Dragon Raja 5; Chapter 217: For Your Majesty (32)

Dragon Raja 5

At the same time, the SAM-6 anti-aircraft missile vehicles displayed on the lawn of the Kolominsk Manor slowly raised their heads. These historic weapons, dating back to the 1950s, were now considered antiques. Guests at the sale had assumed they were mere shells, like the fighter jets welded to iron scaffolds outside military museums, seemingly soaring through the sky. But those ancient missiles actually moved, like a hundred-eyed giant awakening, their eyes coldly fixed on the sky.

There were also those T-64 tanks that should have been retired long ago, with tarpaulins still covering the gun muzzles and gun barrels. A driver actually emerged from the turret, ripped off the tarpaulin, and revealed the HCBT anti-aircraft machine gun, which was maintained as if it had just left the factory.

A stirring march began, and the honor guard marched into the exhibition hall in measured steps. Originally standing at the entrance of the Kolominsk Manor to greet guests, they looked like mere decorations, but now, slung over their shoulders were legendary PPSh submachine guns from World War II. Their gazes were stern, and each rifle was loaded. This honor guard seemed to have traveled through time, carrying flaming red banners. They were unstoppable, like an iron torrent. Even the elite of the Russian branch were intimidated and involuntarily gave way. The honor guards seemed ready to fire their PPShs at any moment; they were no mere decorations.

The captain of the honor guard came in front of Lu Mingfei, stood at attention and saluted, then stepped aside with the flag. The person standing in front of Lu Mingfei turned into Lao Lin, the old guy who claimed to have brought boxes of Moutai liquor to Russia to do business.

“Mr. Lu is Mr. Bunin’s guest. He is under our protection at the Kalominsk Manor.” Mr. Lin glanced at the leader of the Russian branch. He could tell the man’s temperament at a glance.

After a brief stalemate, the leading commissioner was clearly unwilling to give up his prize. “Who are you? What qualifications do you have to represent Alexander Bunin? You said you were Mr. Bunin’s guest. Where is the invitation?”

Lao Lin’s face froze for a moment. Lu Mingfei keenly noticed the change in his expression and leaned close to Lao Lin’s ear, “Don’t worry about me. Go quickly. These people are not easy to deceive.”

The mysterious Bunin dinner actually involves dumplings, some with pork and sauerkraut filling, some with beef and carrot filling, and some with three fresh fillings. The dumplings are thinly pinched around the edges and served piping hot, dipped in Ninghua vinegar soaked with garlic cloves.

If you eat this meal sitting cross-legged on the kang, with a sizzling fire burning beside you and a few strings of red peppers hanging, it would be a perfect Northeastern meal. But the restaurant was completely different.

The vast circular dining room, with a ten-meter-high ceiling and golden crystal chandeliers cascading down, seated 20 guests at a massive round table, each furnished with silver cutlery and crystal utensils. Behind each person stood a slender Russian woman, wearing long blond hair, a navy blue dress, and a plain white apron, ready to serve. However, there wasn’t much to do during the dumplings; all they could do was pour wine and peel garlic.

Surprisingly, all the attendees were Lu Mingfei’s peers. They were elegant, modest, and impeccably dressed. The boys, in their crisp hunting suits, looked handsome and capable, while the girls, in their evening gowns and high heels, were radiant. They all seemed to know each other well, and after taking their seats, those sitting next to each other naturally struck up a conversation. Interestingly, behind the twenty dining chairs were twenty portraits of elderly men in Soviet military uniforms, their shoulder boards and badges commemorating their numerous contributions to the Republic. A closer look at the faces of the young men revealed a striking resemblance to the elderly in the portraits.

“We rarely get to eat dumplings throughout the year, so we usually just make do with Russian food. Making this huge table of dumplings took everyone from the housekeeper to the maid half the night.” Lao Lin poured Lu Mingfei a full glass of Maotai, “Brother, let’s have one.”

The strong liquor goes down the throat, it is mellow and fragrant, and even someone like Lu Mingfei who doesn’t know much about liquor can appreciate its taste.

“The iron-capped Moutai produced in 1985 would sell for more than 40,000 in your country. The ones we have in Moscow are all piled up in my basement.” Lao Lin picked up the bottle to show Lu Mingfei the back label, smacking his lips to savor the flavor of Moutai.

“So, Lao Lin, you are Alexander Bunin?” It was only at this time that Lu Mingfei finally had the opportunity to ask this question.

The answer was obvious. At the enormous round table, Lao Lin sat at the head of the table, and every young attendee nodded to him before taking their seats. Not to mention the casually written invitation. The only person who could have written an invitation attributed to Alexander Bunin was Alexander Bunin himself. After verifying the handwriting, the Russian branch angrily withdrew. Apparently, Alexander Bunin’s handwriting was traceable. Yet, Lu Mingfei couldn’t help but be intrigued by the fact that this man’s prestige in Moscow could have temporarily deterred the rebellious Russian branch.

But on the other hand, Russia’s military-industrial trade was very complicated. Even Zero said that although the Romanov family was powerful in the financial circle, they could not even touch the edge of the military industry. So how could an authentic Chinese become a leader in this industry?

“That’s right, but the name Lao Lin is also real. Many people call me Lao Lin.” Comrade Lao Lin smiled. “Mr. Lu, you must think I’m Chinese, right? But unfortunately, I’m a native Russian.”

“You are a Tatar!” Zero suddenly realized.

“That’s right, smart girl.” Old Lin, or Mr. Bunin, smiled.

Mention Russians, and most people immediately think of the blond, blue-eyed Eastern Slavs. But Russia is, in fact, a multiethnic nation. During Genghis Khan’s European expeditions, the Mongols, riding on pony horses, stormed all the way to the Danube River, incorporating Russia into the Golden Horde. For a long time, the region was ruled by the yellow-skinned, brown-eyed Mongols known as Tatars. Tatar blood has persisted throughout Russia, and many successive tsars and Soviet generals have Tatar ancestry, some even bearing distinct Mongolian features. Even Lenin had a high percentage of Tatar ancestry; his grandmother was a Kalmyk Mongol, and Lenin’s family drank milk tea.

Bunin is a Tatar surname, and Alexander Bunin is a Russian Tatar with too pure blood. If he had some experience in China, he would be completely indistinguishable from a Chinese.

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