The train was moving forward in the endless wilderness, and through the gap of the carriage, you could see the undulating mountains outside in the night, the carriage was filled with cotton bales, leaving only a narrow space to stay, the rain had stopped long ago, and the clothes on my body were dry.

  Xiao Shunzi cried himself to sleep and had already entered dreamland, with two lines of clear tears still hanging on his face.

  Chen Zikun took off his jacket, two bullet holes on the sleeve, the nylon fabric emitted a burnt smell, he smiled wryly, this piece of clothing was probably impossible to return to Ruan journalist.

  He was shot in the arm by a chicken rib and fortunately, the bullet only passed through the muscle without hitting any bones or major blood vessels. This Japanese-made 8mm caliber bullet is quite weak and even if it hits the head, it may not be fatal, but gunshot wounds still need to be treated.

  As it was a through-and-through wound, the bullet head had long since flown off somewhere else. The cloth strips wrapped around the wound were stained with fresh blood. Chen Zikun untied the cloth strips and examined the wound, trying to move this arm a bit, but fresh blood flowed out again as soon as he did.

  The matches on his body were all wet and couldn't be lit at all.

  He pulled out a pistol, cocked it in his armpit, ejected a bullet from the chamber, picked it up with his hand, bit off the tip of the bullet with his teeth, stuffed a piece of cloth into the cartridge case, reloaded the bullet into the chamber, stabbed open a package of cotton balls with a knife, pulled out a handful of cotton and placed it on the floor of the car, then raised the gun and fired at the cotton.

  The cotton ball was ignited by the flame ejected from the gun, Chen Zikun picked up the fire and pressed it on the wound, soon the cotton ball burned into black ash, which stopped the bleeding when applied to the wound.

  Xiao Shunzi was startled awake by the gunshot and jumped up with a start: "What's going on?!"

  "It's all right, go to sleep, I'll call you when we get to Shanghai," said Chen Zikun.

  Perhaps Shanghai is the only solace for Xiao Shunzi's wounded heart, where there are taller skyscrapers, more prosperous foreign concessions, and more opportunities.

  But Chen Zikun had no idea where this train was headed.

  At dawn, the train arrived at Tianjin Old Dragon Head Station. Workers with small hammers checked the wheels and axle pads of each carriage. The two could no longer stay on the train and got off the oil tank car, walking along the endless railway tracks.

  "Have we arrived in Shanghai? I don't think so." Little Shunzi asked dazedly, he had grown up and never left Beijing City, after taking an overnight train, he had no idea where he was.

  Chen Zikun shook his head and continued walking forward until they left the station. Outside, there was a dirt road with several carters squatting by the roadside. Seeing them come out, they asked in Tianjin dialect, "Sir, do you want to take a rickshaw?"

  Jiāo pí is Tianjin dialect, referring to a rickshaw. This little Shunzi still knows that much. He scratched his head: "How did you just arrive in Tianjin?"

  Chen Zikun snapped his fingers: "Two rubber tires, go to the dock."

  Two people got on a rickshaw and arrived at the Tianjin dock, where they saw a large steamship flying colorful flags and seagulls filling the sky. Xiao Shunzi was stunned with his eyes wide open.

  "Wow, this must be a steamship! Let's go take a look and broaden our horizons." He stuttered.

  Chen Zikun said: "If you want to see it, let's take a good look. Let's sit on this one and go to Shanghai."

  "Really!" A smile spread across Xiao Shunzi's face once again.

  Chen Zikun had been to the Tianjin dock with Er Gui last time, so he knew where the ticket office was. He walked over and took a look, only to find that there were several types of tickets: first-class cabins, second-class cabins, third-class cabins...and then he patted his pockets, realizing he only had enough money for two third-class cabin tickets.

  ……

  Since the two brothers boarded this China Merchants Steam Navigation Company ship, the weather has been bad, either overcast or windy and rainy. The three-day and three-night journey made Xiao Shunzi vomit for three days and three nights. He, who grew up in an old Beijing alley, had never experienced such turbulence before. Everything he ate was thrown up, and even the acid in his stomach was emptied. His seasickness reaction was severe, and coupled with the pain of losing his mother, Xiao Shunzi fell ill on the eve of arriving in Shanghai.

