Chapter 2 Although I am just a sheep

  When I got off the bus, Zhao Dan and Lin He Xiang had already left. I nodded to thank the red-faced man holding a wine jug and the young white-collar worker who went on a date with his girlfriend for their righteous words just now.

  I'm taking the No. 24 bus, which is a ring road line. I get off at a remote suburban area. One kilometer west of the station, there's an inconspicuous yet strangely styled building: high walls topped with electric wires, and if you look closely from afar, you can vaguely see tall watchtowers inside, with armed guards patrolling on top.

  The big iron gate in front of me had five large characters written on it: First Prison of the City.

  Entering from the side gate, I registered and handed over my personal belongings to the prison guard for inspection. After passing through another iron gate, Prison Guard Wang received me. Although we weren't old acquaintances, we had met several times before. With a gentle tone, he said, "You've come to visit your dad again?"

  "Is Wang okay?"

  "Hehe, okay, you go in first, he'll be here soon."

  I nodded and walked into the spacious visiting room, casually sitting down at a table. Before long, I heard the sound of the iron gate in the prisoner's corridor responding, my dad came out with a serious expression but a leisurely pace, followed by a prison guard, whose name I couldn't call out, but had seen several times before. I smiled at him and he nodded back at me. At this time, my dad sat down calmly, while the guard retreated a few steps to stand in a corner with his hands behind his back, looking like a bodyguard for a high-ranking official if not for the prisoner's uniform he was wearing.

  "Not busy today?" My old man's thick, calm male voice asked slowly, seems to be in a good mood, otherwise he wouldn't have greeted me first.

  I smiled and said, "Even if I'm busy, I have to come see you."

  The old man ignored my flattery and asked in a tone as if he were investigating a lower-level project: "Is that store of yours still open?"

  "It's open, what can I do if it's not?"

  "Can you earn money?"

  "There should be some melons and dates left."

  The old man nodded: "Either you have a suitable profession to quit, or sell it." As he said this, the old man seemed a bit unnatural, "In those years, I was also blind, and I came here with my life...".

  "Dad, you're worrying again!" I said with a busy laugh.

  "What's wrong with your head?" The old man finally saw that tuft of hair on me.

  "Don't mention it, let lightning strike me!"

  The old man slapped the table: "You're fighting with someone again, aren't you?"

  "Look at me now - have you ever seen gangsters fighting with lighters and setting each other's hair on fire?"

  The old man also smiled.

  I told the old man about what happened on the bus, and he listened with a serious expression. After I finished, he said, "The world is really not following rules anymore. In the past, if someone was caught doing 'small tricks', even an old lady would dare to scold them." Finally, he said, "Hey, why am I telling you all this?"

  I said: "You don't have to say it, I'm not a kid anymore."

  The old man's expression turned serious again as he said solemnly: "Yang Yang..."

  I buried my head in the table: "Can you not call me that?"

  The old man's thoughts were not affected at all, and he continued: "I'll tell you again, don't interfere with the company's affairs. Be a low-key person, when others hit your left cheek..."

  I hastily added the second half of the sentence: "I'll offer him my right cheek as well!"

  The old man nodded in satisfaction: "Hmm, right, can you do it?"

  I stood on tiptoes and said calmly, "No one can do better than me."

  The old man smiled: "Did the lightning not fry your brain?"

  I rubbed my scalp and said, "Following your teachings, I'm ready to let it be split once more on this side. Go ahead and give me a bowl cut."

  The old man put away his smile and asked: "How's your Aunt Meng doing? I heard she has a new move again?"

  "You'd better teach me a lesson, she's got the upper hand now that her new smoothie shop is open, whoever doesn't give Meng Lao Da face will be dead meat!"

  The old man sighed and said, "I'm afraid of this point, she's been struggling for so many years, but hasn't changed a bit, and will eventually harm herself."

  "What are you reading again, learning so many new words?" I smiled and pushed the two soft Wanzai cigarettes to him: "Don't worry about these things outside, just wait a few more months and you can come out and deal with her yourself!"

  The old man put away his cigarette and said, "From now on, don't bring these things with you. We have enough, besides, you're not rich either."

  I smiled and said, "Although the deal didn't go through, I can still afford two packs of cigarettes." I asked him, "Does the warden need me to go and give him a heads up?"

  "It's all right, Aunt Meng has made arrangements." The old man stroked his cigarette case and said, "This woman is reliable except for being a bit impulsive at times."

  "I stood up and said: 'Then I'll leave.'"

  The old man stood up and saw them off, the father and son shook hands, nodded to each other, and parted ways solemnly.

  It was Prison Guard Little Wang who escorted me to the gate again. I said, "Dad is troubling Brother Wang with a lot of bother."

  Xiao Wang politely said: "No need to be polite, Boss Long won't be able to stay here for a few more days either. After he leaves, I'll still have to ask you all to take care of me."

  "That's necessary."

  Xiao Wang smiled and said: "Actually, it's just a matter of saying that people like us are taboo, I know."

  I laughed: "Look what you said, I've already boasted outside that there's someone in our prison system!"

