Wang Gui drove us back to the neighborhood, and upon arrival, the two of us remained in the car as I took Xiao Mi upstairs. Once inside, she sat on the sofa, looking remarkably spirited. She swept her hair back and tied it into a bun, looking quite lovely. If only she could stay like this forever.
I glanced at the medicine on the table and said, "If you feel the urge, just take a shot…"
"I don't want to. Really, I feel like I've quit. The very thought makes me nauseous," she hurriedly replied.
I listened with a sense of helplessness. It was impossible for her to quit so quickly—she only wanted to reassure me. "Liu Qiang is cunning and ruthless," I said. "This won't be resolved with a single night with him. You'll need to cooperate with us on many things. There's a stone we want him to buy—worth one hundred million dollars. You have to make sure he buys it."
"He doesn't have that much money…" Xiao Mi replied.
"That's where your skills come in. Whisper in his ear, make him believe in the immense value of that stone and our desire to protect it. Convince him that he'll make a fortune overnight—ten billion dollars. Whether it's worth it or not, make him believe it's his path to wealth, even if it means spending everything he has."
Xiao Mi lowered her head, subdued, but nodded. She looked at me and whispered, "Thank you…"
I gazed at her, feeling an unexpected wave of disdain. "Don't say thank you. I won't fall in love with you. I'm helping you because I don't want you to die."
The more I helped Xiao Mi, the more I felt a softness creeping into my heart—a vulnerability I knew would only entangle me further. And I knew the more entwined we became, the greater the chance Qian Guang would see her as a threat. I had to harden myself, to deny her any hope of attachment.
Xiao Mi nodded, saying, "I just want a good night's sleep. You can go now…"
I left her room without hesitation, stepping away cleanly. Back in the car, we headed to the bar. Just then, my phone rang—it was Xuan Ling.
"Hey, Zhao Fei, the police came looking for me…" she said, her tone anxious.
A little on edge, I asked, "What happened?"
"It's about the car. Zeng Hong wants to sue me. She says I caused the crash and that I should pay her damages, but she doesn't want your money…" Xuan Ling's tone was steady, though I could sense a slight quiver, a thread of suppressed tears. If she had any other option, I knew she wouldn't have called me. She had to be truly desperate.
"Don't worry, silly girl," I reassured her. "If there's a lawsuit, we'll face it. Losing it only means paying a different way. I'll make sure you're covered, okay? I'm here."
"I miss you… I wish you could be here," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But I know you're busy. I just wanted to hear your voice."
Unable to hold back any longer, she wept. "I'll be there soon," I said gently. "Anything special you want me to bring you?"
"No, just stay safe and do what you need to. I feel better just hearing you. Love you…" She hung up.
I sat there, looking at my phone. This quiet, sweet life—something I've always yearned for, and yet, it's so fleeting.
Later, I called Zeng Hong. When she finally answered, neither of us spoke, as if locked in a silent tug-of-war. Eventually, I broke the silence.
"Zeng Hong, I've lost. Tell me, what will it take for you to leave me in peace?"
"Come back to me," she replied resolutely.
"The dog you threw out—do you really think you can bring him back and things will be the same? You think I'd be the same to you as I once was? Impossible," I answered.
"I'll make it right…" Zeng Hong insisted.
Women are truly mysterious. She once humiliated me in every possible way, but now, she seems to want me back at any cost. Impossible.
I hung up after saying, "When I return, I'll burn down your house. I'll burn everything." Just empty threats, but if she keeps pushing, I just might. I have nothing left to fear.
I didn't seek out Ma Lan that night; I just wanted some quiet. Tomorrow, we leave for Myanmar. Big things lie ahead.
In the bar's spacious basement, with several beds and a boxing ring in the center, Zhao Kui was furiously pummeling a sandbag, his body glistening with sweat, looking powerful.
I got up, joining him to throw a few punches at the sandbag. I thought it would be easy, but the hardness of it surprised me—it hurt more than expected.
