Chapter 8

Bak really adheres to the principle of finishing work and then calling it a day, never staying up late to make money. This attitude is actually influenced by his life in Eastern Europe.

Life there is extremely slow-paced, with people often taking their time at work, content with just enough to eat and drink. They take vacations and enjoy life without hesitation, leaving work on time without lingering a minute longer. The GDP may not be high, but the quality of life is not low. However, the downside is that everything relies on aid, even the country itself.

Life conditions in the country are indeed much better. What Bak frowns upon is the amount of leftover meat on the plates. Most of it is from girls who try a bit and then eat the side dishes like yellow peaches and tomatoes, leaving the white meat behind. This is a real waste. Shaking his head, he plans to put less meat and more vegetables on the plates tomorrow, gathering the leftover meat together and throwing it into the trash.

Habits are something that need adjustment. Sorting garbage is almost an instinctive behavior for Bak. Not only in the cities of Eastern Europe, but also on the battlefield, where sorting various types of garbage is essential for survival, to prevent tracking and to clean up traces.

Just as he was about to throw the bag into a large, foul-smelling iron bin about ten meters away, he heard rustling sounds from behind the bin. Many people throw things from a distance because of the smell, causing more garbage to be outside the bin than inside.

Bak thought it was a stray dog looking for food. He whistled and called out a couple of times, then took a step forward and threw the plastic bag over.

As soon as the bag left his hand, a dirty face appeared from behind the bin. It was a human face, with messy, short hair that looked like it had been gnawed by a dog, just like when Bak was first picked up by Fang Lingying. It was a little beggar!

Bak felt a bit apologetic and called out to the boy who had hurriedly opened the plastic bag: "Wait, wait a moment, I'll get you some water, eat slowly." He went back to the stall and took the two cans of beer he had gotten for free. To be honest, he had been walking back with this kind of attitude, neither surprised nor pitying. In Eastern Europe and Central Asia, the attitude towards beggars is quite good, but in the country, they are often discriminated against.

But when he returned to the garbage pile, the small figure was already gone. Bak shrugged and made a face, missing the chance to interact with a fellow beggar. He then called his parents to pack up and go home.

However, the next day, he refused to let his parents help him set up the stall, citing his father's injured leg. He said it was tiring enough for them to help him buy ingredients and prepare during the day, and they needed to rest at night.

But at today's stall, Bak still had two helpers.

One was the little beggar from last night, still with dirty patches on his face. From the moment Bak started setting up the tables, the boy lingered around, tentatively reaching out to help move chairs and foam boxes of ingredients. The foam box, which contained about thirty to forty pounds of meat, was too heavy for the small frame, but he tried his best to move it. Bak smiled and threw him a pair of rubber gloves and a mask: "Wash your hands and face before working, or you'll scare away the customers!"

He liked such children. Being poor or struggling is not scary; a diligent and willing attitude can bring everything.

The child's eyes lit up with joy, and he nodded vigorously, picking up the gloves and mask from the table. He squatted by the water bucket, washed his hands, put on the gloves and mask, and stood by Bak, eagerly waiting for instructions.

Clearly, he was very diligent. Bak directed him to wipe the tables and place small flower vases and chopsticks at the center of each table, which he did skillfully. However, he was a bit weak and couldn't help Bak move the skewers of meat onto the grill, looking anxious and afraid of being fired. He then picked up a broom from the roadside to sweep the area.

Bak went to a nearby convenience store and bought a bread and a bottle of mineral water for the child: "Eat first, then work." The leftover meat from yesterday was given to the child, but now he looked hungry and weak. As soon as the smell of the grilled meat wafted out, Bak noticed the child swallowing saliva several times.

The child, wearing a mask, had particularly large eyes. Even in the dirt, the bright pupils were wide open, as if trying not to cry. He silently took the items and squatted by the grill, devouring the bread. Bak felt a pang of emotion. He had intended to kick the child playfully but smiled and pretended not to see: "It's so hot, aren't you hot with your back to the grill? Sit on that chair over there!"

The child lowered his head, shaking it and eating the bread, trying not to let Bak see the tears on the bread.

Of course, the other helper sitting on the chair was Liu Changyuan.

Bak saw a reflection of his former self, the brat who didn't understand his parents' hard work.

