money player

Aung Kyi is the head of intelligence for the Shan State and northern Myanmar border region of the Military Intelligence Bureau. He is mainly responsible for monitoring and infiltrating the remnants of the Li Mi regime, as well as cracking down on the Burmese Communist Party's financial resources.

In 1951, the Burmese Communist Party had extremely limited financial resources, which mainly came from several sources:
One is international support.

Our kind neighbor supported light weapons and revolutionary funds through various channels.

The second category includes urban fundraising, robbery, and confiscation.

Secret party members raised funds through trade unions and student organizations in cities such as Yangon and Mandalay to support armed struggle in rural areas.

Guerrillas attacked government granaries and bank armored trucks, robbing cash and supplies.

In the liberated areas, the assets of landlords and rich peasants were confiscated, with part used for military expenses and part distributed to the peasants.

Thirdly, the most important source of funding is internal fundraising.

Revolutionary taxes were levied on farmers in rural areas under control (such as the Bago mountain region and northern Shan State), with a tax rate of approximately 10-20%, depending on the local economic situation.

The guerrillas forcibly requisitioned grain in the guerrilla areas, using part of it for military supplies and distributing the rest to poor farmers in order to gain their support.

The guerrillas also forcibly levied taxes or seized land from opium growers, intervened in the special goods trade, controlled some border passages, and charged tolls to smuggling caravans. They collected whatever was being sold, including opium.

In general, the Communist Party of Burma relies on external aid for its weapons, on confiscation and taxation for its food, and on special goods trade for its funds.

For the sake of his work convenience, Ongki has a public position in the police force: deputy captain of the narcotics squad under the Criminal Investigation Bureau, with the rank of assistant superintendent.

His entry into Hong Kong was not under the pretext of cracking down on the Burmese Communist Party, but under the pretext of international joint anti-drug operations. In this way, he could reduce the sensitivity of the incident and ensure the absolute legitimacy of the operation.

Angki's back was pressed against the corner wall of the corridor and stairs. Bullets fired by the Burmese Communist Party would occasionally pierce the sharp corner of the wall, and the splashing lime particles affected his vision and made it difficult for him to move. He could only take advantage of the gaps in the enemy's shooting to stick out the gun and fire a few shots in the general direction, and then retreat and wait for the next gap.

Bullet casings were scattered around his feet, along with several empty magazines.

Madan Sui, a female agent of the Military Intelligence Bureau, squatted next to Angki, occasionally peeking out half of her head and revealing one eye to observe the situation on the other side. Her movements were very quick, and each exposure lasted no more than 0.2 seconds. Despite this, she still got a cut near her eye.

Beside the two, there was another agent, Jue Ying, who was sitting on the steps, treating his right index finger, whose proximal interphalangeal joint had been badly damaged. He bit the pistol slide with his teeth, decisively cut off the upper part of his index finger with a dagger, ejected a bullet from the magazine, pried the bullet and cartridge case together with the dagger, bit the bullet with his teeth and pulled it out, exposing the gunpowder in the cartridge case to the air.

He clenched his teeth around the bullet, poured gunpowder onto the cut surface of his finger, struck a match, and lit it over the gunpowder. With a hiss, the smells of gunpowder and meat filled the air almost simultaneously.

Crack! A corner of his upper front tooth broke off, and beads of sweat the size of soybeans appeared on his forehead, dripping onto the floor.

The excruciating pain was as long and continuous as a summer day, stimulating his senses into a state of ecstasy. Everything in the world became clear. He heard the female cockroach scolding the male cockroach for bringing back a shirt that wasn't made of a brand name and didn't have the fresh taste of Good Luck Lai.

He was incredibly unlucky to have encountered such a low-probability event, but it seemed that the other person wasn't much luckier either. Ma Dan Sui once again fired randomly following the sound, and a cry of pain came from the other side. A moment later, a string of curses came, "You bastards, you hit my Bin Zhou, I'll fight you to the death! Come out, get out here!"

The noise was so loud that not only the people inside the building could hear it, but also the onlookers who had been woken up and came out to watch the commotion. Instantly, small groups of people began to discuss the matter, mixed with various mocking laughs.

Why aren't the bystanders afraid of a gunfight?
This brings us to the fact that Little Griffith did do something. About twenty minutes earlier, he had someone shout a message to the two sides fighting inside the building: they could only finish their fight inside the building and could not let it affect the surrounding area, otherwise they would be killed without mercy.

