Chapter 101 The Ice Breaks
After bandaging the wound, Li Hanzhou put away his medical kit.
“Seven,” he called him for the first time, “thank you.”
Qi was taken aback.
This is the first time someone has thanked him for "protecting" him.
For Jiang Kun, protection is a duty, something dogs are supposed to do. Doing it well brings no praise, doing it badly brings punishment.
Li Hanzhou's "thank you" was as light as a feather, yet it landed heavily on his heart.
In the afternoon, the encrypted satellite phone rang.
Li Hanzhou answered the phone; it was Zhou Wenxuan.
The signal was intermittent, but every word was like a heavy hammer blow: "Hong Kong...the situation is deteriorating...Cheng Tieniu has been falsely accused of drug possession...detained...Agui has been stabbed...not out of danger...Xi Rong's team has gone missing...Jiang Tianqi and Li Ruoxue have joined forces...to sweep Portland Street..."
Li Hanzhou gripped the phone tightly with his fingers.
"Inspector Zhou," his voice was chillingly deep, "how is Ah Gui?"
Still in the ICU… The doctor says there’s a good chance he’ll pull through.” Zhou Wenxuan gasped for breath. “I’m trying to smooth things over with Tie Niu, but Jiang Tianqi has pulled some strings, so he won’t be out anytime soon. Xi Rong and the team… I’m still looking for my people.”
Where is Lu Che?
“Inspector Lu…” Zhou Wenxuan paused for a few seconds, “He’s in Thailand. But he has other missions and can’t help at the moment.”
Li Hanzhou closed his eyes.
After hanging up the phone, he stood in the living room for a long time.
When Qi came downstairs, he saw his stiff back.
"Something happened?" Qi asked.
Li Hanzhou turned around, his eyes frighteningly red.
“Jiang Tianqi swept through my territory in Hong Kong.” He said each word carefully. “A Gui was seriously injured, Tie Niu was imprisoned, and Xi Rong disappeared.”
Qi's eyes sharpened.
"Jiang Kun's son?"
“Yes.” Li Hanzhou’s voice was as cold as ice. “My father was hunting us down in Thailand, and my son was cutting off our escape route in Hong Kong.”
After a moment of silence, Qi suddenly said, "Jiang Kun didn't go to Myanmar."
Li Hanzhou suddenly looked at him: "What did you say?"
“That bald guy from yesterday,” Qi said, “had a mark on his wrist cast, the badge of a private clinic in Bangkok. That’s Jiang Kun’s business.”
Li Hanzhou's pupils constricted sharply: "He's in Thailand?"
“He should be in or near Bangkok,” Qi analyzed. “If he really fled to Myanmar, he wouldn’t have sent people so quickly. Those assassins are second-rate; Jiang Kun’s real experts should be kept by his side.”
Li Hanzhou stared at him, then suddenly laughed, a laugh filled with murderous intent.
“Great,” he said, “It saves me the trouble of going to Myanmar.”
The next day, Fang Che's fever subsided.
My back still hurts, but I can get out of bed and walk around now.
He moved to the stairwell by holding onto the wall and saw Li Hanzhou and Qi in the courtyard.
Li Hanzhou was teaching Qi how to use a gun.
It was an old-fashioned pistol, left behind by Zhou Wenxuan, with only twenty bullets.
"Grip position," Li Hanzhou demonstrated. "Keep your wrist steady and your arm slightly bent. Breathe softly when aiming, and pull the trigger decisively."
Seven, study diligently.
He took the gun and adjusted his posture.
His talent as an assassin allowed him to quickly grasp the essentials; his grip on the gun was steady, his eyes were sharp, and his posture was textbook perfect.
"Why are you teaching me?" Qi suddenly asked.
Li Hanzhou looked at him: "You lack modern combat tactics. You can't protect him with just a knife."
The seven fingers tightened.
"Try firing a shot." Li Hanzhou pointed to the mark on the tree trunk thirty meters away.
Seven, raise the gun, aim, pull the trigger—
"Bang!"
The bullet hit the edge of the mark, but missed by two inches.
"The recoil is greater than I expected," Qi frowned.
"Practice more," Li Hanzhou said. "Twenty bullets, you have one morning."
He nodded seven times and continued practicing.
Fang Che leaned against the door frame, looking at the two men in the yard.
Sunlight filtered through the coconut leaves, illuminating Li Hanzhou's cold profile and Qi's focused expression.
Gunshots echoed through the jungle, startling birds into flight.
He suddenly felt that this scene was somewhat harmonious.
At lunchtime, an unexpected event occurred.
Old Chen showed up in his beat-up pickup truck, looking very grim.
When he got off the bus, he was carrying a plastic bag containing fast food and a letter.
"Someone asked me to pass this on." Old Chen handed the letter to Seven. "This morning, a child gave it to me. He said it was for 'Seventh Master'."
Qi received the letter.
The envelope was made of ordinary kraft paper and was unsigned.
He opened it, and inside there was only one line of printed text:
"Bring Fang Che back, dead or alive, and let bygones be bygones for past betrayals. You remain Mr. Jiang's seventh. — Jiang Kun"
Both Li Hanzhou and Fang Che saw the words.
The air condensed.
Qi tore the letter to shreds with a blank expression and threw it into the trash can.
“He wants to turn you against him,” Li Hanzhou said.
