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墨書 Inktalez
In early January 2002, Duan Haiming called Guo Xuefeng aside.
"Xuefeng, do you think we can get ahead like this?" Duan Haiming lit a cigarette.
"What do you mean?" Guo Xuefeng understood but pretended to be confused.
"That more than ten thousand yuan from Zhang Xing is enough for us to live for a year."
Duan Haiming lowered his voice, "Don't you think it's unfair?"
Guo Xuefeng fell silent for a moment. "Brother Haiming, what are you trying to say?"
"I'm thinking," Duan Haiming took a deep drag from his cigarette, "since he is unkind, why should we be righteous?"
Guo Xuefeng's heart raced, but he hesitated to respond. "This... this doesn't seem right."
"What's wrong with it?"
Duan Haiming spoke through gritted teeth, "We ask him for money, and he acts poor. When we have difficulties, he turns a blind eye. Why should someone like that live well?"
A few days later, Duan Haiming sought out Li Zhiwei again.
"Zhiwei, how's your son's illness?" Duan Haiming asked with feigned concern.
"What can I do? We can't afford treatment," Li Zhiwei replied with a bitter smile. "The doctor said it would take at least three thousand yuan; where am I supposed to get that?"
"Three thousand? That's a lot!" Duan Haiming feigned surprise. "With the kind of hard labor we do, who knows when we'll save up that much."
Li Zhiwei's expression changed. "Brother Haiming, what do you mean by that?"
"Nothing much," Duan Haiming patted his shoulder. "Just feel it's unfair in this world. Some people have more money than they can spend while others watch their children suffer without treatment."
This tactic was effective. Li Zhiwei's son was indeed very ill, and the medical expenses weighed heavily on his mind.
Duan Haiming's words struck right at his pain point.
In the following days, Duan Haiming acted like a lobbyist, talking to other villagers one by one.
To Teng Zhen Ting, he said, "You've been owed wages by the contractor; Zhang Xing has money but won't lend it to you—does that still count as being a fellow villager?"
To Xiao Renquan, he said, "We're all suffering; why should he be the only one to prosper?"
To Xu Yulin, he said, "That money of his might have come from shady dealings; taking it would be doing the right thing."
On the night of January 10th, the eight of them gathered again to drink.
"I went to the construction site again today looking for work, but they said I was too old," Teng Zhen Ting said with a frown. "At forty, no one wants me. What am I going to do in the future?"
"Exactly!" Xiao Renquan chimed in. "People like us are destined to be poor for life."
Duan Haiming seized the opportunity to speak up. "Not necessarily. Some people can get rich; why can't we?"
"Haiming, what exactly are you trying to say?" Xu Yulin asked directly.
"Let's lay it all out on the table, no need to beat around the bush."
Duan Haiming glanced around and lowered his voice. "I think we have a right to a share of that money from Zhang Xing."
"We're just seeking justice," he added.
The room fell silent, with only their breathing breaking the stillness.
"You... you mean?" Li Zhiwei stammered.
Duan Haiming went all in. "Since he doesn't want to help his fellow villagers, then we should take it ourselves!"
"That's robbery!" Teng Zhen Ting's face turned pale.
"What robbery?" Duan Haiming countered. "Why should he alone keep all that money?"
Guo Xuefeng, emboldened by a few drinks, spoke up. "Haiming is right! Zhang Xing has money but won't help his fellow villagers; people like him don't deserve to be wealthy!"
"But... but that's illegal!" Xiao Renquan still had some sense left.
Duan Haiming scoffed. "Isn't it illegal for the rich to exploit the poor? We're just seeking fairness!"
Li Zhiwei thought of his gravely ill son and gritted his teeth. "If... if we could really get that money, my son would be saved."
"Exactly!" Duan Haiming pressed on. "Zhiwei's son needs treatment, and Zhenting is owed wages by the contractor; everyone is struggling. We can just say we're helping Zhang Xing do some good!"
Xu Yulin was still hesitant. "What if we get caught?"
Guo Xuefeng, now quite tipsy, said, "Who would know it was us? We're all from the same village; who would suspect us?"
"Right!" Duan Haiming nodded. "Besides, we're just going to scare him into giving us the password; we don't really want his life."
His words eased the minds of those who were still uncertain.
"No killing, just taking money," Xiao Renquan seemed to be convincing himself. "If that's the case..."
But not everyone was fully on board with the idea.
Among the eight people, they were clearly divided into several factions. Duan Haiming and Guo Xuefeng were the most enthusiastic; they had been eager to pull off this scheme for a long time. Li Zhiwei, concerned about his sick son, was somewhat supportive but still had reservations. Teng Zhen Ting, Xiao Renquan, and Xu Yulin were hesitant, wanting the money but fearing the consequences. The other two didn’t want to participate but felt pressured by the group and dared not openly oppose.
"Everyone, let's not overthink this," Duan Haiming finally declared. "Since Zhang Xing doesn't consider us fellow townsfolk, we shouldn't hold back!"
"After all, Zhang Xing's money comes from dubious sources; taking it would be doing the right thing!"
"He has plenty of money; losing a bit won’t hurt him!"
"Why should we be the ones to suffer and stay poor?"
As drinks flowed, their moral boundaries gradually loosened. Duan Haiming proposed a specific plan: "Zhang Xing goes home every night; we can..."
"Wait!" Teng Zhen Ting suddenly became more alert. "Brother Haiming, I think we should reconsider. If something goes wrong, we're all finished!"
Duan Haiming's expression darkened. "Zhen Ting, you can't say that. We're all from the same hometown; if one of us gets rich, we all do. Are you thinking of backing out now?"
The pressure of the group was overwhelming. Teng Zhen Ting looked at the others' expressions and ultimately nodded in agreement.
"Alright," Duan Haiming said with a satisfied smile. "Since everyone agrees, let’s plan this out properly."
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