Chapter 13: Hugging the Boss's Leg at Night
Fang Che, the "Master Fang" whose soul comes from Northeast China, was completely unaware that his statement, "I'm best at getting along with my sisters-in-law," was like throwing a bomb into the water, exacerbating the internal injuries of the future big boss.
He glanced at Li Hanzhou's taut jawline and thought he had figured out the truth: it must be the pain from his wound! His older brother is just putting on a brave face!
So Fang Che dragged his swollen foot, hopped on one foot to the cot, and said with the confident concern typical of Northeasterners, "Brother Li, is the wound hurting badly? Hey, don't try to tough it out! Did I rub the medicated wine on it properly? Should I get you some more?"
Let me tell you, back in Northeast China, we have some secret remedies for sprains and bruises. I'll have Tie Niu get some tiger bone wine... oh wait, Hong Kong probably won't allow that stuff... How about some strong Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor)? It disinfects, kills bacteria, and promotes blood circulation. One gulp, and all the pain will be gone!
Ah Gui and his brothers' eyelids twitched as they listened.
Treating a gunshot wound with Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor)? Is this guy from Northeast China trying to get Brother Li to leave sooner?
Li Hanzhou finally opened his eyes, his gaze cold and filled with anger, shooting straight at Fang Che.
Fang Che felt a chill run down his neck, but then he understood: "Ah, I get it! Brother Li, you think I'm too noisy, right? Fine, I'll shut up, you can get some rest!"
He made a zipper gesture and remained silent for a few seconds.
But this period of calm lasted less than a minute.
Fang Che's stomach rumbled again, the sound particularly clear in the silence.
He awkwardly clutched his stomach, staring longingly at the bowl of cold wonton noodles on the table.
Li Hanzhou's gaze also fell on the bowl of noodles, then swept over Fang Che's swollen ankle and slightly pale face, his brows furrowing even more.
He gestured with his chin toward Ah Gui.
Ah Gui understood, and although unwilling, he still picked up the noodles to heat them up.
"Thanks, Brother Gui!" Fang Che immediately smiled, then turned to Li Hanzhou and lowered his voice to express his loyalty, "Brother Li, Brother Gui is cold on the outside but warm on the inside, he's definitely a loyal subject! When Sister Ruoxue was here just now, he didn't say much, probably because he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and affecting your relationship! Don't worry, I understand!"
Ah Gui tripped and almost spilled the noodles on his own head.
He turned and glared at Fang Che, inwardly roaring: I just didn't want to interrupt! What do you mean, "affecting their relationship"? Brother Li and Miss Ruoxue didn't have anything going on! You're just making this up!
Li Hanzhou took a deep breath, realizing that the wound wasn't caused by a bullet, but by the anger this kid had caused.
Fang Che was completely unaware of the situation, believing that he had appeased his elder brother and strengthened unity, and was in a good mood.
While Ah Gui was making the noodles, he started thinking about the "Portland Street plan" again.
He sat cross-legged on the tattered sofa, took out a stubbed pencil and a crumpled piece of paper from who-knows-where, and started writing and drawing, muttering to himself:
“Portland Street…it’ll be prime real estate in the future…buying now is like picking up money…those Tung Sing Society guys are definitely only eyeing the visible shops…we need to play it safe…yes, start with those old buildings in the back alleys, the ownership is mixed, but they don’t know the Hong Kong government is going to demolish them next year…first find someone to contact the owners, pretending to be a junk collector? No, that’s too low-class…let Thirteen Sister’s girl go and get some information? That’s a bit underhanded, but all’s fair in love and war…”
He wrote with focused concentration and drew in a messy manner, unaware that Li Hanzhou's gaze occasionally fell on him and the paper, with an almost imperceptible scrutiny.
The noodles were ready, and Ah Gui brought them over in a bad mood.
Fang Che cheered and, not caring that it was hot, slurped it down with great relish.
After finishing his meal and wiping his mouth, he felt satisfied and his life had become bright again.
Seeing that Li Hanzhou was still resting with his eyes closed, he decided to fulfill his duty as a "brother"—to keep watch at night.
"Brother Li, you can sleep soundly! I'll keep watch tonight!" He patted his chest, trying to sound reliable. "I guarantee not even a mouse will get in!"
Li Hanzhou didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.
It's late at night.
Inside the stronghold, only the brothers' breathing and the noise from outside the window remained.
Fang Che initially looked around with wide eyes, but the day's thrills and exhaustion took hold, and his eyelids began to droop. His head bobbed up and down like a little mouse stealing lamp oil.
In the end, he couldn't overcome his physiological instincts, slumped onto the tattered sofa, and fell into a deep sleep, even snoring softly.
After an unknown amount of time, Li Hanzhou woke up from a light sleep due to the pain from his wound and his heightened alertness.
As soon as he moved, he noticed someone beside him.
In the dim light, he saw that Fang Che had moved from the sofa to his cot at some point, curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed, and was fast asleep.
The boy's delicate features relaxed in his dream, less noisy than when he was awake, and more obedient.
However, his sleeping posture was really not flattering; one leg was casually dangling over the edge of the bed, almost touching his injured right abdomen.
Li Hanzhou frowned, instinctively wanting to kick him away.
But when his gaze fell on his swollen ankle and his unguarded, sleeping face, his raised hand paused.
Just then, Fang Che smacked his lips and mumbled in his sleep:
"Brother Li... Portland Street... take it... our brothers... make a fortune... marry the most beautiful... sister-in-law..."
The word "zi" didn't come out; perhaps the aroma of barbecue in his dream was too strong. He rolled over, grabbed Li Hanzhou's leg, rubbed his face against it, and mumbled, "...pig's trotter...don't run away..."
Li Hanzhou: "..."
The veins on his forehead throbbed again.
He tried to pull his leg away, but Fang Che held on tightly, grumbling in dissatisfaction.
Li Hanzhou stared at the "human-shaped pendant" on his leg and remained silent for a minute.
Finally, he sighed resignedly and gave up on waking him up or kicking him away.
He closed his eyes again, but the low air pressure around him made Fang Che unconsciously shiver in his dream and hug him even tighter.
Moonlight streamed through the broken window, bathing the two of them—the cold, aloof boss lay stiffly on the bed, with a "pretty accessory" drooling over his leg hanging at his feet.
In the corner, Ah Gui, who was supposed to be on night watch, secretly opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of this scene. His lips twitched, and he quickly closed his eyes and pretended not to see anything.
Well, it seems we can't rely on that silly Northeastern guy to protect Brother Li's innocence.
The morning sunlight, carrying the damp, musty smell unique to Kowloon Walled City and the salty tang of the distant harbor, squeezed through the windows of the dilapidated tenement building and fell on Fang Che's face.
He was awakened by a strange touch.
My face felt wet and warm, like something was licking it.
Is the delicious roasted pig's trotter in my dream real?
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