The story is purely fictional; any resemblance to actual events or persons is coincidental.
I’m thinking of changing the name; otherwise, it will be like hanging a sheep's head while selling dog meat.
Last time, I mentioned going back to eat something first, then coming back at noon, and acting according to the situation.
Learning from the mistakes made during work hours, this time, my brother and I observed secretly. We kept our distance from the rebar, and to avoid alerting the workers, we didn’t show ourselves at all. We hid near the bushes in a small grove where there was no sunlight, so it wasn’t too hot. We peered out just enough to keep an eye on our position, treating the workers as imaginary enemies. Our mission was to seize the enemy's supplies without a single soldier being lost.
It was really boring; it wasn’t too hot at noon, but still warm enough that I didn’t sweat. After eating, my blood sugar rose, and I felt quite drowsy. My brother fell asleep first, and I took one last look at our position; the enemy was still busy. I also dozed off.
I felt a pain in my neck; it wasn’t from sleeping wrong but from being bitten by a big black ant. I swatted the painful spot, and when I rubbed it, the ant was caught in my hand, already dead, split in two. I woke up and checked the position of the sun relative to a branch, realizing not much time had passed.
I noticed there were no shadows on the position anymore. I pinched my brother's nose; without oxygen, he woke up immediately, gasping for air.
Long fist action, long fist action.
Is there no one?
Right, I can’t see a single person. Ready to set off, but still cautiously checking for anyone watching.
Good.
We pretended to search for lost keys, kicking innocent stones on the ground, brushing aside irrelevant grass, and peeking into the unaware storm drains.
My eyes quietly scanned every corner of the construction site, confirming that there was not a single person around. I was secretly pleased. But we still had to move deeper in, making sure there were no people in the bushes or woods.
I suggested checking if we lost the keys where we fought in the morning. We walked to the place we had been earlier, pretending to look for keys. No one, not a single person, and I even confirmed the nearby windows could see inside.
I gathered my courage and walked near the pile of rebar, picking up a piece about a meter long and as thick as my thumb, saying to my brother that this would make a good weapon. My voice was neither too loud nor too soft; this was my last test. If someone came out to stop me, I would let him go back. No one came. My brother picked up a similar piece and followed my lead. I took a few steps and climbed up a small dirt slope. The center of the depression on the slope was the entrance to the tunnel. I casually leaned against the slope, letting go of the rebar, which slid down. I started to feel nervous, wondering if it would make a sound when it hit the pipe. There might be insulation, and it only hit the handle of the faucet, which was probably as thick as my head, so it didn’t make much noise; it seemed the sound traveled more along the tunnel. My brother imitated me, and two pieces had already entered the tunnel. I went down to grab another one, repeating this process about ten times. I took six pieces; I wasn’t sure how many my brother threw. I was still on edge.
Each piece probably weighed around a kilogram.
We pretended to search for the keys again, slowly retreating from the battlefield.
We went to the entrance farthest to the east from this entrance, where we slowly crawled over to retrieve the rebar. On the way, we also checked if anyone was following us; it’s always a bit nerve-wracking when doing something bad.
On the third trip through the tunnel, we didn’t speak.
When we reached the entrance with the rebar, we realized there was too much to carry all at once, but we couldn’t leave it all at the entrance either. I initially planned to carry three pieces in each hand, but I found that was impossible; at most, I could manage two and had to drag them along because one hand would lose strength after a while. No endurance. I still had to hold the flashlight. In total, there were 11 pieces.
We made several trips back and forth to move all 11 pieces of rebar into the tunnel.
During the transfer, I initially thought I would take two pieces while my brother took four, and that would be enough. Later, inspired by the back-and-forth transfers, I realized that once we reached the surface, I wouldn’t need the flashlight anymore, so I could carry more. I estimated that taking six pieces wouldn’t be a problem.
The tunnel was about 100 meters long; it wasn’t hot inside, but there was no wind. After multiple trips, my brother and I were sweating profusely, our short sleeves soaked, and we were quite dirty.
All 11 pieces of rebar were moved from that entrance to the east wall entrance.
As mentioned earlier, the east wall entrance was quite remote; no one cared if we burned wood to roast sweet potatoes.
We found a half-destroyed wall; it was perfect. From there, we took turns tossing the rebar over the wall. At first, our technique was poor, and the rebar clanged together, but later it became silent.
We didn’t sell it at the nearby recycling place for fear of getting caught; we specifically walked far, about a kilometer away. We sold it for about 10 yuan. I bought a very refreshing cola and some bread.
Although it wasn’t the most glorious labor, the bread was delicious, and the cola was quite a throat-stimulator.
If you often stand by the river, how can you avoid getting your shoes wet? Next time, I’ll write about a mishap.