Liu Changyuan, with a look of impatience and nonchalance, leaned against a plastic table, playing with his phone without lifting his head: "Brother Bak, when are you closing the stall? I have a team game scheduled. Do you play games? How much can you pay me this month? Running a food stall is a bit embarrassing to mention to friends and classmates."

He was already an adult, yet he still lived off his elderly parents and felt embarrassed about it.

In contrast, the little beggar, who had stuffed the food into his mouth, taken a few sips of water, and then jumped up to start wiping tables and taking plates, made Bak feel ashamed for him.

Bak had no obligation to persuade or educate him. Seeing the little beggar set up the tables, he started frying the vegetables he had already chopped, adding onions, lotus root, and other ingredients...

Bak's parents didn't come. Liu Shufen hoped Bak would bring a girl home after work, and she would thank the Buddha. But Bak's father, Ba Dacheng, had some doubts.

During the day, besides preparing ingredients, Bak did one thing: he went to his father's workshop to make two knives, as the barbecue tools were not suitable.

He used the most common shock-absorbing steel plate, not from trains, as they were too thick, but from maintenance vehicles. He cut and flattened the small steel plates, polished and sharpened them to his desired size. The design was quite unusual, like two elongated and thickened watermelon knives. The square blade had a sharp, upward curve, making the originally four-finger-wide blade have a palm-sized flat head. Holding the handle, the long, flat blade could be used like a scraper in a flat-bottomed square pan. The half-meter-long body with a one-inch-thick spine was particularly imposing. When Bak was chopping vegetables at home, it was incredibly handy.

Just before leaving the workshop, he saw a piece of abandoned steel wire in the corner. He had an idea, heated it at high temperature, then hammered and flattened it on a press, and quenched it, turning it into a steel block with a pattern. It already had a knife-like shape, but he hesitated and didn't polish and sharpen it, instead putting the palm-sized steel block in his pocket. He smiled and handed out a round of cigarettes to his father's coworkers, leaving them stunned.

Ba Dacheng, who had worked in the workshop for a lifetime, and his coworkers were very familiar with the equipment. Sometimes they secretly made kitchen knives or chisels for home use. But seeing his son, who had been selling barbecue for years, operate the equipment so skillfully was impressive. It was one thing to be familiar with the equipment, which could be learned in a few days, but the long, shiny steel knives his son made in just a few moves were truly remarkable.

They looked fiercely intimidating.

The workers, not knowing how to describe it, muttered to Ba Dacheng: "Wow... these are controlled weapons, right? Has Zhiming's household registration been processed? Don't let the police see and ask for identification."

Ba Dacheng then rushed to the railway police station to sort things out.

Now, Bak held the two knives in his hands, without handles, just wrapped in towels. The curved blade could be used as a shovel, one for clean tasks like spreading seasonings on the meat, and the other for dirty tasks like moving charcoal. It was very convenient, a multi-functional design.

The business was very popular, and more people came today than yesterday, so Bak was glad to have some help.

It was busy, but Bak was organized and efficient. The little beggar didn't know how to serve customers, just following and helping with chopsticks when people sat down. Bak naturally remembered the order, serving those sitting first, then those standing around. He didn't buy more chairs, just the six tables and twenty or so plastic chairs.

At this moment, Liu Changyuan, sitting on a chair and playing with his phone, suddenly seemed to wake up, looking around at the crowd, mumbling a few words, and then lowering his head to continue playing, not even thinking of helping or giving up his chair. Bak didn't care. His barbecue, once a large piece was grilled, could be sliced into many plates, a wholesale approach. He kept grilling one after another, but the fuss over choosing between beef, mutton, and pork annoyed him, so he decided to only grill mutton tomorrow!

Others would try to perfect their business when it was doing well, but Bak took the simplest approach. However, today, with two small fans blowing, it was much more comfortable. He quickly started plating, and the little beggar, holding a shoebox and a plate, delivered them to each table, taking the money and carefully checking the change from the box, showing good arithmetic skills.

But as more people came, Bak's large knives became even more useful. One side of the blade, made from the unpolished shock-absorbing steel, had a rough, black, oily texture. Bak held the blade, using it as a tray to carry a row of plates, a skill no one noticed. But the heavy steel blade, with so many plates on it, held steady in one hand, showed his strength and skill.

The little beggar followed behind, holding the box and collecting empty plates. Both, wearing masks and gloves, complemented each other.

It was almost like a performance.