  Lying on the third-class cabin's messy and chaotic bunk, Xiao Shunzi grasped Chen Zikun's hand and said intermittently: "Dakunzi... I won't make it, after I die, cremate me and bring my ashes back to Beijing, I want to be buried with Mother."

  Chen Zikun comforted him: "Don't talk nonsense, you still have so much good fortune that hasn't been enjoyed yet, how can you die."

  Suddenly there were cheers from outside: "Shanghai has arrived!"

  The long whistle sounded, and Xiao Shunzi was shocked, saying: "Help me up to take a look."

  Chen Zikun supported Xiao Shunzi, who had already fainted, onto the deck. The two were instantly stunned by the scenery outside.

  The vast river surface, the mast is like a forest, the hundred boats are competing, and the shore is densely packed with European-style buildings, which cannot be seen at a glance. This kind of prosperity is completely different from the quiet Hutong scenery of old Beijing.

  "This is Shanghai." Chen Zikun said with emotion, leaning on the railing.

  "Even if it's Tianqiao, it can't be compared with this place." Xiaoshunzi murmured, his eyes full of longing.

  Yellow waves hit the ship's side, white seagulls soar in the sky, the whistle of Huangpu River rises and falls, the Hai Pai scenery makes two brothers infatuated.

  "Look! It's the flag of the British Empire." Little Shunzi suddenly exclaimed excitedly, pointing to a massive ironclad warship in the distance. It was a foreign cruiser with black smoke billowing from its chimney and the Union Jack flying from its mast.

  "There's another American warship!" Little Shunzi exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down.

  "Damn it to hell! The gun barrel is raised like a dick!" Chen Zikun saw a Japanese warship with the Rising Sun flag in the distance and spat fiercely into the river.

  Xiao Shunzi looked for half a day and finally noticed something was off, scratching his head and saying: "Why aren't there any warships from our country?"

  Chen Zikun couldn't answer this question, and he was also asking himself why there were no Chinese warships in the rivers of China.

  The passenger ship docked at the 16th Wharf of the Bund, Shanghai's most important wharf. Countless ships were anchored in the river, and countless coolies carried large packages back and forth between cargo ships and the wharf. On the shore, numerous cars and rickshaws were parked, all of which dazzled the eyes of the two brothers, who couldn't take it all in.

  They got off, the two of them had nothing on their bodies, wearing wrinkled clothes that had been rained on, and stepped onto Shanghai land. At that moment, Xiao Shunzi was deeply moved: "Shanghai, I'm here! From now on, there's only Li Yaoting, no more Xiao Shunzi!"

  Suddenly a loud scolding voice came from behind: "Zhuo Luo, how can you be so slow!"

  Turning back, it was a Westerner in a suit and leather shoes, impatiently brushing himself off with his cane, probably thinking he was being blocked.

  Li Yaoting didn't understand, but he also heard that the other person wasn't saying anything good. He frowned and asked: "What did you say?"

  Next to him was a coolie, probably from Shandong, who could understand the Shanghai dialect spoken by foreigners and also Li Yaoting's Beijing dialect. He interrupted, "He is scolding you as a pig."

  Li Yaoting's face suddenly changed color, he had mixed with foreigners in the Six Nations Restaurant before, and had seen all sorts of foreigners, but those foreigners in Beijing were all gentle and courteous, with a strong gentlemanly demeanor, how could they be so rude as to scold loudly when someone slightly blocked their way.

  But the other party is a foreigner after all, and Li Yaoting has just arrived, so he dares not to make a move, can only mutter a sentence: "You're the one who's a pig."

  Chen Zikong didn't care about that, but his mood had been stifled to the extreme in these few days. He was worried that he couldn't find an opportunity to vent his anger. Seeing foreigners bullying his own brothers, he didn't say a word and went up to kick the foreigner's chest with a side kick.

  This kick is not to be underestimated, with great force it can kick a cow to death, and the tall and large foreigner was kicked straight into the river.

