My hometown is far away in Moscow.

036 Good Friend

The man with the stern expression said, "Listen carefully, only if you file a complaint can the police take them to court. Otherwise, there's nothing we can do. Those who beat you will be released soon and will continue to do whatever they want on the streets, understand?"

These words, spoken with an unmistakable bureaucratic tone, greatly displeased Hu Yi. He couldn't help but retort angrily, "You're utterly incompetent! Moscow has so many skinheads, many of my friends—Chinese, Vietnamese, Mongolians, Africans—have been beaten by them, and the police have done nothing! Before today, the police I encountered only checked passports of foreigners and even demanded money! Now you're actually sending me, a foreign student who's only learned Russian for a few days, to court to sue skinheads? Why are the Moscow police like this?! I'm ashamed of you! Your country has disappointed me greatly! I don't want to stay in this godforsaken place anymore; I want to go back to China! Whether the skinheads go to court or not is none of my business!"

Hu Yi managed to deliver this long speech, a mix of English and Russian, in one breath. Although it was completely disorganized, it clearly expressed his anger.

Fen Tou was taken aback by the Chinese man's deep resentment. He stared at him blankly for a while before sitting back down at the table. "I'm sorry to have you think this way. Our security situation is indeed problematic, but please believe that most police officers are responsible. You can certainly choose to leave Russia, but I sincerely hope you can stay here and see things improve." He then extended his right hand to Hu Yi. "My name is Sasha. I was supposed to be off today, but I was called here at the last minute. It took me a long time to get here; I apologize for keeping you waiting."

Hu Yi reluctantly shook hands with him lightly, tilting his head and remaining silent.

Sasha continued, "Actually, it wouldn't be a problem for you to go home right now. But the reason I came all this way is that I don't want the perpetrators to escape legal punishment. Just as you said, the skinheads running rampant on the streets is a disgrace to all Moscow police. In fact, we have been trying to catch these people, but it is difficult to catch them on the spot when they commit crimes, and even more so, very few victims are willing to sue them. This results in us lacking effective means to punish the perpetrators, which is why they are so rampant."

Hu Yi, who had just rattled off a string of random foreign words, had calmed down a bit. Now, hearing Sasha's sincere words, he softened his tone accordingly: "Why? Can't the police punish criminals? Can't they bring them to court?"

"This involves legal procedures, it's complicated," Sasha shrugged. "The fact is: if you don't file a complaint, the police can only detain them until tomorrow at most. They'll definitely be back on the streets after they leave. What if you run into them again? What if your friends run into them?"

Sasha's previous words had all sounded like rambling to Hu Yi, except for the last few sentences, which struck a chord with him. He pondered for a moment, then hesitated, "Okay, I understand. I agree to sue them. But I don't speak much Russian. What will I do in court? Will I need a translator?"

Sasha replied, "You don't need to appear in court in person. You just need to write a complaint and sign it—in English or Russian, it doesn't matter—and we'll handle everything else."

"Would that really work?"

"I can't give you any specific guarantees. But if you don't write it down, the effect will definitely be zero, absolutely zero."

Hu Yi nodded emphatically: "Then... how should the complaint be written?"

"I'll get you the template in a bit." Sasha jumped off the table and beckoned to Hu Yi: "First, identify the people we caught."

At the other end of the police station, the captured skinheads sat listlessly in their iron cages. The man with the small mustache, who had been guarding the area, approached Hu Yijin: "We arrested six people in the subway. According to their confessions, a total of ten people were involved in the attack on you, is that correct?"

"Ten?!" Hu Yi looked bewildered. "I don't know!"

The man with the mustache pointed to a rusty half-section of rebar on the table next to him: "That's the weapon they used to attack you, isn't it?"

The piece of rebar was over half a meter long and slightly thicker than the neck of a regular beer bottle; it was a common type of construction rebar used on construction sites. Hu Yi's facial muscles twitched. Thinking that this thing could easily break his bones in a few blows, he quickly shook his head and said, "I don't know."

The man with the small mustache shrugged and pointed at the six skinheads in the cage, saying, "Look, aren't these the guys who beat you up?" He then picked up his baton and banged it twice on the cage: "Raise your heads!"

Ordinary people often experience face blindness when recognizing other races, especially without hair as a distinguishing feature. Hu Yi stared at the bald men in the cage for a long time, vaguely feeling that he had seen these faces before, but he wasn't sure. Adhering to the principle of being truthful, he shook his head again: "I don't know, I don't remember what those people looked like."

Sasha and the bearded man exchanged a glance, then walked over to Hu Yi with their hands behind their backs and said, "Don't be afraid. They can't get out and can't do anything to you. Feel free to testify against them."

"I really don't remember, I can't just make something up." Hu Yi pointed to the rebar: "And this, I don't remember it either."

