negotiation
As evening approached, several off-road vehicles gathered along the riverbank in the town of Maca.
Everyone except Yuma, who was left where she was, arrived.
Miles was invited by Sigon to tour the town, with Chatchai accompanying him. As for Blaise, no one knew what Sigon had arranged for him to do, and he mysteriously disappeared again. Thus, only Steven and Nonai were left behind.
Nonai changed into a neat and comfortable top and pants, her long hair tied up, looking dashing and spirited. As soon as she got out of the car, Milo saw Hersey eagerly sticking up to her, helping her with the loading and unloading.
A makeshift table was set up by the river for playing cards. Steven, a perennial winner at the casino, won against every player who came, leaving the people from the Gan Valley with nothing but their underwear. It wasn't until Nonai joined the table that Steven changed his aggressive approach and openly fed her cards to please the beautiful woman.
With just one glance, Milo guessed that this evening would probably not be peaceful, but the conflict came sooner than he expected.
Nona won the game, but didn't seem particularly happy. She still opened a bottle of wine for him. As she handed him the wine, Steven pulled Nona into his arms, making her fall onto his lap. Nona, half-angry and half-laughing, lightly slapped Steven across the face.
This scene, when witnessed by Hersey, immediately burned through his eyes.
No sooner had Nonai left than Hersey stormed onto the gambling table, determined to play cards with Steven. He, of course, lost miserably. Steven, ever the sarcastic one, relentlessly mocked Hersey with sophisticated vocabulary, both overt and covert.
The consequence of mockery was a direct hit from Hessé's iron fist, and the card table was instantly scattered.
Hersey's actions were entirely unreasonable, but this was in the Gan Valley, surrounded by members of the Natawa family; there was no reason for them to side with outsiders. Since no one could intervene, even if Hersey beat Steven to death, it would be none of their business.
Seeing that Steven was struggling to fight back, Milo, who was sitting by the river watching the sunset, hesitated for a moment before getting up and walking over.
Milo picked up a thick wooden stick used for starting fires and used it to separate the two men a split second before Hersey's fist landed on Steven.
Hersey angrily grabbed one end of the stick and yelled, "Get out of here!"
Milo didn't back down: "Do you know who he is?"
Hersey wouldn't listen to a word: "Mind your own business! I'll spare you for Blaze's sake, otherwise, I'll snap your neck!" With that, he ripped the wooden stick from Milo's hand, his mountain-like body pressing down on him, as if he were about to tear Milo to pieces at any moment.
Milo didn't back down an inch: "Ariel Thornton, you should have heard of that name, right?"
Hersey abruptly stopped, his bloodshot eyes darting back and forth between Milo and Steven.
Milo pushed forward: "His cousin is Arien. Are you sure you still want to beat him to death?"
Hersey's face instantly turned bright red. After struggling for a while, he pointed at Steven's face, spat, and reluctantly turned and left.
Milo poked Steven with the stick: "Get up."
Steven, who had been punched, spat out a mouthful of saliva mixed with blood, and suddenly burst into laughter: "Milo, have you fucking lost your mind? You actually stood up for me?"
Milo handed one end of the fire poker to Steven. Steven hesitated for a moment, but finally used it to help him stand up.
As the sun set, the two sat together by the river, a great distance apart.
Steven glanced at his wounded face reflected in the river and suddenly said, "You seem to know quite a bit about me?"
"Your cousin's reputation speaks for itself; anyone who's read and watches the news knows that."
Steven pursed his lips. His dyed blond hair, no longer flamboyant, lay flat against his forehead, and combined with his wounded face, made him look less arrogant than usual. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, still the special custom black and gold style. A flash of light, and the tobacco burned.
"Are you fucking stupid or just pretending?" Steven took a drag of his cigarette, glancing sideways at Milo. "You actually dared to follow that mad dog into the rainforest? Aren't you afraid of getting blown up?"
"You heard that?" Milo didn't deny it.
