The reason is simple: Xu Zhuohua is his bottom line.
"Spit it out!"
Cheng Muyun abandoned his usual polite attitude towards Zhou Minhai, his face now filled with undisguised annoyance.
Zhou Minhai was a shrewd person and naturally realized Xu Zhuohua's importance to Cheng Muyun.
He even insisted on dancing on the grave.
"Young Marshal's wife, won't you greet me? I work with the Xu family and Young Marshal Cheng."
Xu Zhuohua hid behind Cheng Muyun and turned her head away.
She disliked people like Zhou Minhai who had a kind face but a smile that hid a knife, especially his voice, which was sticky and unpleasant to hear.
Cheng Muyun's towering figure completely enveloped Xu Zhuohua behind him, his leather boots crunching as they rolled over the icy snow.
He gripped Xu Zhuohua's wrist tightly with his left hand and pulled her into his arms, while his right hand was already on the edge of the holster. The voice that rolled out from his throat sounded like it was scraping across a poisoned blade: "Stay away from my wife, or I won't hesitate to send you on your way. You know I'm capable of doing that."
Zhou Minhai's fingers, which were holding the sandalwood beads, suddenly froze. His originally gentle smile turned into a frozen wax figure, and his slender eyes narrowed into two cold glints.
He swallowed twice, finally breaking the silence: "I came to Xinhai City for the young marshal, but unfortunately he was uncooperative. I was turned away countless times. Today I finally met him. Young marshal, come with me."
On this eve of the Lunar New Year, Zhou Minhai wanted to come and take the person directly.
Cheng Muyun drew his gun, the dark muzzle pointing directly at Zhou Minhai's forehead.
“It would be unlucky for blood to splatter on the streets during the Lunar New Year, but I’m more afraid of offending my wife’s eyes than breaking the rules.”
Cheng Muyun's eyes flashed with ruthlessness as he continued, "I don't care whether your Military Intelligence Bureau needs evidence to arrest people. In my case, everything has to go through my procedures. If you're going to be stubborn, I'll fight you to the end."
The crisp click of the metal firing pin rang out as Cheng Muyun cocked his gun. He stared into Zhou Minhai's eyes and said, word by word, "Let's have a contest: is your gun faster, or mine?"
Zhou Minhai's Adam's apple bobbed violently, producing a dry, rattling sound in his throat.
The sandalwood bracelet that had been turning so calmly just moments before had already slipped off. He stared at the dark muzzle of the gun, fine beads of cold sweat trickling down his temples and instantly freezing into ice beads in the cold air.
Although there are quite a few people emerging in New Sea City, each occupying their own territory, plus countless foreigners and people from all walks of life.
But Cheng Muyun was special. He was an absolute novice, but also an absolute veteran. Under his leadership, the Dongzhou Army grew more than two or three times stronger, and the discipline was strict. There was never a case of soldiers oppressing the people.
Therefore, a warlord who still enjoys popular support is the most difficult to deal with.
Moreover, the Dongzhou army has always been law-abiding and has not shown any ambition to carve out its own territory, but Cheng Muyun has the resources to do so.
In addition, he had a keen sense of smell and took over the most valuable Dongxing South Line while Dongzhou was still under his control. His cooperation with the Xu family became unbreakable because of their marriage alliance.
Since arriving in Xinhai City, Zhou Minhai has conducted an investigation but has failed to find any evidence against Cheng Muyun. He even admires this young marshal to the extreme.
He knew Cheng Muyun could fire the gun and that he would be arrested by the Military Intelligence Bureau, but it would be too wasteful for him to die like that.
Zhou Minhai forced a smile. "Young Marshal, you're joking. We're all the President's men, we should work together, not be at odds with each other."
He backed down, and Cheng Muyun naturally followed suit.
Cheng Muyun put away his gun, put his arm around Xu Zhuohua's shoulder and turned around. Then, remembering something, he turned to look at Zhou Minhai sitting in the car.
He said neither humbly nor arrogantly, "In this kind of government that changes like a revolving lantern, with local forces taking turns to rise and fall, national interests are in the hands of individuals. Director Zhou should see this more clearly than I do, knowing who is worth risking their life for and who is not."
Zhou Minhai is now forty years old and has served under more than a dozen presidents, with his superiors changing one after another. The fact that he can sit firmly in his current position shows that he is an extremely good person at judging the situation. There is no reason why he would not understand the implication in Cheng Muyun's words.
However, in times of chaos, everyone is not in control of their own destiny.
"Young Marshal Cheng is joking. I have always worked for myself and have never been loyal to anyone."
Cheng Muyun smiled and turned to leave.
Zhou Minhai's words were clear: he was an individualist, and as long as Cheng Muyun could offer something sufficiently tempting, he wouldn't mind seeking another employer.
That makes things much easier.
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