Little Beard pursed his lips helplessly. Sasha wanted to encourage him a few more times, but suddenly a strange, mocking laugh came from inside the iron cage.

Hu Yi turned his head and saw that the person laughing was the same bald man who had just given him the middle finger at the carriage door. Their eyes met, and the bald man slowly raised his middle finger again, glaring at him and cursing him word by word.

They're already in the cage, yet they're still so arrogant. Hu Yi was furious, but he was frustrated by the fact that he only knew a few Russian swear words. He could only lament that he regretted not studying hard enough when he needed to use them, and that his scolding was pointless.

But Hu Yi had a different kind of inside joke. He steadied himself, took a deep breath, glared at the other person, and unleashed a string of half-Chinese, half-Russian witty remarks he'd made up when joking with classmates: "You! You stupid bum-bum-bum-jevich! You idiot Ivanovich! You pig-mi coward! You damn idiot kawa!"

Sasha and the bearded man were both baffled. The bald man, who had initially been chuckling, was quickly enraged by Hu Yi's provocative expression and raised his voice to curse, "Hu Yi! Hu Yi Briaji!"

"Quiet!" The bearded man tapped the cage again with his baton.

This was the first time Hu Yi had heard someone insult him by his own name. He was filled with rage. He walked to the iron cage and stared at the other person for a moment, secretly blaming himself for being so stubborn: there were only a few bald men in the carriage at the time, surely the police wouldn't have arrested the wrong person?

Thinking of this, he felt relieved and turned to Sasha, saying, "That's right, this man did hit me, and those people next to him are his accomplices." He then pointed to the rebar on the table: "And this, that's their murder weapon."

Sasha breathed a sigh of relief and gently patted Hu Yi on the back: "Come on, write all of this down."

By the time Hu Yi finished writing his tearful English complaint, using his limited vocabulary, it was almost dark. Sasha and Little Mustache drove him to the subway station and asked with concern, "Can you take the subway home? Is that alright?"

"Of course, no problem." Hu Yi puffed out his chest. Being beaten up like this was already embarrassing enough, and he wanted to use this last chance to save face. He smiled and shook hands with the two men: "Thank you both, and thank you very much to your young colleague; he saved me."

"This is our job. We sincerely hope you will trust the Moscow police in the future, and be sure to call the police if you encounter any trouble." Sasha's expression was very serious as she handed Hu Yi a piece of paper with a phone number on it: "This is my office number. You can contact me if you need to speak English. Remember, we will do our best to provide protection for everyone."

"Thanks, but I hope I never need your help again." Hu Yi shrugged and smiled, casually stuffing the note into his pocket. Just as he turned to leave, he saw the man with the small mustache buy a cup of hot coffee from a nearby shop, bring it over, and hand it to him: "For you."

Hu Yi was stunned: "For me?"

The man with the mustache nodded and quickly mumbled a few words to Sasha. Sasha looked completely bewildered and translated them word for word: "This was given to you by the young policeman who helped you on the subway."

Hu Yi didn't like coffee, but he was still flattered by the situation and waved his hands repeatedly, saying, "No, no, thank you. He saved my life, I should be the one to bring him coffee."

"Don't be shy, please accept this," Sasha said with a smile. "He said you're his good friend."

Hu Yi felt his mind was in a mess: "What? Me? His good friend?"

"That's right. After he brought those skinheads back to the station, he went to the door of the room where you were sitting and recognized you. But he still had work to do, so he asked a colleague to buy you a hot coffee." Sasha relayed the mustache's words: "He said that a few months ago on Arbat Street, you and your friends treated him to beer."

"Beer? Albert?!" Hu Yi felt a chill run down his spine, staring blankly at Sasha, then turning to look at the little mustache. A surge of emotions welled up inside him, and he couldn't tell whether he wanted to cry or laugh.

Yes, Arbat Street is right next to the Lenin Library and very close to the metro station where I was rescued. It should be within the same police district, so it wouldn't be surprising to run into him again.

He desperately tried to recall the young policeman who had relentlessly pestered him for twenty rubles on Arbat Street, and he also tried to remember the tall figure who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere when he was lying bloodied in the subway car. He just couldn't connect the two together.

Hu Yi's throat bobbed, his hand holding the paper cup trembled slightly, and his eyes became a little moist. He couldn't understand why he was crying. The tears in his eyes were clearly not tears of gratitude, nor were they related to regret, grievance, fear, or any other emotions. It was just a strange release, as if something that had been blocked in his heart for a long time had suddenly burst forth.

"Where is he?" Hu Yi bit his lip tightly and swallowed hard, but a few tears still dripped uncontrollably from his eyes, creating a small ripple in the paper cup.

"After reporting, he went to perform his duties elsewhere." Sasha patted Hu Yi on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "He wished you peace and good health in the future, and we hope so too."