Chapter 17: Meeting Old Dao? The Game Begins...

Hearing the name "Brother Dao," Li Junsheng's spirits lifted.
Was he being brought before Old Dao, wrapped in a burlap sack?
"Take the sack off him."
A low, lazy voice sounded, and suddenly a bright light flashed before Li Junsheng’s eyes as the sack covering his head was removed.
The first thing he saw was the man before him—a rugged, fierce-looking fellow about his own age.
"You’re Old Dao?"
"That’s right. What brings you here? And how did you find me?"
Old Dao sized up Li Junsheng, sensing he was unfamiliar and unaware of the black market’s rules.
He immediately felt something suspicious, something odd about him.
Li Junsheng didn’t take offense at Old Dao’s wariness.
He had heard about Old Dao in his previous life—cautious and vigilant, especially around strangers. That’s how Old Dao managed to survive in the black market for so long.
Li Junsheng smiled and posed a question in the argot of the black market.
"There’s some brick-moving work—are you interested? As for how I know the name of Old Dao the broker… you’re famous in the black market. Anyone who’s been here has heard of you, haven’t they?"
Old Dao narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp as he looked at Li Junsheng.
Clearly, he didn’t believe Li Junsheng’s explanation.
"Brick-moving" was black market slang for dealing in contraband.
Li Junsheng didn’t look like someone who frequented the black market, yet he spoke its secret language—this made Old Dao suspicious.
"So, how many times have you been here? And how did you know the black market operates in this area?"
"Me? I’ve heard about the black market for a long time, but this is my first visit. The hospitality here is unique as well."
As he said this, Li Junsheng glanced playfully at the person who had bagged him and brought him here.
He hinted to Old Dao that he’d known about the black market for some time, but had never entered it—now he was here because he had something to ask.
By saying this, he hoped to lower Old Dao’s guard and earn his trust.
Old Dao was wealthy, gripping the steering wheel of his truck, and began to appreciate Li Junsheng.
Alone, Li Junsheng dared to enter the black market, and even after being bagged, he stayed calm.
Facing Old Dao, he remained composed—not a simple man!

"What kind of bricks do you want to move? Where did you get them?"
"From the factory—you’ll know at a glance."
Li Junsheng took two pieces of electrolytic copper scrap from his pocket and showed them to Old Dao.
Old Dao glanced at them, his gaze instantly turning cold.
"So, it’s this yellow brick again. You’ve got guts. Do you know someone got into trouble recently doing this kind of work?"
Li Junsheng understood Old Dao was referring to the middleman who had previously collaborated with Supervisor Zhou.
That man had been caught, which was why Supervisor Zhou was stuck with so much scrap metal he couldn’t move.
Supervisor Zhou hadn’t told him about this, probably fearing Li Junsheng might report him, but since Li Junsheng had returned from his previous life, he’d seen Supervisor Zhou exposed, so even without being told, he knew the details.
Now that Old Dao brought it up, Li Junsheng certainly couldn’t say he knew all this from his previous life, nor did he want to get too entangled with Supervisor Zhou in front of Old Dao.
He shook his head firmly and denied it, "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just an ordinary worker at the machinery factory. Maybe you’re referring to our management."
"I can’t stay at the factory anymore. At my age, I just want to make a bit of money before leaving, nothing like the management."
Old Dao agreed with this. The management moved bricks for profit, not survival.
He looked at Li Junsheng, who wore a faded work uniform and whose hands were rough from years of labor.
His face wasn’t full or fair like someone living well, so Old Dao felt he wasn’t lying.
The man who had brought Li Junsheng leaned closer to Old Dao and whispered, "Brother Dao, do you think this guy is honest? Could he be trying to trick us?"
He asked because the black market was uneasy.
Many wanted Old Dao caught and sent to prison, especially after the middleman collaborating with Supervisor Zhou was arrested—betrayed by an informant, making Old Dao suspect a traitor in their midst.
Old Dao waved his hand, signaling his subordinate to say no more—he had his own judgment.
Li Junsheng didn’t look like a spy. Though he’d heard about the black market, this was his first time here.
He didn’t even know the rules, like wearing a mask and hiding one’s face.
If not forced by circumstances, Old Dao guessed Li Junsheng wouldn’t have come looking for him.
"Old Dao, can you move these bricks for me? Please give me a straightforward answer. If not, I’ll leave and not trouble you."
Li Junsheng pressed for an answer.
How could Old Dao let such meat slip from his grasp?

"I can move them, but goods like yours are risky—the price has to be lower."
Old Dao wanted to bargain. Li Junsheng didn’t rush to refuse; he asked, "So, how much can you offer per pound?"
"At most, two and a half."
Li Junsheng frowned—the black market price for copper scrap was three point two per pound.
Old Dao was offering seventy cents less, which Li Junsheng found unacceptable.
He took out a pack of cigarettes, offered them to Old Dao, and lit one himself.
After a couple of puffs, he said earnestly, "Brother Dao, let’s not take advantage of honest folks. I checked before coming—the black market price is three point two."
Old Dao was surprised—he hadn’t expected this man to be so hard to fool, so prepared.
"So, what price are you aiming for?"
"Three point two per pound."
Old Dao laughed in exasperation—the man before him refused to budge even a little.
"You must be desperate."
Old Dao's subordinate shook his head—Li Junsheng wouldn’t yield.
"Brother Dao, you know I’m taking a big risk doing this. If the price is too low, it’s not worth it. I came to you because I heard you’re reliable in the black market."
"Reliable" meant Old Dao was trustworthy in business.
Old Dao’s face remained neutral, but he knew Li Junsheng’s words made sense.
If not for the profit, who would take such risks?
Pressing him for price too hard would make him look heartless.
"How should I address you?"
"Just call me Old Li."
Old Dao nodded, as if making up his mind.
"Old Li, right? Since you trust me to be reliable, I’ll take the job—three per pound."
"Tonight at midnight, I’ll bring people to collect the goods. Be ready!"