Chapter 558
St. Petersburg
Chapter 558 St. Petersburg
"Oh my, factory manager, you're really planning to go to St. Petersburg?! It's not safe, really not safe. Take more people with you."
When the head of the security department saw that Lin Xiaohe dared to venture into St. Petersburg with only four people, he broke out in a cold sweat.
Lin Xiaohe, carrying her suitcase, was determined to leave: "You guys stay here and protect the comrades in the sales department. The military's 5000 television sets haven't been fully delivered yet. You need to keep an eye on this and make sure the Japanese devils don't cause any trouble."
"By the way, Xiao Ye's shop in the Ant Market is the only authorized dealer of our Panshi TVs in the market. You guys should go and take a look around when you have time, show off your strength, so that some clueless people don't run into us and affect our sales."
"Well, if Xiao Ye's business takes off, give me a call, and we'll try to open up a new area in the Ant Market."
"Yesterday, County Chief Tian called to say that the delegation from our county's foreign trade company has boarded the K19 and should arrive in Moscow in about a week. The closer it gets to winter, the more active the Moscow mafia become. You should confirm the time with the delegation and go to the train station to pick them up."
"Once the delegation arrives, don't rush to sell anything. They have no experience and don't know how chaotic it is here. Just show them around the market, let them look, don't sell anything. If you come across a great opportunity, stay calm and contact me first."
After thinking for a moment and finding nothing she had overlooked, Lin Xiaohe went downstairs.
Putin and Andrei still need to deal with the Moscow government and handle some outstanding issues, so it's inconvenient for them to travel together.
Seeing that he couldn't persuade Lin Xiaohe, the head of the security team had no choice but to take his team and escort her to the train station.
You can travel from Moscow to St. Petersburg by plane, train, or bus.
The route is owned by the state-owned Pulkovo Airlines, and a round-trip economy class ticket for foreigners costs $170.
Lin Xiaohe doesn't fly, firstly because it's expensive, and secondly because she doesn't trust the safety of airplanes given Russia's nearly defunct industrial system.
Especially that big dark cloud in the sky, it's like a persistent ghost, following me closely. Who knows if it might tamper with the weather?
Lin Xiaohe didn't want to be eliminated at the crucial moment.
Therefore, Lin Xiaohe chose the legendary Red Arrow train.
The train departs from Moscow-Leningradsky Station at 11:55 PM and arrives in St. Petersburg at 7:55 AM the next day. It's a sleeper train journey with a private compartment featuring wooden wainscoting, and the price is quite reasonable. Breakfast is provided in the carriage.
Lin Xiaohe booked a first-class sleeper berth, a double room, with a capacity of 16 people per section.
As soon as we boarded the train, the handsome train attendant with deep-set features verified our identities and tickets and then asked each of us what breakfast we wanted: “Our breakfast includes hot drinks, main dishes and snacks, and will be delivered to our rooms at 7 a.m. tomorrow.”
The only hot drinks available in first class are black tea; rare items like instant coffee are only offered in premium sleeper berths.
For the main course, you can choose buttered bread or rolls, served with slices of cheese or sausage.
The meal is served with oatmeal porridge, jam, or condensed milk.
There were no snack options, only cookies, because the waffle manufacturer was going bankrupt.
Despite the train conductor's shocked gaze, Lin Xiaohe chose to have them all.
The passengers in the same carriage all looked at them with surprise. "You can do that?"
The train attendant stood there stunned for a full three minutes. After struggling internally for a while, he still chose to respect the passenger's wishes: "Okay, remember to tie the doorknob of the compartment with a belt tonight. If you don't have a belt, you can use a bed sheet."
"Thank you."
The security personnel took the train attendant's words to heart, not only securing the door handles with belts but also taking turns on night shifts to remain vigilant at all times.
The red train roared past birch forests and snowfields.
There were no uninvited guests that night; it was very peaceful.