Steven scoffed, "The shells are deafening; it would be a miracle if you couldn't hear them. You think Gangu, nominally part of the Tengbang Special Zone, is immune to border disputes? On a larger scale, the Tengbang government forces are locked in a life-or-death struggle with border rebels, and Gangu's unique geographical location makes neutrality impossible. On a closer look, those drug traffickers on the mountain behind Aplin are already pouncing on their prey. Even without the raw materials from the rainforest, Gangu's land alone is enough to make people envious. Blaze and his group have real weapons; his hands are stained with blood. Compared to him, we're practically law-abiding citizens."
Milo looked at Steven: "Lanman is not Tengbang, and Wudong Port is not Gangu, but you still dare to sell organs. Is this what you call a law-abiding citizen?"
Steven suddenly laughed: "It's a matter of mutual consent, that's business. Didn't I give them money? Weren't they doing it voluntarily? Rather than having those gamblers sell their wives and children for money, isn't harvesting their organs a fair trade?"
Milo silently looked away and said nothing more.
"You're so submissive to Miles, probably because he's completely under your thumb, and resisting him head-on is too risky for you. As for Blaise, you've been playing hard to get, sometimes close, sometimes distant, and from what I've seen, you've already got him under your thumb several times... I think, with that face, it won't be long before he unknowingly falls into your trap. Mr. Milo, you're really quite shrewd." Steven tapped his cigarette, glancing at Milo. "A word of advice: don't be too slow, and don't be too greedy. So, have you decided which one to win over?"
"Does it have to be one of them? Can't we win you over?" Milo looked calmly at Steven. "If we're talking about backers, is there anyone with a bigger backer than the Thornton family?"
Steven froze, caught off guard by these words, and could only manage a cold smile: "What did you say?"
“I didn’t say anything.” Milo said calmly. “Mr. Thornton, my brain was damaged by the beating, and I often talk nonsense. Please don’t mind me.”
Steven, however, was stirred by a subtle emotion and said coldly, "Winning you over? Tsk tsk tsk, don't make yourself sound so pitiful. I think you're plotting against me. Now that I think about it, I've realized something terrifying. It seems like I'm the one in control, but in reality, you were the one who came to me first in everything. Milo, what do I owe you that makes you so relentless?"
Milo remained silent.
Steven grabbed Milo's wrist, his expression unusually serious this time: "Then let me ask you another question. If you hate me, of course, based on our previous interactions, you should hate me... but why did you help me just now?"
Milo looked Steven in the eye without flinching: "If I said I just wanted to help you, for no reason, would you believe me?"
Steven's eyes flickered. He wasn't a womanizer like Blaise, nor a heartless old fogey like Miles; he knew how to manipulate, and he knew how to lie. There was no doubt that Milo was lying. But the way he made his lies appear so innocent and naive was strikingly convincing.
"Tell me, wouldn't it be terrifying if Theo Green had a twin brother living in anonymity?" Steven said slowly. "The way you looked just now was so much like him. For a moment, even I was startled."
Milo chuckled dryly: "Really? Mr. Thornton is too timid."
The roar of a car engine could be heard not far away; it must be Xigong and his men returning.
Milo got up to leave, but Steven suddenly called out to him, "Milo."
Milo turned around, puzzled.
Steven frowned, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and said quietly, "Actually, you didn't do anything wrong. Looking like him, or rather, having plastic surgery to look like him, is not your fault. As for what happened before, I owe you an apology."
Milo asked suspiciously, "Did you really get a concussion?"
Steven chuckled self-deprecatingly: "Who knows? Whatever, I'll be saying goodbye to all this mess soon anyway. It's not a bad thing to be able to tell you the truth."
Milo stopped in his tracks: "What do you mean?"
Steven pursed his lips and said, "It means, whoosh—in a few days, I'll be flying away and never coming back."
Milo's face paled slightly: "You really intend to flee the country?"
"Otherwise what? You think I'm just feinting and using retreat as a pretext, right? Miles is pressuring me both openly and secretly, Blaise, that mad dog, is chasing after me, yelling and threatening to kill me, and even my cousin, hahaha, is probably just waiting for our whole family to die sooner."
Milo remained silent.
Steven finished his cigarette, sighed, and said, "There will be a boat on the Jade Belt River tomorrow night. It's a backup plan I arranged, after all, I don't trust Natawa and his gang. If you still want to get out, it's not too late. I can take you with me. As for where you go after we get ashore, I don't care." Before Milo could speak, he added, "I have no reason to lie to you anymore, so this is the truth."