"Want to spar?" Zhao Kui asked.
At 1.9 meters, he was much bigger than my 1.8, but I wasn't intimidated. I threw a punch, which he effortlessly deflected, his fist stopping just in front of my face before pulling back.
"Brother Fei," Zhao Kui said, "you don't need to train. With me around, all you need is your mind."
I chuckled wryly, though he was right. Still, I continued hitting the sandbag, each punch releasing a torrent of pent-up frustration. My hands ached, my body grew tired, but a strange satisfaction washed over me as sweat dripped from my hair.
Finally, exhausted, I slumped to the floor, catching my breath. I choked up as I reflected on everything that had happened. I had changed—darkly, frighteningly, and I knew I would only keep changing, perhaps to a point where I wouldn't recognize myself.
"Brother Fei, I feel there's still a softness in you, especially toward women…" Zhao Kui said as he sat beside me.
I forced a smile. "Is that a good thing?"
"Maybe not, but it's rare and precious. Soldiers like us never lose the heart that loves deeply. When we were sent to combat drug trafficking, facing smugglers, we knew they were often driven to it by survival. Even if they fought us, they had loved ones just like us. Yet we had to shoot if they resisted—to kill them before their families' eyes. It was brutal, but necessary."
I managed a smile and replied, "But if you didn't kill them, it could be you who died, and countless others might be harmed…"
"Exactly. So we preserve that tenderness only for those we cherish. For others, we show only a hardened shell."
Zhao Kui's words struck a chord. He, this soldier, held wisdom that was simple but true. I could only hope to hold on to that balance.
That night, I slept deeply. The next morning, the humid heat pulled me from my dreams. Glancing at my phone, I saw that Brother Guang had called, telling me to get ready to depart.
After packing up, I contacted Ma Lan, asking her to join us. Despite the danger, I wanted her there; her presence could keep Liu Qiang cautious, should things go awry.
At Jie Gao, we handed our documents to Boss Wei, who arranged tourist visas through a travel agency—allowing us twenty-eight days but with restricted movement.
Ma Lan sat in the lobby, wearing sunglasses and a Southeast Asian-style dress, chewing gum. Compared to us, she looked like a movie star, yet little did she know that the place we were headed was somewhere she'd never want to see.
By noon, Boss Wei returned, handing us our documents. Looking at Ma Lan, he said, "Miss Ma, I'm afraid you'll be cursing me. Conditions over there are harsh."
Feigning offense, she replied, "Who are you underestimating? I grew up tough. I can handle it."
Boss Wei nodded without further comment. He led us across Jie Gao's border into Myanmar, where two vans awaited us. Qian Guang, Boss Wei, Ma Lan, and I shared one, while the others took the second.
Ma Lan waved her phone like a fan. "How much money did you bring this time? I've got thirty million lined up."
Boss Wei chuckled. "Miss Ma, you have a bold spirit. I've prepared about the same."
Casually, she said, "Boss Wei, interested in investing in my business? We could co-own a shop on Jewelry Avenue and franchise under a big brand."
Boss Wei shook his head. "Shops on Jewelry Avenue are priced in the billions. People aren't buying gems there—they're buying luxury. All those storefronts are run by corporations; we'd be out of our league."
Unfazed, she retorted, "If others can do it, why can't we?"
"Those companies sell only the finest gemstones. Even their cheapest pieces are jadeite; they wouldn't touch anything lesser. All their materials come from public auctions, where tickets alone cost fifty thousand euros. Could you handle that?"
Ma Lan grew quiet, biting her lip as she looked out the window. As for me, I could only yearn for such a place. The Myanmar public auctions aren't for ordinary people—the moment anyone shows interest in a stone, its price could rise to millions, even tens of millions. In that world, you're not buying jade; you're burning through money.
Yet, despite the odds, I still want to go. To every gambler in love with jade,