Just now, a clever person climbed out of the window, trying to use the advertising sign on the wall to get around to the other side, but was shot and killed by a sniper from the building across the street. His body is still hanging on the advertising sign for display.

The curses reached Little Griffith's ears. He chuckled and said to the person next to him, "Call Cen and tell her that Chen Jingkun is here. If you want to get him out, hurry up, or it will be too late."

“Yes, sir.”

A few minutes later, at the Xian family's house.

Cen Peipei, lying on the edge of the bed, put down the receiver, her face not looking too good. She picked up the intercom and called Wang Xiamin, "Amin, go to Miaojie to find Zheng Yueying. Her husband is trapped. You need to hurry to Beihe Street. I will also be there. We will meet downstairs at Hechengxing Baimi Building."

"it is good."

Temple Street.

English dining room.

A greyhound was lying on the floor, and Scarface Qiang, Zheng Yueying's bodyguard and top enforcer, was cleaning it up.

"Damn it, you dare steal our goods? You're asking for it!" Scarface Qiang roared, kicking the dog's stomach repeatedly with the tip of his leather shoe. "Tell me, who ordered you to do this? If you don't tell me, I'll kill you."

The thin dog's back was bent like a dead shrimp, and he was busy groaning and begging for mercy, "Boss, give me a chance, I won't dare to do it again, I won't dare to do it again."

“I’ll give you a chance, I’ll give you a chance.” Scarface’s anger flared even more at Greyhound’s pleas for mercy. He picked up a stool from the side and smashed it on Greyhound’s head several times. Greyhound curled up into a ball from the blows. Only then did Scarface stop and say, “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me who ordered you. If you don’t want to talk, then don’t. Be careful in your next life.”

In a booth on the side, Zheng Yueying and another confidante, Ah Fen, who was in charge of the accounts, sat facing each other. On the table between them were piles of Hong Kong dollars in large denominations. Ah Fen was working on an abacus, while Zheng Yueying frowned—the day to hand over the accounts to "Litchi Garden" was approaching again, and this time the amount to be handed over was more than before, and she was reluctant to do so.

A little devil inside her, driven by greed, was tempting her: "The British do nothing, yet they want to take 30% of the profits. Why should they?"

“Every penny was earned by our brothers through hard work, why should it go to the British?”

"Anyway, I'll mainly be doing business overseas from now on. The processing plant can be set up on a deserted island or a ship. Just be careful not to let the British know how much we've produced, and continue to pay according to the previous figures..."

Thinking of this, the image of Xian Yaowen's gentle and refined smiling face flashed into her mind. Recalling his previous warnings, she felt a little timid. "The British are easy to fool, but you are not. If you turn against me, what will you do to me?"

At this moment, on Temple Street, two young men were running towards the English restaurant. They were Ah Hao and Ah Ming, from Tai Ho. They had only been in Hong Kong for a short time and worked as errand runners, porters, and small-scale smugglers for the Teochew gang at the docks in order to make a living. Occasionally, they would also participate in the Teochew gang's fights. Usually, there would be no fights, and they would just need to gather a number of people to earn a hard-earned fee.

People like them are scoundrels who survive in gangs; they're low-level thugs.

The two were quite fast and soon arrived at the dining room door, but were stopped outside by Zheng Yueying's men.

Hearing the wails coming from his brother Xi Xia inside, Ah Hao was frantic. He rushed in while shouting, "Brother, brother, please help me, I'm looking for Sister Ying. Sister Ying, Sister Ying, Xi Xia is my brother, if he's done anything wrong, I'll take the blame for him."

Hearing the noise, Zheng Yueying frowned even more deeply. This man's voice was too unpleasant to hear. It was deep, hoarse, and a little sharp. It was neither effeminate nor eunuch-like, but rather rough. It was hard to describe accurately, but in short, it was unpleasant to hear.

She wasted a few breaths focusing on the sound, then nodded slightly to her other trusted mute dog beside her, signaling to let the person in.

When the mute dog was an infant, he had a high fever. His parents, who had often become good doctors after losing their own children, thought that the child would die again, or that he would be lucky enough to survive and become an outstanding person—a new generation of village guardian. Who knew that he was incredibly lucky, not only did he survive, but he also only had his vocal cords burned. He could make sounds, but he could not control them and could not learn to speak.

