hotmtlnovel Chapter 52 On the Eve of Victory
Chapter 52 On the Eve of Victory
Chapter 52 On the Eve of Victory
Winter has passed and spring has arrived; more than two months have gone by in the blink of an eye. The two have made great progress in their cutting board skills and are now able to handle some inexpensive ingredients with ease. They have also gradually gotten used to the busy rhythm of going to school during the day and working at night.
Until six months ago, they were living a carefree university life, but now they are forced to shuttle between the classroom and the kitchen. During the day, they sit at their desks and discuss foreign cultures with their classmates who have high noses and deep accents, and at night, they stand in front of the cutting board and talk about the inheritance of Shandong cuisine with chefs who speak with thick local accents. They seem to be living two completely different lives.
Day after day, Hu Yi gradually grew tired of this routine. Every day, he would tie on his apron, put on his hat, and just chop and mince, making a racket. When he was free, he could only chat with the cooks or go outside to smoke and daydream. It was extremely boring.
Li Baoqing, however, maintained his enthusiasm. After finishing his work at the chopping board, he would rush to help others with chores such as moving and cleaning. Occasionally, when he had a spare moment, he would watch the master chefs cook, ask Lao Wei for some tips and experiences, and couldn't help but be eager to find an opportunity to try his hand at cooking.
With someone willing to do the work, the chefs were naturally happy to have some free time. However, it was absolutely out of the question for them to cook for the guests; they could only occasionally prepare a simple cold dish or help everyone prepare dinner.
The kitchen staff usually just mix up the leftovers from the day and stir-fry or stew them casually, without much fancy cooking. However, the chefs usually take turns cooking, and they can make any dish taste delicious.
Li Baoqing, being a complete novice, lacked any real skill or technique. With Lao Wei's intermittent guidance, he could barely manage to cook something passable. No one really cared about the taste; they always praised him, making Li Baoqing feel quite pleased with himself.
To be fair, the job wasn't particularly strenuous, but the pay was pitifully low. Even with a meal provided every day, they couldn't save much money in a month. Although they weren't exactly struggling financially, the thought of having almost nothing left after paying all the fees for the new semester meant that Hu and Li were still trying to be as frugal as possible.
Frugality isn't just about spending money. Since they're busy day and night during the week, their weekend rest time becomes even more precious. In the past, they would sleep in their dorms every weekend, reluctant to get up even when the sun was high in the sky. Now, however, they cherish this rare opportunity to get some fresh air and take advantage of the brief spring sunshine to wander around.
There's a Chinese saying: "In the second and eighth months of the lunar calendar, people wear whatever they want." This means that the weather in these months is unpredictable, with varying temperatures, so people dress accordingly. This saying also applies to Moscow, except the months are different. It's only May now, and the weather is fluctuating wildly, sometimes chilly, sometimes warm. Those who are sensitive to the cold are still bundled up in fur coats, while those who are resistant to the cold have already switched to shirts.
This year, the Labor Day holiday fell on a weekend, and a few days later was Victory Day in Russia and the World Anti-Fascist War, meaning schools would be closed for almost the entire first ten days of May. Hu Yi and Li Baoqing heard that Moscow would be holding various commemorative events on the eve of Victory Day, so they decided to go to Victory Square to join the festivities.
Zhou Dali didn't go with them. He was a quiet person who preferred to stay still. During holidays, he would lie in bed reading the novels Hu Yi had brought from China. When he got sleepy, he would take a nap and then continue reading when he woke up. Hu and Li knew his nature and didn't insist.
Victory Square is a large square built to commemorate the victory in the anti-fascist war. It is several times larger than Red Square, Russia's most famous square, and is extremely impressive. Today, under the bright spring sunshine and on a Saturday, the square is bustling with activity, filled with the sounds of birdsong. Many people are taking photos around the World War II tanks and airplanes that were specially brought in.
On the other side of the square, several young men and women in traditional costumes sang and danced, accompanied by someone playing the accordion. Not far from them, several tour groups were gathered around the Triumphal Arch, built to commemorate the Russo-French War of 1812. Guides from various countries recounted in different languages the glorious deeds of General Kutuzov in defeating Napoleon. Li Baoqing looked up at the sculptures atop the Arc de Triomphe and couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for that era of war and conquest.
Beneath the towering Victory Monument, the resounding bugle call echoed as a dozen or so World War II veterans, dressed in various uniforms and adorned with medals, stood in neat rows, singing patriotic war songs accompanied by a military band. Though their hair was white and they were nearing the end of their lives, the veterans were all sprightly and resolute. Their powerful voices conveyed a desolation and chilling intensity that only those who had not experienced the crucible of war could sing, and were filled with the joy and pride that only victors possess.
After the song ended, a hunchbacked old soldier gazed at Hu Yi, who stood opposite him, for a long time. His kind but cloudy eyes seemed to hold a hint of sadness; perhaps Hu Yi's Eastern appearance reminded him of a foreign friend he had met years ago. Hu Yi returned his smile, trying to recall the old man's agile figure on the battlefield in his youth, and couldn't help but sigh at the brevity of life and the relentless passage of time.
After wandering around the square for two hours and taking some photos, it was already noon, and the two of them were feeling a bit hungry. To save money, they tried to avoid eating out as much as possible, so they took the subway back to their dormitory.