Milo stood frozen in place, while Steven had already gotten up and limped toward the crowd.
As evening approached, tents were pitched on the riverbank, smoke curled around, and barefoot children ran around Xigong, begging for candy.
Sigon fanned away the mosquitoes for them with a palm-leaf fan and answered their questions on a wide range of topics, from the primeval rainforest across the river to the towering buildings across the sea. These foreigners were the ones who fascinated the children the most.
A six- or seven-year-old boy with a missing front tooth blinked his big, round eyes at Milo, leaned closer, and compared the skin tones of their arms.
Next to his dark, thin arm was a slender, white wrist covered in bruises.
An undisguised sadness flashed in the boy's eyes.
Milo's brow twitched slightly, and after a long while, he said, "It doesn't hurt."
A large hand pressed down on the boy's head, shoving him so hard he almost lost his balance. When he saw who it was, the boy happily rushed over and hugged Blaise's leg tightly.
Milo smelled that incense scent again. As the fragrance intensified, he could feel Blaise getting closer and closer, his burning body almost touching his arm. Milo unconsciously held his breath, his shoulders tensed, and he instinctively picked up the water glass on the table.
A comfortable cool breeze blew by; it was Miles across from him slowly fanning him.
"Why are you sweating so much?" Miles' voice was calm.
Milo awkwardly touched his face: "Really?"
The little boy readily accepted the large skewer of roast meat that Blaze had taken from the table, grinning to reveal his missing tooth. He seemed to really like Milo, pointing to himself and saying, "My name is Appa."
Chachai, carrying a plate of raw meat to the table, urged the child to leave like a chicken, and said to Sigon, "This child is too naughty."
Xigong smiled and said, "It's alright, and don't be too strict with your little grandson." As he spoke, Xigong waved his palm-leaf fan, fanning the little bottoms one by one, and shooing the children away.
Seeing this, Chatchai began instructing those around him to step back, creating a completely quiet distance. Milo observed this and realized that Chatchai was the truly influential confidant of Sigon.
Xigong placed the roasted banana leaf-wrapped fish on a bamboo tray, the crispy edges of the leaves curling up to reveal the red chili seeds scattered on the snow-white fish flesh.
The first one, Sigon handed to Miles next to him.
Miles bowed slightly and accepted it with both hands.
Xigong spoke first: "I've heard about what happened at Wudong Port, and it's a pity. Actually, if Richard Green were still alive, he might be the longest-lived of the three of you."
Miles didn't follow up on the topic: "Mr. Natawa, I've shown you all the documents, and the compensation measures are all clearly stated. If you feel there's anything wrong, you can bring it up directly."
“You’re too impatient, that’s not good.” Xigong shook his head slightly. “This business was done between your fathers and me. Now that he’s dead, you younger generation are in a hurry to back out. Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”
"You need to understand, many places were interested in this business back then, not just Tate Daller and Bobby Thornton from Wanyang. I didn't think much of them at the time; Wanyang was too dangerous, and to open up sales channels, Richard Green's medical association was absolutely indispensable. It's just a pity that Richard was too inflexible, you could say he had his own principles. I valued fate and didn't force him; doing business with anyone is just a business, after all. But who would have thought that your two fathers would actually manage to break Richard's ironclad rule? Once the deal was signed, problems arose, and Richard became the innocent victim. So, with this precedent of betraying business partners, I should be more cautious than you are when discussing this business now. I'm not in a hurry, so why are you in such a rush?"
After saying this, Miles didn't speak again, and Steven just listened silently. For a moment, an awkward silence fell over the dinner table.
Xigong reached out, and someone brought over a double-layered box. The first layer was placed on the table, and when it was pulled open, a media player was inside.
“This is the black box that Tate Dale sent me years ago, the one from the Green family’s plane crash,” Sigon said in a deep voice. “I extracted a recording from it before the crash. You’ve met quite a few doubles in Wudong Port over the years. As for whether the Green family’s son is dead or not, this is the answer. Consider it a gift from me to you.”
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