As the saying goes, when God closes a window, he opens a few more dog holes. A mute dog cannot speak, but it has innate superhuman strength. It can lift a 600-jin stone lock and easily wield a 300-jin lock. Its strength can overcome any technique, and five or six martial arts practitioners cannot get close to it.

The greater a person's strength, the higher their muscle mass, basal metabolic rate, and activity level. They need more energy intake than the average person. They eat a lot of dry food, like a bowlful of rice that's overflowing. If they work right after eating, they'll be hungry again in less than two hours.

And so, his parents worked themselves to the bone, but they never managed to feed him properly when he was young. When he was twelve, his parents passed away one after the other. His three older sisters, who had married young, wanted to raise their younger brother, but they were simply too weak to support such a good-for-nothing. They could only leave him to fend for himself.

The mute dog had been wandering for over a decade, enduring hardships and witnessing the wickedness of the world, yet he had never had a full meal. It was only after he met Zheng Yueying that he finally had his first full meal. After a few meals, he discovered that his appetite had decreased, and he could eat his fill with just a third of a washbasin, but his strength had increased.

After thinking about it for a few days, he realized a truth: if you eat well, you can eat less and still feel full.

When people are well-fed and clothed, they think of lust. Zheng Yueying not only made sure that the mute dog was well-fed and clothed, but also satisfied his greedy desire to "have it all." The mute dog had heard many stories and knew about retainers and assassins. He and his second brother were not worried about food, so they naturally knew how to repay the kindness and were loyal to Zheng Yueying. Zheng Yueying entrusted him with the most important transportation work.

The mute dog arrived at the door, waved to his two subordinates, glanced at Ah Hao and Ah Ming, pointed at Ah Hao, and gestured for him to come with him.

Ah-hao followed the mute dog into the dining room and saw the shrimp being cleaned up. He was anxious but dared not step forward to stop it. He could only walk past the mute dog and quickly walk to Zheng Yueying's table. The Hong Kong-style paper on the table caught his eye. He glanced at it greedily and then looked at Zheng Yueying's face.

“Sister Ying, Xi Xia is my brother. Whatever mistake he made, I will take the blame for him.”

Zheng Yueying frowned and looked at Ahao's face. "Your brother helped me move goods, and I paid him three times the wages. But he took the opportunity to steal my goods. When he was caught, he denied it and even threw my goods into the sea. The goods he threw away were worth 20,000 yuan. You're going to carry them? What are you going to carry them with?"

Ah-hao glanced at Shrimp subconsciously, never expecting that this good-for-nothing had caused such a big mess.

"Sister Ying, even if you beat my brother to death, you can't undo your losses. Spare my brother this once, and whatever you want, I, Ah Hao, will accept it."

"Good, loyal and courageous." Zheng Yueying's gaze turned appreciative. Just as she was about to say something to win him over, she caught sight of Wang Xiamin walking into the dining room from the doorway. She immediately stood up and went to greet her.

"Miss Fang, is there something urgent that you've come here so late?"

Wang Xiamin glanced at Xixia, then her gaze swept over the other people's faces before finally settling on Zheng Yueying's. "Miss Zheng, you're getting more and more capable. You don't want to mess with the police, but you're messing with the Political Department. I called Madam and told her to go and get Chen Jingkun out. Come with me to Beihe Street. If we're late, we might not be able to get him out."

Zheng Yueying remained calm upon hearing this and said in a composed manner, "Do I need to bring money?"

Wang Xiamin glanced at the banknotes on the table. "I called Madam. Her demands are definitely not small. Let's go, we'll talk about it when we get there."

Beihe Street.

Cen Peipei's car was parked downstairs at Hechengxing Baimi Building, which is opposite the building where the incident occurred. Sporadic gunshots could be heard from upstairs from time to time, but they were not intense at all.

Li Shiying observed the upstairs through the car window and explained her analysis of the situation to Cen Peipei, "Madam, judging from the noise, there aren't many people upstairs. The two sides are at a stalemate, neither can do anything to the other, and neither dares to make any rash moves. The frequency of firing is getting lower and lower, and the bullets should be running out."

What would you do in this situation?

