Hong Kong Film: Short mules have no future, I am in charge of Hong Kong

Chapter 352 James is not someone you can touch.

"Who's there?" came a low shout from inside, followed by heavy, hurried footsteps.

Su Hanze took a step back and hid in the shadows. The warehouse door creaked open, and a man dressed in black poked his head out, a short knife in his hand, his eyes scanning the darkness. Su Hanze held his breath and gestured for Ahua to stay still. The man cursed something, closed the door, and his footsteps disappeared back into the warehouse.

"Master Su, what should we do?" Ahua leaned closer, his voice barely audible.

"Wait," Su Hanze said coldly. "There are too many of them. If we force our way in, we'll be courting death. Let's listen to what they're doing."

The two crouched in the shadows, listening to the intermittent sounds coming from inside the warehouse. Su Hanze listened for a while, then frowned. The people inside were speaking Teochew dialect, interspersed with a few words of English, mentioning "goods" and "James." Just as he was about to listen further, the sound of a car suddenly came from behind the warehouse, and the headlights flashed, making him squint.

"Let's go!" Su Hanze pulled Ahua and quickly retreated to the alley next door. Car headlights swept past and stopped at the back door of the warehouse. A black sedan opened its door, and two people got out. One was Smith, leaning on a cane, his sunglasses gleaming in the night. The other was a short, stout middle-aged man, wearing a gray mandarin jacket, sporting a mustache, and with a gloomy look in his eyes.

“Li Guangsheng,” Su Hanze muttered to himself, recognizing the middle-aged man.

"Master Su, is that Li Guangsheng?" Ahua's eyes widened. "He's with Smith?"

"Shut up." Su Hanze glared at him, his gaze fixed on the two of them. Smith and Li Guangsheng whispered a few words and went into the warehouse. After the door closed, the noise grew louder, like they were arguing. Su Hanze gestured for Ahua to follow, and the two went around to the side of the warehouse, found a broken window, and quietly peeked inside.

A few oil lamps flickered in the warehouse, casting a dim, yellowish light. Old Liang was tied to a chair, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes half-open and half-closed—clearly he had been beaten. Smith stood before him, tapping his cane on the ground, his tone icy: "Mr. Liang, how long have you been with Su Hanze?"

Old Liang, panting, looked up and said, "Mr. Shi... I'm just a gofer, I don't know anything."

"Don't know?" Smith sneered, taking off his sunglasses, his blue eyes gleaming like a wolf's under the lights. "Mr. Leung, Sai Kung isn't Hong Kong's territory. You think we don't know that Su Hanze wants to investigate the goods?"

Old Liang gritted his teeth and remained silent. Li Guangsheng, who was standing next to him, walked over and said with a dark face, "Brother Liang, you're from Chaozhou, and so am I. Let's be honest, what is Su Hanze investigating? How much do you know about James's matter?"

“Mr. Li…” Old Liang coughed up blood, his voice hoarse, “I really don’t know. Master Su asked me to check the goods at the dock, and that’s all I know.”

"The cargo at the dock?" Li Guangsheng narrowed his eyes, his tone sinister. "Brother Liang, you're very stubborn. James's cargo is not something you can touch."

Smith waved his hand, signaling Li Guangsheng to be quiet. He squatted down, staring into Old Liang's eyes: "Mr. Liang, I'll ask one more time. Where is Su Hanze? What is he investigating?"

Old Liang gritted his teeth and shut his mouth. Smith sneered, stood up, and with a light flick of his cane, the man in black beside him stepped forward and punched Old Liang in the stomach. Old Liang groaned and lowered his head.

Su Hanze's eyes twitched as he watched from outside the window, his grip on the dagger tightening. Ahua, sweating profusely, whispered, "Master Su, we have to save them!"

"Don't rush," Su Hanze said coldly. "There are too many people; a direct confrontation is useless. Let's wait until they disperse."

The sounds from inside the warehouse continued. Smith lit a cigarette and said slowly, "Mr. Liang, you won't talk, right? It's alright. Su Hanze will come looking for you sooner or later, and then I'll talk to him myself."

Li Guangsheng sneered: "Mr. Shi, this Su fellow is too tactless. James said that when it comes to the goods, whoever touches them dies."

“Death?” Smith exhaled a smoke ring and smiled meaningfully. “Mr. Li, James doesn’t want dead people, he wants obedient people. If Su Hanze is willing to cooperate, the business in Hong Kong can be expanded even further.”

"Cooperation?" Li Guangsheng frowned. "That kid is as slippery as an eel. Can we really cooperate with him?"

