Chapter 15: Earning Seed Money by Fixing Cars

A faint smile played at Wan Shun's lips. “Don’t get carried away. I know, yes, but it’s not strange, nor does it matter how I know. What matters is that you don’t dig your own grave. Chen San is not as pure and honest as he appears. Once you shake hands on a deal with him, that’s the end of you.

“When the purge begins, you’ll be his stepping stone. You fall, he walks away clean. Later, when he’s riding high and reminiscing, he’ll sigh that you were a stubborn fool who refused good advice, that all his goodwill was wasted—if not for that, things might have turned out differently.”

Wan Shun wasn’t making this up. In her previous life, this incident had caused quite a stir; even though she was busy saving herself, she’d heard all about it.

Chen San had used Shanpao to clean his slate, and as Damai County developed, he soared, becoming a powerful entrepreneur who contributed much to his hometown and gained a sterling reputation.

While Wan Shun was in prison, she’d even seen the dazzling Chen San on television, lamenting in front of millions about his old brothers who stubbornly walked a dark path, refusing reform, and meeting a tragic end.

Those few words earned him thunderous applause. People said he was loyal, compassionate, with no need to grieve for the ungrateful.

Poor Shanpao—his team of twenty or thirty men, all wiped out.

Come to think of it, Chen San was an old acquaintance of Wan Shun’s. Back then, it was the Wan family who had sent her straight to Chen San’s bed.

Jiang Yingzhi had broken in to rescue her, beating Chen San half to death.

But that bastard was hard to kill. After lying in the hospital for two months, he was none the worse for wear, but Jiang Yingzhi died.

Wan Shun’s blood churned. No rush—when Chen San’s time comes, he won’t escape.

Shanpao’s heart pounded. Only a few trusted men knew about the talks with Chen San, and nothing had been decided yet.

But how did this obscure country girl know? And why was she so certain?

Wan Shun didn’t disturb Shanpao’s brooding. She rose and said, “I do hope we can work together. If you’re interested, let me know when there’s news. I have plenty more information you’d want to hear.”

Shanpao, full of suspicion, watched Wan Shun leave.

Just as she reached the doorway, he called out, “You really don’t want those chips?”

Without looking back, Wan Shun waved her hand. “I dare not take ill-gotten gains. I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

By the time Wan Shun stepped out of the card room, dusk had settled. She still had over forty yuan in her pocket and went straight home.

There wasn’t a soul on the mountain road. The woods were even darker than the path, the wind carrying a chill.

But Wan Shun wasn’t afraid—she was used to this darkness and these shadows.

Still, a sudden crash made her jump.

She quickly moved toward the source of the sound.

At the fork in the road, she saw a car had somehow crashed into the mountain wall.

Wan Shun tilted her head, sizing it up. The car had come from the direction of Qishan North, separated from Fu’an Brigade by a mountain, yet still under its jurisdiction.

But the terrain there was completely different from Wan Shun’s village, Qishan South. That area was flat, fertile, and well-watered—most of Fu’an Brigade’s farmland lay there.

Qishan South had only a few scraps for the villagers to till themselves. The big plots were all leased out.

Wan Shun had seen the landlords before, but not these two men—they were strangers, well-dressed, not locals. If not landlords, they must be businessmen.

At this hour, businessmen either bought grain or sold machinery.

Wan Shun remembered that in her past life, around this time, the rice was nearly ripe. The landlord had indeed brought in a new type of harvester, drawing crowds from all the nearby villages. Later, a few villages went in together to buy a couple of machines, bringing the harvester boss plenty of business.

So their identities were clear.

Zuo Dalong stepped out holding his forehead, looked at the car, his face dark as thunder.

“How did you drive? There’s not a soul around, not a light to be seen—what now? Can you fix it?”

The driver wiped sweat from his brow, equally innocent. “Boss, I’ll have to take a look first.”

Zuo Dalong was furious. “Hurry up then! What’s taking so long?”

The driver was injured, his neck twisted, but he dared not complain—he just gritted his teeth and went to check.

Driving was one thing, but fixing cars was beyond him. He stared at the engine for ages, clueless.

Wan Shun strolled over. “Oh dear, the car’s broken down?”

The sudden appearance of a girl in the wilderness nearly made Zuo Dalong and the driver jump out of their skins. They almost thought she was a ghost—until they saw she was human, and relaxed.

Zuo Dalong snapped, “What’s a little girl doing wandering out here at night? Hurry home. Your family’s got some nerve, letting you roam around alone after dark.”

Wan Shun ignored him, circling the car.

The driver took offense. “Don’t touch anything. If you break it, you can’t afford to pay.”

Wan Shun gave the car a swift kick, making it rattle and clang. Staring up at the driver with wide, innocent eyes, tinged with provocation, she gave it two more kicks, hard enough to make the car seem about to fall apart.

The driver’s knees went weak. “What’s wrong with you? Are you crazy?”

“I am, actually. A real lunatic,” Wan Shun replied.

The driver bristled.

Wan Shun shot him a scornful look, then addressed Zuo Dalong, “Six miles ahead is the commune, but they only fix bicycles, and only bicycle mechanics are there. Your car is beyond them.

“The county is over forty miles further. Even if you call for help, they’d only arrive tomorrow. Going back is even worse.

“For fifty yuan, I’ll fix it. Guarantee you make it to the county. Want to try?”

The driver snorted. “You? Fix a car? Don’t make me laugh.”

But Zuo Dalong was half convinced. “Can you really do it?”

Wan Shun eyed the driver. “I’m certainly better than him. In the whole Damai commune, I’m the only one who can.”

The driver exploded, “You brat—!”

“Enough,” Zuo Dalong shoved the driver aside. The old man had little skill but plenty of temper. “Step aside. Useless at everything but eating and wasting my money.”

Embarrassed and angry, the driver glared at Wan Shun.

She couldn’t care less—let the useless bluster.

Wan Shun pressed, “Well? Are you fixing it or not? I’ve got to get home.”

Embarrassed to be rushed by a girl, Zuo Dalong’s face turned green. “Fine, fix it. If you screw up—”

“If I screw up, I screw up. What, you’ll blame me?” Wan Shun’s voice was cool. Zuo Dalong choked on his words.

After a long pause, he ground out, “Fine. Fix it, and I’ll give you a hundred.”

Wan Shun beamed. “You’re generous, boss. Stand back, don’t get your clothes dirty. You, come shine a light.”

The driver hesitated, but relented.

Wan Shun lifted the hood, found two disconnected wires, and simply twisted them together.

“All set.”

“That’s it?” The driver felt cheated. “For this you want fifty yuan? Have you no shame?”

Wan Shun scoffed, “Shame? You make a few hundred a month, drive like a dog’s chasing you, and can’t even fix a simple wire? Have you no shame?

“At your age, you’re less capable than a little girl. Doesn’t that shame you?

“Admitting I’m better than you isn’t humiliating—it’s being useless, arrogant, and incorrigible that is.

“But never mind. I’m generous. I won’t hold it against you.”

The driver clenched his fists, speechless.