Chapter Ninety-Four: Liu the Skilled Thief

The train station in Qiqihar was bustling with noise and excitement. Though there were still more than ten days to go before the New Year, the station had already begun to take on the scale and chaos of the Spring Festival travel rush. Passengers from every corner of the country waited for their trains. The seats in the waiting hall had long since been filled, so many people sat directly on the floor, or bought newspapers to lay out for a quick game of cards to pass the time. Others queued with instant noodle cups at the hot water dispenser, and the smoking room was already packed to suffocation with smokers, the thick haze nearly choking all who entered. The waiting hall was a tapestry of human life; no matter your status, you could only wait obediently for the train’s arrival.

Wang Yuqing wore pure white headphones, hoping music would shield her from the outside clamor. But even with the volume turned up as high as it would go, the songs could not drown out the surrounding cacophony. Sitting beside her, Xiao Lin seemed unbothered by it all. He was deep in conversation with a middle-aged man about life—a somewhat amusing sight: a youth who had yet to step into society, talking philosophy with an old-timer who’d weathered years on the streets. Yet the two chatted away happily.

“You’re quite something, young man. Some of the things you say, even those with far more experience couldn’t put into words,” the uncle said, growing fonder of Xiao Lin with every word, wishing he could find a son-in-law like him to chat with every day.

“You’re too kind, sir. I’m just making casual conversation,” Xiao Lin replied modestly.

“What time is it?” the uncle asked suddenly, as if remembering something.

“It’s one fifty in the afternoon,” Xiao Lin said, checking his phone. No sooner had he spoken than the uncle leapt up, grabbed his suitcase from under the chair, and dashed toward the ticket gate, exclaiming as he ran, “My train’s at one fifty-two!” With a final burst of speed, he just managed to slip past the ticket check, sprinting with all his might for the train that was about to depart, a small posse of ticket inspectors in hot pursuit.

The scene made Xiao Lin laugh aloud. He took off Wang Yuqing’s headphones to tell her about the amusing incident, but she did not laugh. She merely snorted, snatched her headphones back, and resumed listening to her music. Smacking his lips, Xiao Lin reflected for a while before realizing she was upset that he hadn’t paid attention to her, choosing instead to chat with the uncle. Realizing this, he grinned mischievously and reached out to tickle her waist, making Wang Yuqing squirm with laughter.

“Enough… stop it… you’re tickling me to death,” she pleaded in a soft, flustered voice.

“You little thing, getting jealous over an uncle,” Xiao Lin teased wickedly.

“Hmph, serves you right for ignoring me. I’m going to the restroom,” she huffed, taking off her headphones and walking away. Left alone, Xiao Lin picked up his phone, intending to play a game to pass the time.

He opened a puzzle game called 2048. On a four-by-four grid, the system would provide small numbers—twos or fours. The player could swipe up, down, left, or right, and tiles with the same number would merge when they collided, combining their values. The goal: to create a tile with the number 2048 within the sixteen-grid space. Being a numbers enthusiast, Xiao Lin was quickly addicted and played whenever he had free time.

Liu Yidao was a seasoned pickpocket who prowled train and bus stations. He had started at age fifteen, once the prized apprentice of the notorious southern thief “Hot Chestnut.” Under his mentor, he’d learned every trick in the book. But a life of crime carries risk, and one day his master made a fatal error: he picked the pocket of an undercover policeman in a bus station and was caught red-handed. Luckily, Liu Yidao had not been with him at the time and thus escaped arrest, but he no longer dared to stay in any city for long. Thus, he drifted from place to place, now finding himself in Qiqihar.

At this moment, he spotted a heavily made-up, overweight woman with a thick gold chain around her neck and a small purse, heading toward the ticket gate. With one glance, Liu Yidao could tell her wallet was tucked into the right corner of her bag. He exchanged a look with a scrawny boy nearby. The boy nodded, instantly understanding.

With a sly grin, Liu Yidao quickly followed the woman, the boy right behind him. In a few steps, he was directly behind her. As he brushed past, his left wrist twisted deftly to reveal a thin, three-foot blade, which he gripped between his thumb and index finger. In the brief moment of passing, the blade sliced open the right corner of her bag with a barely audible hiss, and a red wallet slipped out, caught perfectly by the boy behind. The boy quickly stashed the wallet in his coat pocket and slipped away, while Liu Yidao turned a corner and circled back. Their teamwork was flawless; the whole act took only seconds, and the woman, oblivious to her loss, continued toward the gate.

“Boss, I counted—it’s over four thousand yuan. A real score! We’ll eat well tonight!” the boy said excitedly.

“Is that all it takes to make you this happy? Back in my day…” Liu Yidao began to boast, regaling the boy with tales of past glories. The boy only sighed inwardly, used to his boss’s stories.

Liu Yidao was the name given to him in the underworld, but his real name was Liu Ming. He’d earned his nickname from his skill with a razor blade. Thieves, too, were ranked, and Liu Yidao belonged among the elite. Without sharp eyes, a thief could only make small-time scores; without skillful hands, one had no place in the trade. The wallet just stolen had been the result of keen observation, deft technique, and perfect coordination. For these reasons, his wanted poster hung high in police stations, marked with special notes.

As Liu Yidao basked in his triumph, his eyes suddenly lit up with undisguised desire. It was Wang Yuqing, returning from the restroom, whom he happened to spot. Liu Yidao’s greatest flaw was his lechery; seeing the beautiful Wang Yuqing sent a rush of heat through him.

The scrawny boy, however, noticed the bracelet on Wang Yuqing’s wrist. He nudged Liu Yidao. “Boss, that bracelet she’s wearing must be worth a lot. Should we…”

Before he could finish, Liu Yidao smacked him on the head. “All you think about is money. How vulgar! Such a beauty deserves something more refined,” Liu Yidao said with a lecherous grin.

The boy sighed inwardly, knowing his boss’s old habits had surfaced once again.