  Xiao Wang dazed: "There's nothing to brag about, Xiao Long I'm telling you, I still admire your dad, he told you all for your own good."

  I nodded: "I know."

  "Alright, you can go now, be careful on the road."

  I was just about to turn back and wave when Xiao Wang shouted from behind me: "Don't look back, this place is unlucky."

  I rushed out of the prison gate with a busy and nervous heart.

  A taxi happened to be coming straight towards me, probably taking a shortcut through the small road. After what happened this morning, I didn't feel like taking the bus either, so I hailed it and told the driver: "To the train station."

  The driver looked at me and asked: "East Station or West Station?"

  Dong Station

  "Is there still a train at East Station? What are you going there for?"

  I smiled and said, "Never mind."

  Let me introduce myself during this time. My name is... uh, let's talk about my dad first. My dad's name is Long Bao Hua, and before he was 40 years old, he became a well-known figure in the Jianghu world as "Dragon Brother". He was respected by his peers for being reliable, fair, and responsible. In his early years, he took on construction projects, later expanding to become the leader of our city's construction industry. Six years ago, due to resistance against an invading force from another province called the "Haihe Gang", a massive fight involving over a thousand people broke out. The incident was too big and caught the attention of higher authorities. My old man took responsibility for the company and turned himself in, being sentenced to 8 years in prison for gathering crowds to fight and intentional assault. That's his background information.

  As for Meng Yi, she is my father's second wife, that is, my stepmother. My biological mother passed away due to illness when I was 3 years old. After my father lived alone for 3 years, he met Meng Yi. At that time, Meng Lao Da was already a powerful figure, controlling the sand and stone monopoly in a district. During a "business conflict", the two of them fell deeply in love at first sight, and Meng Yi became my stepmother.

  The two of them, although from the same background, are worlds apart in their behavior. Meng's wife is a straightforward and forthright woman who speaks her mind, never beating around the bush. At least two out of every three sentences she utters contain polite phrases to inquire about others' female relatives. She's always smoking and drinking, a true embodiment of being able to take it as well as dish it out.

  My dad is different, having spent half his life in the underworld, rarely heard uttering profanities. He's usually taciturn, enjoys reading all sorts of literary magazines, and can put what he learns into practice. From time to time, he'll come up with a few phrases that sound particularly profound but are actually meaningless upon closer examination. He never advocates for violence, instead being more like a businessman who weighs every situation carefully.

  I got to know Aunt Meng when I was 6 years old, and naturally we spent our days together. An unavoidable issue is education. Aunt Meng has a rough exterior but traditional ideas in her bones, with the expectation of passing on the family business from generation to generation. From a young age, she unconsciously wanted to cultivate me into a future boss. The most common phrases she said to me were: "What? He dares to snatch your toys? Beat him! What? He dares to steal your candy? Beat him! What? That hole on my sable coat was burned by you? Don't run, little rabbit!"

  ...except for the last case, my old man always hummed his nose and said heavily: "Don't teach bad kids!" The old man himself didn't like to use violence, and he was even more disgusted with me fighting. Every time I came back, whether I won or lost, what awaited me was another inexplicable beating.

  On this matter, from the name you gave me, I can see Lao Tzu's attitude. My surname is Long, and my given name is... Cough, let's start from the day I was born instead.

  The day I was born, the weather was gloomy and overcast, with a solemn atmosphere hanging in the air between heaven and earth - to put it simply, it was a heavily overcast day. I arrived in this world with great fanfare, coughing up amniotic fluid while wailing loudly. My dad's trusted subordinates came to pay their respects and inquire about the "prince's" name. Some strategist-like figures presented memorandums, one suggesting the name "Long Dingbang", another proposing "Long Zhenhai". My dad listened and shook his head, saying: "These names have too much of a Jianghu flavor, don't you have any with a bit of Western flair?"

  My mother also didn't want me to be like a villain in a martial arts movie, so she casually said: "Then let's call him Long Yang."

  My dad's subordinates all frowned: "Yang - sheep, isn't that saying 'at someone's mercy'?"

  Who knew that my dad would glare at me and say, "What's wrong with being taken advantage of? I'd rather he be taken advantage of. One sheep isn't enough, I'll give him another one: let's call it Dragon Sheep!"

  Long sheep sheep... Long sheep sheep... Do you know why I don't want to say my name? In today's popular language, this is called a variety of tragic, cupped, and not giving power, but it's quite cute.

  Now that I think about it, the surname Long has a natural air of authority to it from the very beginning, no matter what you call it, it won't sound too bad. Even if it's something like Long Wu or Long Liu, it still carries a hint of old-fashioned elegance. My dad added two sheep to my name in order to restrain me, which shows that he had plans for my life from an early age. He absolutely did not allow me to set foot in the business world, and in a certain sense, there's a bit of self-disablement to it - people in this line of work would never support someone who came from the green pastures as their leader unless they had no other choice...

  Division line

  Mixing is matching, confusion is mismatching, a difference of one word, two completely different concepts. As for how to match, the next chapter will have a clue.

  Soft and tender old shameless asking for votes, asking for clicks, extending Liu Lao Liu-style greetings to the vast majority of young people!