"Hmm." Qi picked up his rice bowl and continued eating. "The premise of turning someone to defect is that I have really betrayed them."
Fang Che was taken aback: "Seventh Brother, you didn't betray us?"
Qi glanced at him: "From the moment I took the knife for you, in Jiang Kun's eyes, I was a traitor. This letter is not to persuade you to surrender, but to test... to test which side I'm really on."
Old Chen lowered his voice: "I followed the kid who delivered the message. He went to a massage parlor in town. A car was waiting at the back door of the massage parlor and headed to downtown Bangkok."
“Jiang Kun is in Bangkok,” Li Hanzhou confirmed.
Qi put down his bowl: "Let's play along."
"What's the meaning?"
“I’ll pretend to agree and go see him,” Qi said. “You guys lie in ambush outside, and I’ll lure Jiang Kun out so we can take him down in one fell swoop.”
“Too dangerous,” Li Hanzhou immediately objected. “Jiang Kun won’t show himself easily; he’s more likely to set a trap.”
“So we need a plan.” Qi looked at Li Hanzhou. “Do you trust me?”
Li Hanzhou remained silent.
He looked into Qi's eyes, those once empty eyes, now filled with warmth and determination.
After a long while, he nodded.
"letter."
In the afternoon, Fang Che insisted on cooking.
"My back feels much better!" He leaned against the counter and rummaged through the refrigerator for ground meat and flour. "We're making dumplings today! It's a Northeastern tradition—we eat dumplings whether we're celebrating or not!"
Li Hanzhou tried to stop him, but Fang Che glared at him and said, "Brother Li, if you make me lie down again, I'll really be crippled!"
Qi stood at the kitchen door, watching Fang Che clumsily knead the dough, roll out the wrappers, and fill them.
He moved slowly, and his back would occasionally ache so much that he would wince, but he had a smile on his face and was humming a tune.
Li Hanzhou helped chop the filling.
As Qi watched the two work together seamlessly, a subtle emotion welled up inside her again.
He turned to leave.
"Seventh Brother!" Fang Che called out to him, "Don't go! Come and help!"
After a few pauses, Qi went into the kitchen.
"I... don't know how to make dumplings."
"I'll teach you!" Fang Che handed him a piece of dough that had been rolled out. "Here, put in the filling, fold it in half, and pinch the edges. It's simple!"
Qi took the dumpling wrapper, her movements as stiff as if she were defusing a bomb.
He imitated Fang Che's actions, putting in the filling, folding it in half, and pinching the edges...
As a result, the dumpling skin broke due to excessive force, and the meat filling squeezed out.
"Pfft..." Fang Che laughed out loud, "Seventh Brother, are you making dumplings or squeezing a hand grenade?"
Seven's ears turned red.
Li Hanzhou smiled and took the broken dumpling from his hand: "Take your time."
The three of them sat around the kitchen counter, one teaching and the other learning.
Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the iron window, and flour dust swirled in the air.
By the tenth dumpling, Qi had finally made a decent one. Although the shape was crooked, at least it didn't break.
"You've made rapid progress, Seventh Brother!" Fang Che gave a thumbs up.
Qi smiled and picked up another piece of leather.
As he was wrapping the package, Fang Che suddenly spoke:
"You two."
Li Hanzhou and Qi both looked up at the same time.
Fang Che held a dumpling in his hand, looking at them, his tone casual as if he were talking about the weather:
"Stop whining like an old woman! Brother Li, Brother Qi saved my life, so he's my brother! Brother Qi, Brother Li is my man, he's the one for me in this life. It's that simple!"
He paused, his voice becoming even harsher:
"Go fight outside, and come back for dinner! We're making dumplings today!"
Silence fell over the kitchen.
Li Hanzhou was stunned.
Qi was also stunned.
A few seconds later, Li Hanzhou was the first to react, lowered his head and chuckled, the laughter growing louder and louder.
Qi looked at him and smiled, then looked at Fang Che, who was staring at her with a "Am I wrong?" expression.
Qi also smiled.
It's subtle, but real.
"Okay," Qi said.
"What's so good about it!" Fang Che handed him the kitchen knife. "Help me chop the cabbage! Brother Li will chop the filling, you chop the vegetables, and I'll peel the cabbage. Let's divide the work!"
Qi took the kitchen knife.
Then, a hilarious scene unfolded in the kitchen: the assassin held the kitchen knife like he was holding a dagger.
He stared at the cabbage, his gaze sharp as if he were looking at an enemy.
"Seventh Brother," Fang Che suppressed a laugh, "that's not how you hold a kitchen knife... are you going to chop cabbage or interrogate it?"
7. Adjust your posture and clumsily cut down—
"hiss!"
The blade grazed my finger, leaving a bloody gash.
"Damn it!" Fang Che quickly grabbed his finger. "Did you cut yourself? Does it hurt?"
Qi looked at the faint bloodstain on her finger, then at Fang Che's tense expression, and shook her head.
"It doesn't hurt."
"It doesn't hurt yet!" Fang Che pulled him to the tap to rinse it, then carefully applied a band-aid. "Seventh Brother, these hands of yours are for killing people with knives, not for chopping vegetables. From now on, you should rest in the kitchen, this is a sensitive place!"
Li Hanzhou watched from the side, a smile never fading from his lips.
The ice broke.
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