Foreword (1)

  I want to tell you all a story.

  This story was told by a veteran on my way to Yunnan this summer and has been circulating in the army for a long time.

  It is said that in the Yunnan troops, there is still a handwritten copy of the devil's notebook. I don't know if it's true or not, but first record the story below, and apologize to friends who see it for any typos.

  First of all, I declare that I have never been a soldier, but I like to get myself a non-standard military uniform. This will make others feel that I used to be a soldier and have some skills in my hands and feet. Even if someone wants to lay hands on me, he will probably weigh it carefully.

  I'm doing this not to show off, but purely for safety considerations.

  Because I am in the jade business.

  This time I went to Yunnan to buy jade rough stones. In the past two years, the price of jade has skyrocketed, and many people who want to get rich like me have flocked to the jade markets in Ruili or Tengchong.

  Life safety is a headache, so I often dress myself up as a veteran who has been through the war. Wandering in the world of rivers and lakes, no matter which sect, basically no one will mess with a veteran. This was told to me by someone who mixed in the world of rivers and lakes.

  When I came out of the Kunming airport, it was raining. I saw a cripple walking in front of me. What caught my attention was that apart from being crippled, he was also wearing a camouflage uniform that had been washed until it was almost white and frayed. Judging from the extent of damage to his clothes, I guessed he should be a migrant worker on a construction site.

  However, this kid was carrying a beautifully crafted briefcase and wearing a shiny gold watch on his wrist that caught my eye. I couldn't help but laugh - in today's world, you never know who anyone is. I bet that watch was bought from a street vendor for 50 yuan, enough to buy two fake Rolexes.

  I used to be a migrant worker too. Some of my fellow workers might have fake gold watches and fancy clothes, but it's unlikely that they would use this kind of suitcase or take airplanes. I seem to recall seeing him on an airplane before.

  I don't know where this kid came from. His leg disability makes him walk very slowly and clumsily, every step he takes, his butt swings up to the sky. With a body like that, he still wants to venture out into the world, I really do feel a bit sorry for him.

  I rushed out of the airport to the long-distance bus station, where I was waiting for the bus. The cripple appeared and sat in the same car as me, sitting next to each other in the back row.

  I broke out in a cold sweat. Had I encountered the legendary "dressing up as a pig to eat a tiger"? Otherwise, how could it be that from Beijing we took the same flight, now sat on the same bus, and even sat in the same back row?

  Although I didn't have much cash with me, I still tightly hugged the bag that was with me.

  When the cripple sat down beside me, he nodded to me. Later I felt that he seemed to be sizing me up all the time, and I turned my head to look at him. If it were just him, I reckon ten cripples wouldn't be a match for me. At this point, he was probably observing and probing me, and I absolutely couldn't show weakness.

  The cripple suddenly spoke up and said, "Have you been a soldier?"

  I nodded.

  What kind of soldier? The cripple seems very interested.

  I said, Special Forces. And gave him a fierce stare, hoping he could see the knife-like marks in my eyes.

  The cripple grunted and slowly shifted his gaze away. Then he casually placed the box at his feet, leaned against the window corner, and fell asleep.

  Not long after the bus got on the highway, it was reported that the road ahead had been blocked by a landslide and the cleaning work would take at least one day to complete. The bus had no choice but to change its route to the provincial road.

  The provincial road didn't go far before it was also blocked. The bus had no choice but to change its route to a rural dirt road.

  From then on, I had a bad premonition. Feeling that something was wrong, indeed, the bus had just turned into a mountain valley when it suddenly fell into a big pit with a loud crash. Everyone almost got a concussion and before they could regain their senses, someone outside was knocking on the window and shouting loudly: "Get down, get down! Take your bags down!"

  A group of masked thugs, all holding knives. My luck is really good, this kind of harmonious society where such things happen once in a thousand years actually happened to me. Obviously, this is not a group of professional thugs, who would carry so much cash waiting for them to get rich.

  The people on the bus cooperated like a crowd of actors. We opened our luggage and wallets as the robbers told us to do so. At that time, no one asked me if I was a special soldier, nor did I dare say that I was a special soldier. Let them take away the little cash, it's nothing, even if they took away the bank card, they may not be able to withdraw money from it. What I wanted was just safety.