"It's not easy to handle if one person encounters it, but it's much easier if two people form an assault formation. Our security team has undergone rigorous CQB training and is quite adept at fighting under these conditions."

"Oh." Cen Peipei peered out the window at the upstairs window. "Wouldn't it be easier if we used grenades?"

“Our own magnesium-potassium grenades are better than hand grenades, but…” Li Shiying glanced at the corpse on the billboard, “They probably wouldn’t dare to use them even if they had them.”

The two sides upstairs were indeed fighting cautiously. Just now, when Chen Jingkun showed himself, Angji had a chance to kill him with a single shot, but Little Griffiths shouted to stop him. Angji and the other two were furious and frustrated.

But what could they do even if they were angry? There were several rifles pointed at them from the building across the street. If they dared not listen to their advice, Ongki had no doubt that his side would be shot dead.

Madan Sui took out the last magazine from her body, hesitated for a moment, then took out a bullet from her pocket and put it into the magazine.

Experienced gun enthusiasts know that magazines should never be fully loaded. Handguns are always loaded with one less round than usual. Especially in Myanmar, it's very difficult to get high-quality guns; most are substandard or secondhand. Springs often have problems, and jamming is common.

Madan Sui was running low on bullets; the few bullets left in her pocket weren't enough to fill a magazine.

She loaded the magazine and said to Ongki, "Captain, I'm going out on an adventure."

Ongki shook his head. "There's no need to take the risk. If we can't solve it today, we can find another opportunity later. It will be even more difficult to deal with them in the future."

"Damn the British," Jueying cursed as he loaded the bullets, "They're deliberately making things difficult for us."

"A weak nation is bullied, this is the tragedy of Myanmar," Aung Kyi said, humming the Myanmar national anthem, "The World Will Never Die," "To achieve justice and independence in our country, on our land. To achieve equality and truth, to lead our people to a peaceful life in our country, on our land..."

Madan Hlaing and Kyaw Ying joined the chorus, “We solemnly swear to eternally preserve this heritage of the Union. Until the end of the world, Myanmar will still live on; we love our land, because it is our true heritage.”

Hearing the singing from the rooftop across the street, Little Griffiths' eyes narrowed, and he made a decision: to leave Angki and the other two in Hong Kong and not let them return to Burma alive.

Peace in Myanmar is not in Britain's interest, nor is chaos in Myanmar. Britain needs Myanmar to descend into chaos in the manner and at the pace and in the way it envisions.

After a moment of thought, he said to the person next to him, "Notify the SAS squad to bring their Mauser pistols and wait for my signal to attack the building."

“Yes, sir.”

A few moments.

Downstairs, Wang Xiamin's car stopped next to Cen Peipei's car. She and Zheng Yueying got out of their cars on either side and came to Cen Peipei's car, knocking lightly on the car window.

Li Shiying got out of the car, set up a human shield for Cen Peipei, and gently knocked on the car window.

Cen Peipei put on a headscarf to cover her face before getting out of the car. Li Shiying helped her up the stairs and stopped at a safe spot to wait for Wang Xiamin and the other person.

Wang Xiamin and the other woman followed closely up the stairs, while Zheng Yueying and Cen Peipei stood facing each other.

Cen Peipei removed her headscarf and asked calmly, "Who is Chen Jingkun meeting here?"

"People from northern Myanmar."

"The Burmese Communist Party?"

"Yes."

"Has your supply always been provided by the Burmese Communist Party?"

"No, it was the first time we made contact with the Burmese Communist Party. They were able to deliver goods to Hong Kong."

Cen Peipei nodded, having already known what she wanted to know. She walked upstairs and soon arrived in front of Little Griffith.

Little Griffiths greeted her warmly, "Cen, I'm so sorry to bother you so late."

"It's okay, it's been a long time since I've had a late-night snack. Shall we go for hot pot later?"

Little Griffiths laughed and said, "I'm not used to hot pot, but congee is fine."

“OK.” Cen Peipei gestured to Zheng Yueying, “You two talk.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Cen Peipei took a few steps to the side and stood on the edge looking at the building opposite.

Wang Xiamin followed.

Little Griffiths pointed to the building across the street and said in Cantonese, "50 every month from now on."

Zheng Yueying's face instantly turned ugly. "I can't afford it." (End of Chapter)