Chapter 264: Hauling Meat by Truck

Zhou Dafu asked, “Master Li, why are there two different kinds of trucks?”

“This one here is a Yellow River truck. The others are Liberation trucks.

All you need to know is that Yellow River trucks are the biggest in our country. Their load capacity is eight tons, while the Liberation trucks can only carry four tons—half that amount,” Li Feng said proudly.

He added, “Also, the Yellow River truck’s cab doesn’t just have two seats. There’s a bed in the back, so you can lie down and rest if you get tired.

Liberation trucks only have a driver’s seat and a passenger seat—no bed.”

Whether in terms of model or load capacity, Liberation trucks couldn’t compare to the Yellow River brand.

But then again, that made sense. On paper, the specs of the Yellow River truck surpassed the Liberation model in nearly every aspect. Otherwise, what would be the point of designing it?

Zhou Dafu asked cautiously, “Master Li, can I take a look inside?”

It was the first time he’d seen a truck up this close. And now he even had the chance to touch it—he’d never have even dreamed of it before!

“Of course. Even if you didn’t ask, I would’ve had you get familiar with it later anyway,” Li Feng said.

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Then he waved Zhou Dafu over to the driver’s seat and said, “Go ahead and try turning the steering wheel.”

The Yellow River truck’s steering was noticeably heavier than the Liberation truck’s. Even Li Feng, who was well used to it, considered this one of its few downsides.

Still, since he drove the Yellow River truck, he got a slightly larger monthly grain ration. Liberation truck drivers received about forty jin a month, while Yellow River drivers got forty-five.

In this era, driving wasn’t just a skill—it was physical labor. No wonder the benefits were so good.

Zhou Dafu, full of excitement, climbed into the driver’s seat and carefully tried turning the wheel. But it wouldn’t budge an inch, and he could only laugh awkwardly at himself.

Li Feng understood—people always acted overly cautious the first time they got into a truck, like any force might break it. He chuckled and said, “The truck isn’t as fragile as you think. Put some muscle into it. Otherwise, you won’t even be able to turn the wheel.”

Encouraged, Zhou Dafu began applying more strength. He managed to turn the wheel, but it was clear he was struggling, nowhere near as fluid or fast as others.

Li Feng said, “You’re still not strong enough. You’ll need to train more. It just so happens I’ve got a delivery to make soon—why don’t you ride along and see how it’s done?”

With steering that slow, if Zhou Dafu ever ran into a sharp turn, there’d be only one outcome: a deadly crash.

Zhou Dafu felt a bit embarrassed. He was from the countryside, yet his strength didn’t measure up. He had also underestimated how hard it was to drive a truck.

If it weren’t for Sixteenth Uncle helping the village get enough to eat, he’d probably be even weaker—so much so that just turning the wheel would’ve been a struggle.

Li Feng said, “Alright, hop down. Let’s go load the goods.”

Reluctantly, Zhou Dafu shifted from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat.

Li Feng climbed in and took out a Z-shaped hand crank from the cab. That was the truck’s real “key.” Back in those days, vehicles started by hand crank.

After cranking the truck, he brought the “key” back inside, got behind the wheel, and drove straight to the factory gate.

The guard did a routine check and waved them through.

Once out of the factory grounds, they followed the road. There weren’t many people out—hardly any bicycles, let alone cars.

This was the capital after all, so the roads were well-built. With no traffic lights in sight, pedestrians would steer clear the moment they saw a truck coming, afraid of holding it up on a mission.

The whole way, Zhou Dafu closely observed Li Feng’s driving. Seeing how easily he turned the wheel made the difference in skill obvious.

They drove for nearly an hour before arriving at a slaughterhouse.

“Eldest Uncle, we’re from the steel factory. We’re here to pick up pork. Here’s the delivery slip,” said Li Feng.

He handed over the document.

Their factory was one of the top steel mills in the country and had a monthly pork allocation.

The gatekeeper took the slip, checked it carefully, then said, “Alright, looks good. Go on in.”

As he spoke, he opened the large gate to let them through.

Having been here before, Li Feng didn’t need any directions. He drove straight to the designated spot and parked to wait for loading.

Since there was no telling how long it would take, he turned off the engine.

He told Zhou Dafu, “Whenever you’re not sure how long the wait will be, kill the engine. Diesel is precious these days.”

“Got it. I’ll remember,” Zhou Dafu replied quickly.

Soon after, a staffer from the slaughterhouse came jogging over and said, “Thanks for the hard work, comrades. Here, have a cigarette while you wait. The workers are still busy—it’ll probably be another half hour before we can start loading.”

“No worries. We’re here to serve the people,” Li Feng said with a smile.

The man offering the cigarettes was wearing a white dress shirt and had a refined, scholarly air—clearly not an ordinary worker.

He didn’t just hand them single cigarettes either, but two whole packs of Da Qianmen. Between the packs, there were clearly some things tucked in—but you’d have to open them to know exactly what.

Li Feng was no stranger to this kind of gesture. Without hesitation, he accepted them.

Zhou Dafu, on the other hand, was shocked. “The slaughterhouse is trying to curry favor with the delivery guys?”

No way.

In times like these, anyone with access to meat or grain was basically a god.

The young man visibly relaxed after seeing Li Feng accept the gifts. Then he said, “There was a little issue with one of our trucks. Would you mind helping us deliver some goods to the Jingshan Subdistrict Office in Dongcheng?”

The saying goes: “Short hands after taking gifts, soft mouth after eating someone’s food.”

Everyone knew that nothing came free.

Li Feng thought it over. Dongcheng wasn’t really on the way—detouring there would take at least another half hour. But he had just glimpsed what was tucked inside the cigarette packs: two meat vouchers, each worth a full jin. Now that he’d taken the goods, how could he spit them out?

So he replied, “Since you’ve asked so sincerely, I won’t say no. We’re all here to serve the people.”

The young man breathed a final sigh of relief. Problem solved. He nodded and echoed, “Exactly—serving the people.”

(End of chapter)