Chapter 41 First Meeting with the Undercover Police Officer
Middle section of Temple Street.
Three red tricycles lay on the ground, one with its basket smashed and another with its bell torn off.
Five or six children were surrounded by seven or eight members of the Dongsheng Society, who were pushing and shoving them.
Amin had a cut on his forehead, and blood was flowing down his cheek, but he still protected the two little ones behind him, his eyes wide open.
"Damn it, a bunch of beggars dare to challenge the Dong Sheng Society?" Yellow Hair kicked over the third car. "'Chefeng Express'? Chefeng my ass! Go back and tell that pretty boy that Portland Street will belong to Young Master Jiang sooner or later, and tell him to get lost!"
"You're talking nonsense!" Ah Ming roared. "Portland Street belongs to the Wo Yee Tong! Brother Che said we'll protect this place from now on!"
"A shield?" the blond-haired man laughed. "You junk collectors? I'll smash all your cars today and see what kind of shield you have!"
He raised the steel pipe and smashed it down on the last intact car...
"You dare to smash it and see what happens!"
The shouts came from the street corner.
The blond-haired man paused, then turned around.
Fang Che arrived with Cheng Tieniu and five brothers.
His left shoulder was wrapped in gauze, his face was pale from running, but his eyes were chillingly cold.
"Brother Che!" The children rushed over as if they had seen a savior.
Amin wiped his face: "Brother Che, they started it! We were carefully memorizing the route, but they wouldn't let us pass and even smashed our car!"
Fang Che patted his shoulder: "Got it, stand at the back."
He walked up to the blond-haired guy and sized up the young hoodlum who looked to be no more than twenty years old.
"From the Dongsheng Society?" Fang Che asked, his voice flat.
The blond-haired man felt uneasy under his gaze, but emboldened by his numbers, he puffed out his chest: "So what if I am? Fang Che, don't think that just because Li Hanzhou is protecting you, you can—"
He hadn't finished speaking.
Fang Che suddenly made a move, his right hand reaching out to snatch the steel pipe from the blond-haired man's hand!
No one saw how he did it.
Before he could react, the steel pipe was already in Fang Che's hand, the blond-haired man's wrist was bent at a strange angle, and a scream rang out.
"Ah—my hand!"
“It’s just a dislocation.” Fang Che handed the steel pipe to Cheng Tieniu, his tone still calm. “It’ll be fixed at the hospital. But…”
He glanced at the others and said, "They smashed my car and beat up my people. How do you plan to settle this?"
The henchmen looked at each other, then took a half step back.
They've heard of Fang Che!
He set fire to the funeral hall and then fought back at the dock; he was reckless.
But when you actually meet him, you realize he's even more terrifying than the rumors suggest.
“We’ll pay you back…” the henchman said, trembling.
"Compensation?" Fang Che laughed. "Fine. Three cars, five hundred for each repair. The children are injured, one thousand each for medicine and nutrition. Emotional distress... forget it, I'll give you a discount, five thousand in total, pay me now."
"Five thousand?!" the blond-haired man cried out, enduring the pain. "Are you robbing me?!"
"You're the ones who robbed us." Fang Che pointed to the car on the ground. "You smashed the car and assaulted people, caught red-handed. Should I call the police?"
As he spoke, he actually pulled the black pager out of his pocket and pretended to press the button.
The henchmen panicked.
Gang fights are most afraid of the police getting involved, especially those involving drugs like the Tung Sing Society.
"Don't call the police!" the seasoned henchman quickly said. "We'll pay! But right now... we don't have that much money."
"Write an IOU." Fang Che tore a piece of paper from the notebook and handed it over. "Sign and put your fingerprint on it. I need to see the money by this time tomorrow. If I don't see it..."
He leaned closer to the man and lowered his voice: "I'll go to Jiang Tianqi's club and stick the IOU on his door. Let's see if he can afford to lose face."
The henchman turned pale.
Young Master Jiang is very concerned about his reputation. If things really escalate to this point, they can forget about ever working in the industry again.
"I'll write!" He gritted his teeth and took the paper and pen.
The IOU was written, signed, and fingerprinted.
Fang Che examined it carefully, folded it, and put it in his pocket.
"Get lost."
The henchmen, supporting the blond-haired man, slunk away.
The children cheered.
"Brother Che is amazing!"
"Let's see if they dare to be arrogant again!"
Fang Che smiled and patted Amin's head: "Alright, hurry up and pack up. Tiezi, take them back to get the car repaired. Xirong, go buy some medicine to bandage Amin."
"Brother Che, what about you?"
Fang Che looked up and gazed across the street.
On the second floor of the tea restaurant, by the window, Lu Che sat with a coffee in his hand, quietly watching this side.
Their eyes met across the street.
Lu Che raised his glass, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Fang Che's heart sank.
He saw everything that just happened.
What exactly is this undercover police officer trying to do?
“I’m going to meet that ‘fellow villager’,” Fang Che said.
There weren't many people on the second floor of the tea restaurant.
When Fang Che went up, Lu Che had already ordered a drink for him... a glass of iced lemon tea.
"Brother Fang, please have a seat." Lu Che smiled. "That grappling move you just used was very skillful. Was it taught at the Liaocheng Sports School?"
Fang Che sat down opposite him without touching the lemon tea.
"Mr. Lu looked very carefully."
“Occupational hazard,” Lu Che shrugged. “I used to do business in the north and often dealt with all sorts of people, so I’m used to observing.”
"Really?" Fang Che stared at him. "Then what did Mr. Lu observe?"
Lu Che took a sip of coffee and said calmly, "I've observed that although Brother Fang is young, he's very good at leading people. Those kids respect you a lot; this isn't something that can be achieved just by feeding them."
“I’ve also noticed,” Fang Che said. “Mr. Lu is very interested in Portland Street. My people have seen you in several places these past few days.”
Lu Che smiled: "Brother Fang is very well-informed. I'm just checking out the surroundings. After all, if I want to follow Boss Li, I need to get familiar with the territory."
"Just looking?" Fang Che raised an eyebrow. "Not investigating?"
The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
The two stared at each other, neither looking away.
The hustle and bustle of Temple Street outside the window made the quiet corner on the second floor seem even more serene.
After a while, Lu Che spoke first: "Brother Fang doesn't seem to trust me much."
"Really?" Fang Che's expression remained unchanged. "I just don't understand why a businessman from Liaocheng would insist on joining the Heyi Hall. There are many triads in Hong Kong, the Dongsheng Society is richer, and the Number Gang is more prestigious."
“Because I agree with Boss Li’s rules.” Lu Che put down his coffee cup. “That’s rare in the underworld. And…”
He paused for a moment, then looked at Fang Che: "I think Heyitang has a bright future. Especially with someone like you."
That statement has a deeper meaning.
Fang Che became alert.
"Me? I'm just a garbage collector."
“Being able to turn the situation around from garbage collection takes skill.” Lu Che leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Brother Fang, I’ve heard about your ‘Chefeng Express’ and your plans to start a school. To be honest, I admire you. There aren’t many people willing to work for their subordinates these days.”
His gaze was so earnest that Fang Che almost believed him.
But Fang Che knew that this was a charade that the police had to put on.
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