Chapter 1

"Ba Zhiming is back! The Ba family's son who went abroad has returned!"

The news spread almost instantly throughout the residential area of a few dozen buildings and hundreds of households, where the families of ordinary railway workers lived.

Yes, Ba Zhiming is Ba Ke's real name. Although the surname "Ba" is rare, there is indeed such a surname in Yuqing, which has been passed down from the people of the Warring States period. As for Ba Ke, it was just a name he chose for convenience after going abroad.

However, not many people gathered to watch the commotion, because the gossip that accompanied the news was that the Ba family's son seemed to be faring poorly, returning with empty hands. Who comes back from abroad without carrying large bags and small bags?

The sportswear he wore was new, but it was clearly a cheap domestic brand bought in a hurry. It didn't look like he had made money abroad at all.

Looking at his dark, weathered face, he was still in his twenties, and his body was lean and strong, indicating that he had been doing manual labor. This was far from the typical image of someone who had been abroad.

Therefore, at this moment, going to his house to watch the commotion or to offer congratulations seemed a bit inappropriate in this generally harmonious and friendly residential area. It was better to wait and see what happened next.

Whether out of schadenfreude or pity, this gave Ba Ke a rare quiet environment after returning home.

But someone still called Ba Dacheng, Ba Ke's father, a hardworking man who had spent his whole life working on the railway, to report the good news.

By the time Liu Shufen called her husband to report the good news, Ba Dacheng had already taken leave from the workshop and was on his way on a tricycle motorcycle.

Wearing a light gray shirt, with a brown jacket over it, and a small shoulder bag with frayed edges, Ba Ke's mother was embraced by her son. She might not be used to this European-style greeting, but at over fifty, she still felt a bit embarrassed. Feeling her mother's gray, disheveled hair and her lean, strong body, the young man who had once been cold-hearted enough to point a gun at someone's head suddenly felt a pang of sorrow!

Ba Ke found it hard to believe: "Didn't I send money back? In dollars, ten thousand dollars. How could you live like this?" Even with exchange rate fluctuations, Ba Ke had repeatedly explained that this was just to improve their lives, worried that giving too much might cause trouble. But it was still several hundred thousand.

Yet, when he got home, everything was just as it was when he first stepped into the courtyard, as if he had returned to over ten years ago.

The same poverty, the same hardship. The small apartment of over twenty square meters was the same dormitory building they had moved into when Ba Ke was in elementary school. On the wall were a few posters of Arnold Schwarzenegger, muscles bulging and holding a gun, which testified to his childhood fascination with adventure and excitement. Now, it seemed like a huge joke!

Liu Shufen's face had been a mix of smiles and tears since her son entered the house. Now, she was still hugging Ba Ke's arm: "Ever since you went abroad, your father has been talking about you... We used the money to buy a house. Nowadays, which girl would marry without a house... We didn't have the qualifications to take a loan, so we paid in full, and we saved a bit."

Ba Ke couldn't help rolling his eyes. Before he could say anything, his mother's old, probably worthless straight-bar counterfeit phone rang. Without even putting it to her ear, the loud volume carried the message: "Old sister! Old Ba has had a car accident... Come quickly! It's on the road by the third village!"

Liu Shufen, in a panic, wiped her tears and was about to rush out. Ba Ke reached out to stop her: "Don't panic, don't panic... Stay at home and wait for news. If you need any documents, procedures, or money at the hospital, I'll call you. The home phone number hasn't changed, right?" He took the phone and rushed out, grabbing a nylon rope from the door as he went. He vaguely remembered that when he was a child, Ba Dacheng had often used this rope to discipline him.

Liu Shufen seemed to suddenly realize that her son had returned. It felt as if the family now had a pillar. She nodded vigorously, patting her chest with her left hand, and watched her son take a few big steps out the door.

Nothing had changed.

Just like the dramatic changes he had seen on the way back, this corner of the railway residential area seemed to have been detached from the times. It was exactly the same as when he left seven years ago. The small ads on the walls had changed from Red Heart K nutritional supplements to broadband upgrades, but the fraudulent projects for treating venereal diseases by the old military doctor continued their historical mission.

So, he took a few big steps down the stairs and onto the road, running without the weight of weapons, his steps light, but his heart heavy, though he couldn't say why.

It was only a couple of hundred meters. Turning a corner, he saw a tricycle motorcycle overturned on the ground, not much deformed, while another car had crossed the center of the road and was riding on top of the motorcycle. The front engine compartment was smashed to pieces and scattered all over the ground!

Several passersby had gathered, anxious but unsure what to do, because Ba Dacheng was trapped!

The overturned tricycle's cargo bed was pressing on Ba Dacheng's legs. Ba Dacheng, sweating and with a face full of wrinkles, was in great pain. He was holding a straw hat that was almost worn through but wouldn't let go. A helmeted driver with a phone in hand was at a loss: "Old Ba... What should we do? Does it hurt...?" He tried in vain to push the heavy car, as part of it was riding on the motorcycle, and to free Ba Dacheng, they needed to lift the car.

