Chapter 17: A Guest Visit

“Big brother, your aim is really spot on,” Li Aiguo said, leaning in to inspect the sight and giving a thumbs-up.

“Of course,” the middle-aged man replied proudly. “My ancestors served as eunuchs in the purification chambers for generations. When dealing with even the smallest matters, they had to cut precisely without leaving any trace—and still keep the person alive. That’s what I call having a steady hand!”

As he spoke of his family’s honorable legacy, a wistful gleam filled his cloudy eyes, smoothing out many of the wrinkles on his face.

Li Aiguo stared silently at the two pounds of fresh, red pork. After a moment, he looked up at the man.

“You never worked as a eunuch?”

“Alas, bad luck struck me. Just when I was old enough to enter the palace service, the emperor died.”

“Hmm… I think your luck’s actually not bad at all.”

The man paused briefly, then burst into hearty laughter. “That’s true. If I had really become a eunuch, I wouldn’t be stuck with this meat-selling job now.”

In those days, selling meat was a respectable trade—it required a good background and skillful hands.

Li Aiguo knew many butchers who never had to buy cooking oil at home.

Before heading back, the butcher would rub his hands over the fatty meat a few times.

During the journey home, those hands could touch nothing else and certainly never used the restroom.

Upon arriving, his wife would fetch a basin of water to wash his hands, and the oil floating on the surface would be enough to cook for the whole family that day.

Crucially, even if a superior found out, there was no way to reprimand him—after all, handling meat with one’s hands was part of the job.

After bidding farewell to the butcher, Li Aiguo wandered through the market. When he left, his hands were heavier with two pounds of apples and three pounds of red jujubes.

That wasn’t all—he also stopped by the neighboring department store to buy two bottles of aged Fenjiu liquor and two pounds of eggs.

The liquor was a gift for Zhou Tiehu, and the eggs were for himself.

Zhou Tiehu’s home was in the railway compound near the locomotive depot, some seven or eight miles from the courtyard where Li Aiguo lived.

He pedaled his bicycle like a whirlwind, and in less than ten minutes, he arrived in front of the railway compound.

Not knowing Zhou Tiehu’s exact address, Li Aiguo went straight to the gatehouse.

Before he could approach, a guard stepped out briskly, eyeing Li Aiguo suspiciously.

“Comrade, hello!”

Li Aiguo stopped and smiled. “I’m looking for Zhou Tiehu. Could you help me contact him? He’s my father’s colleague.”

The compound housed railway workers, and the guard was also a railway employee, so he was familiar with the residents.

Besides, Zhou Tiehu was a train driver—a leading figure at the depot—so the guard certainly knew him.

After scrutinizing Li Aiguo—dressed in a worn railway uniform, with thick eyebrows and a dignified appearance—the guard saw no sign of ill intent.

Still, Li Aiguo was asked to register his name and home address.

He was also questioned about Zhou Tiehu’s family, and since his answers matched what the guard knew, he was allowed inside.

Within the compound, there were seven or eight Soviet-style slab blocks built by the railway department to house its workers.

Li Aiguo’s father, as a train driver, was entitled to a flat but had given his allotment to a young couple preparing to marry.

Zhou Tiehu’s family lived on the third floor of the third building.

At the foot of the stairs, Li Aiguo took the gifts from his canvas bag and carried them in his hand.

He climbed to the third floor and knocked on a faded yellow wooden door.

The door was opened by a woman in her forties, dressed in railway work clothes.

Seeing Li Aiguo standing outside, she paused briefly, then looked him up and down with surprise.

“You’re… Li Aiguo? My, you’ve grown so tall! I hardly recognized you—come in quickly.”

This woman was Wang Cuie, Zhou Tiehu’s wife. She worked in the passenger service section and had a close bond with Li Aiguo’s mother, having cared for her often during their childhood.

Recalling the information in his mind, Li Aiguo greeted her, “Aunt Wang,” and handed over the gifts.

“You’re too kind, bringing gifts to your own family. You’re making us feel like strangers!”

Wang Cuie frowned slightly as she looked at the presents.

At that moment, Zhou Tiehu appeared in the corridor.

Wang Cuie complained, “Old Zhou, look at Aiguo—he’s becoming more and more thoughtless.”

Zhou Tiehu wore a white undershirt, blue shorts, and a pair of worn sandals. He carried an enamel basin filled with a towel and soap.

Judging by this, he had just bathed.

The slab blocks shared communal bathrooms and kitchens. In winter, the drivers bathed at the depot’s bathhouse.

In the summer heat, even after bathing at the depot, they’d still be covered in sweat by the time they got home.

It was simpler and more refreshing to shower at the public restroom at the end of the corridor.

Unlike Wang Cuie’s complaints, Zhou Tiehu said nothing, only nodding. “Come inside and talk.”

The slab block rooms were small, each about a dozen square meters.

The Zhou family had three rooms connected by a door in the partition wall, resembling a modern two-bedroom apartment but without a kitchen or bathroom.

The floor was coated in dull gray cement, and the walls bore a pale blue wainscoting.

The living room held an eight-immortals table and chairs, along with a radio.

As Li Aiguo surveyed the room, Wang Cuie poured tea and brought it over.

“Sit down quickly, just like you’re at home.”

“Is Zhou Ke or Zhou Lan home?” Li Aiguo asked, taking the enamel mug.

Zhou Ke and Zhou Lan were Zhou Tiehu’s children. Zhou Ke was about Li Aiguo’s age; Zhou Lan was two years younger.

“Zhou Ke just joined our railway police station this year. There’s a big case going on, and he hasn’t been home for almost a week.”

“Zhou Lan is still in vocational school; she hasn’t finished classes yet.”

Wang Cuie’s face lit up proudly as she spoke of her children.

But her expression soon darkened as she thought of Li Aiguo’s troubles.

“Aiguo, I heard from Old Zhou about what happened. You’re really something—after all that, why didn’t you ask us for help?”

Feeling the deep concern in her voice, Li Aiguo scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Auntie, I just didn’t want to trouble you.”

“Trouble? When you were little and life was hard, your mother couldn’t breastfeed. I fed Zhou Ke and took care of you too—I never minded the trouble then.”

Women who worked on the railways were often fiery by nature.

Wang Cuie exclaimed loudly, “Now that you’re grown, you act like it’s a bother. Seems you still don’t see Old Zhou and me as family.”