My hometown is far away in Moscow.

016 Entering the city

On Sunday morning, Hu Yi, Li Baoqing, Yu Feifei, and other newly arrived preparatory students gathered downstairs in the dormitory building and followed Yan Zhiwen and Lu Tao toward the subway station like students going on an autumn outing. Hu Yi's new hairstyle naturally became the focus of everyone's conversation.

"Look at you guys, so unsophisticated. This hairstyle costs three hundred rubles." Hu Yi looked up at the sky and joked, "Has any of you ever had a haircut this expensive?"

Yan Zhiwen slapped the back of his head and burst into laughter: "You idiot, don't go to Russian barbershops again. They're ridiculously expensive and terribly ugly."

Hu Yi carefully adjusted the few streaks on his forehead and asked, puzzled, "So, where do you usually get your hair cut?"

Lu Tao, who had not yet commented on Hu Yi's hairstyle, replied, "I usually get my hair cut at the market. You don't need to go that far. You can get your hair cut in any of the surrounding Chinese, Vietnamese, or Korean buildings, as long as there are Asian people living there. It will only cost a maximum of 100 rubles, and the skills are quite good, which is more in line with our aesthetic preferences."

"Only one hundred rubles?" Hu Yi felt a pang of pain at his extravagant spending yesterday, forcing a sheepish smile. "My hairstyle is actually not bad, you just aren't used to it yet. After all, it takes quite a bit of work to cut your hair like this, you get what you pay for."

"Yes! Yes!" Everyone laughed. "Getting such an expensive haircut means you're a nobleman! Noblemen's hairstyles are naturally different!"

They walked and chatted, and soon arrived at the subway station. The preparatory students occasionally took the subway these days, but they usually only stayed in the nearby stations and rarely went to the city center.

Unlike the newly expanded stations on the outskirts of the city, most of the metro stations within the Moscow Ring Line were built in the decades before and after World War II. They not only served their own transportation functions but also largely showcased the strength and power of the Soviet Republic. The hub stations, in particular, are breathtakingly grand and opulent, resembling sprawling underground palaces.

Compared to the magnificent stations, Moscow's metro cars are mostly quite old. Although they run very fast, the noise is unbearable; once they start moving, you have to shout to talk face-to-face. When people first arrive in Moscow, they often remark on how Russians like to read on the metro, only to later realize that chatting in a moving carriage is definitely strenuous, and reading is much more comfortable.

Once inside the loop line, the crowds at each station gradually thickened. The complex subway passages were like a maze; if Yan Zhiwen and Lu Tao hadn't been leading the way, Hu Yi and the others would have been completely lost long ago.

When changing trains, they noticed a dozen or so young soldiers in military uniforms with belts around their waists lined up neatly in two rows on the platform. They were quite conspicuous, and each of them carried a small green military satchel. After the train came to a stop, they split into pairs and followed the passengers to board the various carriages.

Peng Song blinked twice: "Huh? Is the Russian army that poor? Soldiers all take the subway together? And why do they board separately?"

Yan Zhiwen turned his head and glanced around, replying casually, "Well, a bomb was found on the Green Line train a few days ago, so we've increased our anti-terrorism efforts recently. Haven't you noticed the police often patrolling the subway stations? These soldiers are probably temporarily transferred here to board the trains for inspections."

"A bomb?!" Peng Song's expression changed, and the people around him hurriedly looked around. "In the subway car?"

Yan Zhiwen seemed to enjoy seeing the freshmen's exaggerated reactions, casually replying as if nothing had happened, "Yes, thankfully it was discovered in time and didn't explode. But it's said that radioactive material was detected, and the entire Green Line was shut down for several hours because of it."

The doors closed, the train lurched, and slowly started moving again. Hu Yi anxiously watched the two soldiers slowly patrolling the carriage: "Have they gotten some information? Could someone have planted a bomb on this train?"

"No, if there were concrete information, they would definitely stop and evacuate the passengers. These people are probably just conducting a routine check, mainly to deter terrorists." Yan Zhiwen smiled mysteriously: "Do you know what's in the small bags they're carrying?"

"I don't know." Several people shook their heads in unison.

Yan Zhiwen crossed his arms and slightly raised his chin: "Have you guys ever played Counter-Strike?"

"We've played it." Several boys nodded in unison. At that time, the computer game Counter-Strike had just begun to sweep the globe. Hu Yi had some knowledge of it back in China, and after arriving here, he often saw Russians shouting and fighting each other in the school's internet cafe. He had also tried it a few times himself and was quite familiar with the game.

The noise inside the car gradually increased, and Yan Zhiwen shouted at the top of his lungs, "What they're carrying in their backpacks are the bomb disposal pliers that the police use in Counter-Strike."

The freshmen exchanged glances, all involuntarily tense. Li Baoqing was especially frightened, breaking out in a sweat and licking his lips tremblingly: "My god, this is too close! What if it really exploded? Wouldn't we all be dead? I think it's best to avoid taking the subway in the future."

Lu Tao casually remarked from the side, "No need to be so nervous. These extreme situations don't happen frequently. As long as you're careful when taking the subway, there shouldn't be any problems."

