher…
“Hm? Where’s Old Two? That bastard, always unreliable, leave him to watch my shop and he disappears… Whatever, at least no one stole anything…”
The barber, just out of the bathroom, yanked up his pants with both hands, unfastened and refastened his belt, and muttered, “That Zhao Laolv, finished his wontons and didn’t even throw out the bowl, just left the table all covered in soup. What an uncivilized idiot…”