But a harsh voice came: "Don't touch the scene! I've already called the traffic police and the insurance... If you damage the scene, you'll pay for it!" A man in a suit, with no visible injuries, waved his hands to stop them. Beside him, a young, curvaceous woman was holding a phone high, taking selfies of herself and the accident scene, loudly on the phone: "What bad luck! I and President Wang hit a motorcycle, come pick us up..."

The people trying to help were a bit hesitant, dissatisfied with the man's attitude of caring more about his car than a life. The helmeted driver, pale and helpless, explained: "You suddenly rushed over... We were fine..."

The man in the suit was righteous: "You don't even have a license plate! You're an unlicensed vehicle! You shouldn't be on the road! You're fully responsible!"

At this moment, Ba Ke's footsteps reached the car. Ignoring the commotion, his eyes were only on his father's pain-wracked face. He quickly took off his new sportswear, folded it, and placed it under his father's neck. Ba Dacheng, who had just opened his eyes, looked surprised at his son's dark face, as if he hadn't recognized him at first. Ba Ke's eyes quickly scanned the scene, and he covered his father's eyes: "No... It's okay, close your eyes..." He almost habitually used English, then jumped up and picked up the front bumper of the Japanese car, which had been knocked off by the tricycle. The thin steel plate in his hand felt light.

He handed it to the helmeted driver, pointing to an angle: "When I lift, put the steel plate in to create space and avoid pressing on the leg." The driver nodded, recognizing Ba Ke, and kept complaining: "Your father heard you were back and rushed... He didn't have time to avoid the car... It was really a head-on collision..."

Ba Ke didn't say anything, patted the driver's shoulder, and slipped under the slightly raised front of the car. Ignoring the oil and sharp edges from the damaged car bottom that were pressing into his shoulder, he tested the angle. Squatting, his legs seemed to burst with infinite strength. With a grunt, the car actually moved!

The car, weighing at least a ton, was still several hundred kilograms on one side!

Ba Ke knew how much weight he could squat and push in the battlefield gym...

The others, as if suddenly awakened, rushed to help lift. But just as they lifted it a bit, the man in the suit jumped over and pushed the helpers away, shouting: "My car! Will you pay for it?"

Using some techniques, Ba Ke was confident he could move the car alone, but it lost balance and tilted heavily toward the tricycle. The driver who had inserted the steel plate shouted: "It's going to crush him!"

Ba Ke was also in a panic, quickly putting his arm between the car and the tricycle to cushion the gap. His shoulder was hit by the heavy car bottom, and his legs trembled!

His bones seemed to be cracking! If not for the more difficult tests he had endured, Ba Ke might have fallen to his knees!

If he fell, the second impact would almost certainly sever his father's leg!

His teeth were grinding, and Ba Ke tightened his shoulders, his strong legs holding the weight. In the almost disbelieving eyes of the crowd, he stood firm and then pushed the car to the side, causing the other side, which had not been damaged much, to shatter.

Ba Ke seemed not to notice the blood flowing from his shoulder, and reached out to lift the tricycle. The man in the suit, as if mad, jumped and shouted: "You'll pay for my car... You've damaged my car!" He even reached out to pull Ba Ke, choosing to grab his waist because Ba Ke's upper body was dirty.

But when Ba Ke turned, it was like pulling an iron stake, almost making the man stumble. Enraged, he kicked the tricycle, which might have flipped and landed on Ba Dacheng.

Ba Ke finally got angry, grabbed the man's shoulder with his left hand, and delivered a familiar uppercut with his right hand.

The punch hit the man's diaphragm between his sternum and abdomen. Accompanied by the woman's scream, the man fell silently, curled up like a shrimp, making uncontrollable sounds but unable to move.

Finally free from the nagging man, the crowd had already lifted the tricycle. Ba Ke knelt down, touched his father, and first pulled the nylon rope from his neck, tying it around Ba Dacheng's thigh to stop the bleeding. He then broke off the car's two wipers, placed them next to Ba Dacheng's deformed leg, and smiled at his father's eyes, which were trying to open: "Dad, I'm back... You won't have to suffer anymore."

Ba Dacheng, struggling through the pain, smiled weakly and loosened his left hand, revealing a bag of braised pork head: "You... like to eat..."

Ba Ke's heart trembled. While his father was distracted, he quickly pulled and adjusted the broken and misaligned tibia, and forced the broken fibula back into place. He then used the wipers as splints, wrapping them with torn pieces of his shirt and tying them to the uninjured leg. The actions were so quick, they were almost a blur.

But Ba Dacheng let out a scream: "Ba Zhiming! You bastard!"

Who was he cursing?

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