At 7:00 a.m. sharp, there was a knock on the door of the private room; it was the train attendant bringing breakfast.
The cookies and bread were packaged in plain wax paper with rough production dates printed on them.
The security guards stared at the tiny round bread, no bigger than the palm of their hand, and fell into a deep silence.
They are simply too narrow-minded, forgetting that Russia is no longer the wealthy and powerful Soviet Union, but is facing a severe shortage of resources.
They looked at Lin Xiaohe's full plate with admiration and envy. As expected of Director Lin, she had foresight!
If they had known, they would have followed the factory manager's example and wanted them all.
Compared to filling one's stomach, how much is face worth?
At 7:55, the train arrived in St. Petersburg on time.
St. Petersburg, known as the Venice of the North, was once the capital of Tsarist Russia. It boasts exquisite architecture and a rich artistic atmosphere, with the Winter Palace and Summer Palace located there. But when Lin Xiaohe and her companions stepped off the train, they were greeted by dust-covered cast-iron awnings and numerous private taxi drivers holding signs.
"Tsk tsk, it's not much different from our provincial capital," Xiao Zhang muttered to himself.
After spending several months in Russia, Xiao Zhang no longer felt any romantic feelings towards his former big brother.
"Taxi!" the taxi drivers called out in broken English.
After hesitating for a second, Lin Xiaohe walked towards the bus stop next to the square.
A dirty tram was clanging into the station, its surface covered with colorful advertisements that completely obscured the original paint job.
The car was empty, and there were obvious vodka stains on the engine hood.
The tram moved slowly along Nevsky Prospekt, the street straight, the buildings on both sides like an old photograph with color correction.
Large sections of plaster have peeled off the exterior walls, revealing the red bricks underneath, and the paint around the windows is peeling.
The newly emerging neon signs, on the other hand, seemed out of place.
Lin Xiaohe carefully examined them and found that they were all foreign brands, with not a single one from East Asia.
When we got close to the building, the car got stuck in traffic.
Ahead was a row of rusty Ladas and Volgas, stuck in the potholed lanes, unable to move.
A middle-aged man in sportswear was arguing with a traffic policeman, his voice so loud that it could be heard throughout the street, and he was gesturing with his hands.
On the sidewalk next door, several elderly women had set up stalls, selling all sorts of things: old boots, enamel mugs, and a pile of metal parts whose purpose was unclear.
After passing the Winter Palace, Lin Xiaohe and the others got off the car by the river.
A few young people sat on the stone railings by the river, carrying beer bottles, with a broken tape recorder at their feet playing foreign songs they couldn't understand.
Across the river, the golden dome of the Peter and Paul Fortress loomed in the morning mist, like an old dream yet to awaken.
The hotel is on that quiet street in front.
The doorman, dressed in a faded uniform, helped him open the heavy wooden door.
The lobby smelled musty mixed with cheap air freshener. The receptionist, wearing bright lipstick, asked expressionlessly, "Passport. Rubles or dollars?"
"Dollar."
Xiao Zhang remained silent until he entered the room.
The young, retired female special forces soldier looked bewildered: "Factory manager, how come St. Petersburg is like this?"
What do you think it should be like?
"Red holy sites, bearing the ideals of revolution and the nostalgia of literature and art. The aristocratic parlor of St. Petersburg in Tolstoy's writing, Nevsky Prospekt in War and Peace, the sound of cannons in the October Revolution, and the cruiser Aurora."
It should be one of the world's revolutionary holy sites, not like it is now, lacking not only revolutionary will but also having its unique romance become Westernized.
Have you guys heard about the latest big news from Jinjiang?
Jinjiang's censorship standards are surprisingly high...
I'm so worried that if there's another internet cleanup, my book might get banned.
My family suggested that I write a book about food.
I:?
Family member: You don't even know how to choose fresh vegetables when you buy them. But if you want to write food articles, you will do your research and learn how to buy vegetables.
Me: ...What a clever little devil.