"Watch out?!" Peng Song's expression twisted as he clung tightly to a nearby railing. "This thing could explode at any moment, how can we be careful?"

Yan Zhiwen beckoned them closer: "The characteristics of terrorists are very obvious: they mainly come from the Caucasus region, mostly middle-aged and elderly women, dressed in black, wearing black headscarves, with vacant eyes and blank expressions. You can tell at a glance that they don't want to live anymore. Russians call them Black Widows. Most of them live in mountainous areas, and all the men in their families died in the Chechen wars. They can hardly survive on their own, so they simply come to Moscow with the idea of ​​taking everyone down with them for revenge. If you see these kinds of people in the future, try to stay away from them!"

As the group tried to visualize Black Widow's appearance, they nervously glanced around the carriage. Hu Yi asked doubtfully, "Brother Yan, have you encountered her before?"

"People dressed like this are common, but I've never encountered one carrying a bomb. Otherwise, would you still be seeing me?" Yan Zhiwen laughed and squeezed towards the door. "We're almost at the station. Get ready to get off."

Being a group of young people, the tension from the oppressive, gloomy subway station instantly vanished as they stepped onto the sunny street. Attracted by the magnificent classical architecture and statues around them, they all raised their cameras and snapped away.

Unlike the snow-covered suburbs near Maj, the city center is bustling with traffic and activity. The snow is piled up on the roadside, and the sidewalks are not even very muddy, just wet and a bit slippery.

This is Moscow's main tourist area, where the streets are crowded with pedestrians of all skin colors. Everywhere you can see patrolling police officers in pairs, each one burly and capable-looking, with a police AK-74 assault rifle slung over their shoulder, giving tourists a strong sense of security.

Yan Zhiwen and Lu Tao led them along the Moscow River, visiting the Kremlin with a large group of tourists. They took some photos in front of the Red Square Cathedral and Lenin's Mausoleum, briefly strolled around the nearby State Department Store, and then made their way to Arbat Street.

Hu Yi and his friends had been staying near the school since enrollment, and only today did they feel like they had truly arrived in Moscow. Excitedly, they looked around, their enthusiasm exceptionally high, stopping to take pictures of anything unusual they saw. Yan Zhiwen, not much older than these new students, also had a childlike spirit, leading everyone on a wild ride, having a wonderful time.

Lu Tao, on the other hand, appeared much more composed. He wasn't very interested in shopping. Apart from stopping briefly at a gun shop, he spent the rest of the time leading the way, occasionally stopping to count the number of people and gather the group together, afraid that someone might get lost.

Arbat Street, a pedestrianized street in the heart of Moscow, is neither particularly long nor wide, yet it is a world-renowned tourist attraction. It's a street where tradition and modernity coexist harmoniously, and commerce and art blend perfectly, attracting tourists year-round. The street is lined with shops, restaurants, and bars, and numerous makeshift stalls in the middle sell various artworks and souvenirs.

As soon as they entered the street, Yu Feifei and several other girls were drawn to the exquisite Russian ethnic jewelry on the street-side shops, crowding around to browse through them. Peng Song, on the other hand, stood by a newsstand, holding a beautifully printed full-color magazine, staring blankly at the scantily clad young Russian women featured in it.

Hu Yi hadn't eaten breakfast and was starving. Seeing something new on the street, he couldn't resist buying it to try. He'd just finished a pie when he saw someone selling Turkish kebabs ahead. Turning back, he called to Li Baoqing, "Let's go try that!"

"I'm not hungry." Li Baoqing had been walking around for most of the day and felt a bit tired. He followed behind Hu Yi listlessly. "Sigh, everyone says Moscow is so beautiful and awesome, but I think it's just so-so. Look at Red Square, it's much smaller than Tiananmen Square, and even the bricks on the ground are uneven."

"Indeed, it's too small-scale, not spectacular at all, and not much to see. But the surrounding statues and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier are quite nice," Hu Yi said, taking the Turkish kebab.

"This Arbat Street is really shabby, how is it big?" Li Baoqing spread his arms and gestured, "It's not even as wide as Jiefang Road in front of my neighborhood. It's just street vendors from beginning to end, and you can't see anything new or interesting. It's just matryoshka dolls and cheap jewelry. It's really boring."

Hu Yi pointed into the distance: "Let's go take a look ahead. Brother Yan said Pushkin's birthplace is over there."

"Pushkin? Boring. Our middle school Chinese teacher said he was a hothead, a brash fool who insisted on dueling someone over a woman, and ended up getting shot dead."

Hu Yi laughed and didn't reply. The two strolled forward a few steps and came face to face with two policemen, one tall and one short.

"Passports." The young, short policeman held out his hand to them, his voice icy.

After arriving in Moscow, the two were checked for passports every few days. They were already familiar with the police's procedures, so they took out their passports and student IDs and handed them over.

The two policemen quickly glanced at the documents and returned them to them. Just as Hu Yi was about to leave, the shorter policeman held out his hand again, staring at him expressionlessly and saying, "Please wait a moment."