  "Damn it, foreign pig!" Chen Zikong clapped his hands and scolded loudly.

  The coolies who came and went saw this scene and couldn't help but smile in their hearts, but their feet didn't stop moving.

  Suddenly, a shrill police whistle sounded, and three Indian constables with red turbans waved their batons and ran over. Chen Zikun saw that things were not going well, so he grabbed Li Yaoting and took off running.

  After running out for several hundred meters, the police siren could no longer be heard. Li Yaoting stopped and panted heavily, wiping the sweat from his forehead, saying: "Damn it, I'm going to die from running."

  Although it's tiring, but the whole person's spirit has been lifted up.

  "Let's go, let's eat." Chen Zikun took off his suit jacket and slung it over his shoulder, walking side by side with Li Yaoting. The Shanghai sunlight shone on the two young people, a warm glow all around them.

  "Newspaper for sale! Latest news from Beijing: police have killed a student!" A newspaper boy ran by quickly.

  Chen Zikun called out to the newspaper boy, handed him a copper coin, and took a copy of the paper in his hand to examine it. The first thing that caught his eye was the two large characters "Shen Bao".

  The headline news is about a demonstrating student, Guo Qin Guang, who was seriously injured by the military police on May 4th during the demonstration and unfortunately died of his injuries on the 7th. Various sectors of society have launched memorial activities to commemorate this martyr.

  Chen Zikun muttered: "Wasn't this Guo Qinguang sent to the hospital with tuberculosis? How did he become a policeman who was beaten to death? It's really incomprehensible."

  There are still many things in this world that he can't understand, but for now the first thing to solve is the problem of his stomach. The two of them together don't have more than 50 cents, and after eating one meal, they're afraid there won't be a next meal.

  Wandering aimlessly on the streets of Shanghai, the two gradually couldn't even tell which direction they were heading. The streets and alleys of Shanghai weren't as clearly laid out as Beijing's, but instead crisscrossed in all directions. After strolling around for a while, they finally found a small, affordable shop. The waiter seemed to have a discerning eye, and upon seeing the two customers' shabby attire, he knew they didn't have much money on them. With a smile, he asked: "Friends, how about a bowl of Yangchun noodles?"

  "How much?" Chen Zikong licked his lips and asked.

  "Five cents." The waiter said with a smile.

  "Bring two bowls." Chen Zikong took out a corner of money and slapped it on the table, looked at the water powder brand, and simply took out the remaining two corners: "Two more bowls of wine, a plate of garlic beans, and a plate of fried stinky tofu."

  "Noodles in spring sauce: should they have wide soup or cross the bridge?"

  "Same here."

  Without much effort, Yang Chun noodles, fennel beans and stinky tofu were all served in front of them. The two looked at each other and were instantly stunned. Compared to Shanghai bowls and Beijing bowls, they seemed like children's bowls, while the plates were as large as bone plates, with hardly anything on them.

  "Shanghainese are really petty and stingy." Li Yaoting complained.

  Chen Zikun raised his wine bowl: "Come on, for our successful arrival in Shanghai, cheers!"

  Li Yaoting also raised his wine bowl: "Cheers!"

  They just bumped into each other, and before they could even take a sip, several local rascals came from not far away, rushing towards the small restaurant while shouting: "Little red boy, don't run!"

  A bald man at the next table, who was eating his Yangchun noodles with his head down, suddenly got up and ran away, knocking over Chen Zikun's dinner table in his haste, scattering noodles, celery, stinky tofu and beans all over the floor.

  "You're blind!" Li Yaoting cursed loudly.

  "Sorry, buddy." The bald man nodded and tried to slip away, but was caught by Li Yaoting: "Pay up."

  At this time, those few thugs had already surrounded him, with a cold and stern expression: "Surnamed Jiang, you've found some help, huh? If you don't return the money, we'll break your legs."

  Chen Zikun calmly drank the yellow wine, put down the bowl, brushed his clothes and stood up. He was extremely tall, like an iron tower in front of these thin, weak and short Shanghai rascals.

  Casually lifting his clothes, he revealed a box-shaped pistol on his waistband and said slowly: "Bullying the minority with numbers is it?"