Passing by the Arabic restaurant downstairs in Building 6, Hu Yi happened to see his classmate, the boastful Uga, sitting dejectedly at an outdoor table, looking utterly miserable. Hu Yi greeted him from afar, "Uga, what brings you here?"
Wu Ga looked up and saw Hu Yi. The worry on his face instantly vanished, and he called out in his hoarse voice, "Anton? That's great! Come and sit down!"
"You wanted to see me?" Hu Yi stopped in his tracks. "What is it?"
Wu Ga trotted over to shake hands with Li Baoqing, then turned to Hu Yi and asked, "Anton, are you free tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow? I'm free during the day. Why?"
"Great, great! Sit down and let's talk!" Without waiting for a reply, Wuga pulled him to the table and beckoned to Li Baoqing, "Come on, friend, sit down with me."
The two had no choice but to pull up chairs and sit down. Hu Yi asked curiously, "What's the matter?" Uga clenched his right fist and slapped his left palm several times. "It's very important. I need help. The Azerbaijanis need help! Can you come tomorrow?"
"What do you want me to do?" Hu Yi was completely baffled.
"Fight!" Uga said solemnly, "Fight the skinheads!"
"What the hell? Skinheads?" Hu Yi looked at Wu Ga and smiled. "I can't help you with that. Find someone else. I'm going back to eat." He then got up to leave.
Wuga grabbed him, saying, "Don't go! This is a restaurant, isn't it? We can eat and talk."
It was lunchtime, and the aroma of Turkish kebabs wafted from the restaurant entrance. Uga's suggestion immediately whetted Hu Yi's appetite. Li Baoqing also secretly swallowed hard. The two exchanged a glance, instantly forgetting all about saving money.
A few minutes later, the three men returned to their seats, each carrying a plate of grilled meat and a beer. Uga looked at Hu Yi with great urgency: "Anton, listen to me, those skinheads are really wicked!"
"That's right, it's awful." Hu Yi picked up his knife and fork, cut off a piece of meat, and stuffed it into his mouth.
"On April 20th, the skinheads injured many of us. So we made an agreement with them to have a face-to-face battle tomorrow at noon!"
"You? Who do you mean?"
"Azerbaijanis, Turks, Chechens, Georgians, and—many more. Probably over a hundred."
The countries mentioned by Uga are located south of Moscow, along the Black Sea coast and near the Caucasus Mountains. This region has historically been characterized by complex geopolitical situations, with close interactions and ongoing conflicts between its nations. Turkey connects Eurasia and has a delicate relationship with Russia; Azerbaijan and Georgia were former Soviet republics; and Chechnya is now an autonomous republic within the Russian Federation.
Just as many Latin Americans flock to the United States to make a living, large numbers of people from the Black Sea countries and the Caucasus region also travel to Russia seeking opportunities. Over time, this has led to the formation of substantial migrant communities in Moscow, making them targets of skinhead attacks. These individuals are known for their fierce and combative nature, and their vengeful spirit; they often organize themselves to confront the skinheads head-on. Numerous conflicts of varying scales have erupted between the two sides over the years, mostly resulting in casualties on both sides, making it difficult to determine a clear victor.
"What do you want with me?" Hu Yi shrugged. "I'm Chinese."
"The Chinese have been beaten by the skinheads too, haven't they? Now is the time for revenge! They outnumber us, but we outnumber them too!" Uga's eyes gleamed with fervent light. "Listen, Victory Day is almost here! Let the people of the world unite once more and give these henchmen of Hitler a good beating!"
Hu Yi watched him speak passionately and eloquently, then smiled and shook his head: "I'm not going."
Uga smirked slightly: "What? Are you afraid of the skinheads?"
"I'm not afraid, but I don't want to go."
Uga waved his hand sheepishly: "I knew it, the Chinese wouldn't dare fight the skinheads."
Li Baoqing quickly interjected, "Chinese people dare to fight, but we—love peace."
"Alright, say whatever you want." Uga paused slightly, then gave a mysterious smile. "But you have absolutely no need to be afraid, we won't be in any danger." He then pulled a small revolver from his pocket and handed it to Hu Yi: "Look, what's this?"
"A gun? Where did this come from?" Hu Yi was taken aback and carefully reached out to take it. The gun looked a lot like the police revolver commonly seen in Hong Kong police movies. The barrel was not long, it was heavy and felt very heavy in the hand, the metal parts felt cold to the touch, and it gave off a slightly pungent smell.
Uga watched Hu Yi's reaction with satisfaction: "Of course it's mine!"
Li Baoqing craned his neck, curiously examining it closely, and exclaimed, "Wow, is it the real thing?"
Hu Yi nodded slowly. He was a bit of a military enthusiast and had some knowledge of firearms, but unfortunately, he rarely had the opportunity to handle them. He could only recall touching his father's policeman friend's sidearm when he was a child, playing with his elders' hunting rifles, and firing a Type 56 semi-automatic rifle during junior high school military training. However, these few experiences were enough for him to be certain that what he was holding was a real gun.
This conclusion made him somewhat uneasy: "Why bring a gun to a fight?"
Uga lit a cigarette smugly: "Don't worry, it's just for self-defense."
"I suggest you be careful and don't do anything dangerous." Hu Yi handed the gun back to him and earnestly advised, "You are a student, and it will be very troublesome if something goes wrong. It's best not to get involved with them."
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