Cuban sat by the window, and the carriage was smelly.

A woman's armpit odor mixed with a carpenter's athlete's foot. A man's yawning smell of garlic, in the air, collides with another man's burping smell of leeks, cigarettes, inferior perfumes, vomit of motion sickness, and all kinds of smells mixed together and become a stinky smell.

The noisy passengers, smelly carriages, and even the air are suffocating, which shows how bad the peak season of the Spring Festival travel rush is every year.

Next to Cuban was a young man with long hair. The young man said, "The first time I took the train was on the roof, and the coal in a car was under his butt. Now, I was so crowded that I screamed. Let's change the position. Man, well, I want to make it easier."

Cuban reluctantly exchanged seats with him, and he opened the car window and urinated outside.

Perhaps it was the favor caused by a urination, Cuban raised the beer bottle to the young man with long hair and signaled him whether he wanted to have a drink.

The long-haired young man shook his head: "I can't drink now, although I have a lot of alcohol."

He turned his face out the window and stopped talking.

When we took the train, we all paid attention to the scenery outside the window, some haystacks, wheat fields, canals and woods.

When the train passed a village, the young man with long hair stretched out his head out of the car window, put his hands on his mouth, and shouted to a small courtyard: "Hong, red, red."

In that small courtyard, a woman named Hong would hear this familiar sound almost every few months. The sound was very far away, but it appeared in her ears. When she was washing clothes in the yard, coaxing her son to play, and even in her sleep, she could hear her husband's cry. She was in a daze for this, thinking it was an hallucination, and listened with her ears, but she only heard the train whistling by.

The train passed through a tunnel and woke up many bats. In this short darkness, Cuban tried his best to restrain himself and did not attack the young man with long hair. It was easier to steal his wallet than to drink a spoonful of soup. He held back, but his compassion was fleeting. Just as the train was about to pass through the tunnel, Cuban's hand subconsciously reached into the pocket of the long haired young man. The moment he took out his wallet, he was stunned - the wallet was Cuban's own.

This is probably the strangest thing that Cuban has encountered since theft: the long-haired young man may have stole his wallet while exchanging seats, and he stole it back by a scammer. The theft process was successful. He took advantage of the darkness and got it without anyone noticing, but theft result was - he stole a wallet, and the money on his body did not increase by a point.

"The things return to the original owner." Kuban showed his wallet to the young man with long hair and put it back in his pocket.

"So I'm a fellow traveler," the young man with a long hair smiled and began to say, "Did you see just now? A small yard, that's my home. I steal things, not because I'm short of money, but because it's fun, and it's also a habit. When I see other people's wallets, I can't help but feel itchy. How much I like to be a thief! My whole personality, the education and the environment of my growth are destined to be particularly suitable for this profession. I won't fool you, I'm very rich now, and I know what to make money faster and easier - do business."

The young man with long hair lowered his voice and said to Cuban: "I have a few condoms in my stomach. I can't eat, although I really want to drink with you. Think about it, tomorrow morning, when I arrive in Urumqi, I will pull out these things and make some money. Tell you this, not because I believe in you, not trust, nor because you are like me." He stretched out his finger to make a wallet, "I'm a little bit genius, damn, I don't care. Sometimes I think, I will go in again sooner or later, so I don't care. I keep such long hair to attract Lei Zi's attention, I don't care."

"I know, this is called drug transport," said Cuban. "Why don't you do your own business? Buy the goods yourself and sell them yourself."

"I can't do this alone. I don't have a partnership, and I don't have the capital."

"I have."

"Brother, what's your name?"

"Cuban."
Chapter completed!