We entered Muse through South Kan, but unlike before, we didn't stay at a guesthouse. Instead, Mr. Wei hosted us at his countryside villa. His mistress met us with the same disinterest as always, preferring to remain indoors, away from us. Mr. Wei invited us to make ourselves at home and to feel free.
Soon after, he made a call, as if he were arranging to meet someone. I guessed it must be Kun Sang.
After a while, Mr. Wei said, "Qian Guang, I've arranged for Kun Sang to come by tonight. Whatever requirements you have, you can tell him directly. Kun Sang has been my partner for more than a decade; as long as the terms benefit him, he'll cooperate."
Qian Guang nodded in silent agreement, while Malan, visibly bored, suggested, "Let's go for a walk…"
I intended to decline, but Mr. Wei urged, "Brother Zhao Fei, take Miss Ma out for a bit. While there may not be much to see in Muse, it's better than sitting around here. We old folks don't mind, but I fear you young people might find it stifling."
Hearing this, I nodded. Indeed, the villa was dull, and I was just as eager to stretch my legs and see what Muse had to offer.
We took one of Mr. Wei's vehicles, an un-airconditioned van that jostled us over the dusty, bumpy roads. The stifling heat kept us from opening the windows as motorbikes, tractors, and pickups belched black smoke around us. Occasionally, we spotted a luxury car, almost always bearing a Yunnan license plate.
On either side of the road stretched flooded fields, where crops stood submerged in muddy water like remnants of some past disaster. Zhao Kui noted that the river had swollen due to recent rains; he and his team had encountered this same river during a previous mission in the area.
Apparently, Zhao Kui knew Muse better than I had realized.
Soon, we arrived at a temple, where we each donated two yuan, equivalent to twelve hundred Burmese kyats, to enter. Inside stood a long line of towering Buddha statues, each with a unique expression yet all with the same serene posture, stretching along the path for hundreds of meters. The statues, organized from tallest to shortest, created a solemn atmosphere. The temple was pristine, tranquil, and spacious, with many trees I had never seen before.
Malan knelt before the statues, praying with deep reverence. I wondered what could inspire such devotion in her—it seemed only these silent figures could.
"Buddha, bless me with fortune, let me find jade worth billions, make me rich…" I overheard her muttering her desires. Her unabashed greed amused me—Malan was a woman who did not hide her ambition for wealth.
After paying our respects, we visited a palace. From a distance, its pointed spires hinted at Burmese architectural influence, but upon closer inspection, it was quite small, barely a few dozen square meters. Most of its walls were glass, offering little privacy. Calling it a "palace" felt overstated; even an average hotel back home would overshadow it in grandeur. Yet, the grounds outside were impressively spacious.
We wandered around and encountered three Pakistani children, their dark skin and sharply defined features striking. Balancing wide platters laden with decorative bananas on their heads, they moved with remarkable poise, offering to pose for photos with tourists. Malan eagerly took a few pictures, paying six yuan, but I declined, finding the interaction trivial and meaningless.
Malan eyed us with exasperation. "Where's your compassion? These kids are sweating under the sun, carrying these heavy platters for photos. Can't you spare a little empathy?"
Her bluntness amused me, but I remained unmoved, following our driver as he led us to a nearby village. This village belonged to the Dainon tribe, known as the "Deathless." It was quaint and beautifully green, with little girls dressed in traditional attire lining the roadside. They wore empty baskets around their necks and greeted us with polite phrases like, "Welcome," "Thank you," and "Come again."
Seeing these girls, I couldn't help but make a donation. Malan, however, scorned me, saying, "Oh, I see. You only donate when they're girls, huh?"
Sighing, I replied, "Their parents force them to wear increasingly heavy steel rings around their necks as they grow older, rings they can never remove, even in death. I feel sorry for them…"
Malan dismissed my reasoning, scoffing, "Don't pretend. Men are all the same."
I simply laughed, ignoring her, as our driver took us toward the city center, where we intended to find a restaurant for lunch. He recommended the finest eatery in the "wealthy district," cautioning us about the prices.
When we arrived at this so-called affluent area, I was both amused and dismayed. The so-called "wealth" consisted mostly of crude, unplanned two-story concrete houses, with the tallest buildings barely reaching three stories. These homes, bare or minimally decorated, looked rustic, almost primitive, compared to any modest township back home.
We got out of the car, taking in the scene with mild amusement. The driver led us to a Chinese-owned restaurant. Though modest, it was clean and reminiscent of a countryside inn back home.
As we entered, I noticed a group of about ten people already inside, assuming at first that they were diners—until I recognized a familiar face.
"Liu Qiang…"
He was the last person I'd expected to encounter here. He glanced at me with a strange expression before breaking into a grin.
"Well, well, Zhao Fei! What a surprise! I was just about to look for you. I have something big to discuss. Fate must have led us to meet here, don't you think?" His laughter was exaggerated, dripping with false cheer.
I swallowed hard, noticing Xiao Mi, the woman at his side. Finger marks marred her face, while purple welts darkened her chest. She had clearly suffered a brutal beating.
"Xiao Mi, come over here," I said quietly.
Xiao Mi remained silent, lowering her head as if in shame. Liu Qiang, grinning, propped his foot on the table. "Watch your tone, Zhao Fei. Xiao Mi is my woman now. I'm practically family to you now, so call her 'sister-in-law.'"
Xiao Mi kept her gaze down, looking pained and fearful. "Xiao Mi, come here," I repeated.
Liu Qiang laughed cruelly. "You really don't know how to appreciate a good thing, do you, Zhao Fei? She's incredible! But you threw her away, let Qian Guang's lackey beat her. Some 'man' you are! Not like me—I cherish my women, especially gentle ones." He winked, pulling Xiao Mi close.
Everyone laughed, and I knew Xiao Mi had succeeded in her plan. Though I couldn't be sure how she'd gained Liu Qiang's trust, I knew the ordeal must have been agonizing.
Malan, furious, muttered, "That bastard! Zhao Fei, let's go—such a woman isn't worth it!"
Unaware of the truth, her indignation on my behalf was almost touching. She tried to pull me away, but Liu Qiang blocked our path.
"Don't go, Zhao Fei! Stay for a meal, on me. Have a drink with your 'ex,' say your goodbyes. Remember, she's your sister-in-law now, so move on. Otherwise…"
I cut him off. "Enough, Liu Qiang. Don't push me."
"Oh? Are you getting angry, tough guy?" Liu Qiang sneered, eyes mocking. His lackeys laughed along, eyeing me with amusement.
Malan, pointing at Liu Qiang, snapped, "Enough! What do you want?"
Liu Qiang smirked, pulling back his coat to reveal a gun. "Simple. You'll stay for this meal—whether you want to or not. This is Myanmar; I make the rules. Please, join me."
At his signal, his men closed in, surrounding us.
Malan glared at Liu Qiang. "Are you looking to die, messing with me like this?"
Ignoring her, Liu Qiang gave his men a nod, and they stepped forward, grabbing for me. But Zhao Kui, swift as an arrow, intercepted one of them, seizing his wrist and twisting it with a crack until it bent like a snapped branch. In an instant, Zhao Kui moved, closing the distance to Liu Qiang and pressing a dagger to his throat. His speed left Liu Qiang no time to react.
Liu Qiang, however, showed no fear. He clapped slowly, sneering. "Impressive. You hired yourself a bodyguard with real skill. But it won't matter. I said you wouldn't walk out of here, and I meant it." He grinned darkly. "We'll see who laughs last. Boys, let's eat. Afterward, we'll teach him a lesson."
With a laugh, Liu Qiang signaled his gang to pull back. They all laughed as they backed away, as though enjoying a private joke. I watched them go, my eyes trailing to Xiao Mi. I couldn't shake the worry gnawing at me—what she was enduring was beyond anything I'd imagined, and I feared for the toll it would take on her.
Zhao Kui caught my glance, his eyes asking if he should deal with Liu Qiang now. The thought of ending it here flashed through my mind, but killing Liu Qiang in Myanmar wouldn't end well. We wouldn't escape unnoticed; despite Myanmar's lenient law enforcement, this was still a foreign country, and Liu Qiang's men surrounded us.
I forced myself to speak. "Liu Qiang, let's see who has the last laugh."
Turning on my heel, I headed for the car, with Zhao Kui pushing past Liu Qiang's men to clear the way. As we left, Liu Qiang called after me, taunting, "I'll bed your woman and send you the tape! See how my skills compare to yours!"
The car pulled away, but my gaze lingered on Xiao Mi until we turned the corner. I reminded myself that everything she endured was for a purpose—one I had to believe was worth it.