“Give it a try.” Smith tapped his cane. “If he really doesn’t know what’s good for him, the docks in Saigon will be his grave.”

Su Hanze listened intently outside the window, his eyes as cold as knives. He whispered to Ahua, "Remember, Smith and Li Guangsheng are in cahoots. James is behind them; they're afraid I'll investigate the goods."

"What exactly is this?" Ahua couldn't help but ask. "Jade? Opium? Or something else?"

“Anything is possible.” Su Hanze frowned. “In James’s mines, jade is just a front; opium is the real business. Last night’s looting at the docks was probably just some internal mess.”

"Inside?" Ahua was taken aback. "Master Su, do you mean James's men stole his goods?"

“Possibly.” Su Hanze sneered. “These people have done plenty of dog-eat-dog things. Let’s go back first and ask Old Huang something.”

The two quietly retreated into the alley, avoiding the warehouse lights, and headed towards the market. The night deepened, and the intermittent whistles of the docks seemed to remind Su Hanze that the situation was becoming increasingly dangerous.

Back at the market, Old Huang's teahouse was already closed, with only a lantern hanging at the entrance. Su Hanze knocked on the door and whispered, "Old Huang, open the door."

The door creaked open, and Old Huang poked his head out, startled: "Mr. Su? Why are you back again?"

"I have something to ask you." Su Hanze pushed open the door and went in, with Ahua following behind. Old Huang hurriedly lit the lamp and brought over two cups of tea, his eyes darting around.

"Old Huang, stop pretending." Su Hanze sat down and lit a cigarette. "How much do you really know about the people who looted the warehouses south of the dock last night?"

"Mr. Su, I...I really don't know!" Old Huang was sweating profusely. "I just heard that last night masked men with guns robbed Boss Chen of his goods. I don't know anything else!"

“Masked man.” Su Hanze narrowed his eyes. “Old Huang, how many years have you been in Saigon? Don’t tell me you haven’t heard a thing.”

Old Huang swallowed hard, hesitated for a long time, and then said in a low voice, "Mr. Su, to tell you the truth, please don't spread it around. Everyone at the dock is keeping quiet about what happened last night, but I heard something... the people who snatched the goods seem to be Vietnamese."

"Vietnamese?" Su Hanze was taken aback. "Are you sure?"

"Not sure!" Old Huang hurriedly waved his hand. "I just heard someone mention it, saying they came from Vietnam, maybe James's men, or maybe another gang. Things at the docks are too chaotic, I dare not ask too much!"

“Vietnam…” Su Hanze frowned, his mind racing. James had a stake in a mine in Vietnam, and with the Vietnamese involved in last night's robbery, this connection was becoming increasingly complicated. Just as he was about to ask another question, Ahua suddenly pushed open the door, his face pale: “Master Su, something bad has happened! Boss Chen's men are here again!” Su Hanze jumped up and went to the door. Seven or eight burly men stood outside the market, led by Axiong, who was carrying a machete and had a fierce look in his eyes. He saw Su Hanze and sneered: “You, surnamed Su, you really aren't afraid of death! I told you, don't worry about the goods!”

"Ah Xiong," Su Hanze said coldly, exhaling a puff of smoke, "Your boss has some nerve. His goods were stolen, and he still dares to yell here?"

"Bullshit!" Ah Xiong blushed and brandished his machete. "Su Hanze, stop causing trouble here! It's none of your business what happens at the docks!"

"Not my turn?" Su Hanze sneered, the dagger sliding into his hand. "Axiong, go back and tell Boss Chen that I've investigated the goods. I also need to find out who James is."

"You!" Ah Xiong's face turned green with rage, and he raised his machete to charge. Su Hanze dodged to the side, a glint of cold light flashing from his dagger. Ah Xiong felt a sharp pain in his wrist, and the machete fell to the ground. He clutched his hand, cursing in agony, "Su Hanze, you fucking wait! Boss Chen won't let you get away with this!"

"Get out," Su Hanze said coldly. "If you come again, it won't just be your hand that gets broken."

Ah Xiong gritted his teeth and slunk away with his men. Su Hanze sheathed his dagger and turned back to the teahouse. Old Huang was terrified, his face turning pale: "Mr. Su, who...who have you offended?"

"Nobody." Su Hanze sat down and lit a cigarette. "Old Huang, does anyone else know about the Vietnamese looting the goods?"

Old Huang swallowed hard and lowered his voice: "Mr. Su, are you really going to investigate? James's men are ruthless. Nobody at the docks dares to mention what happened last night."

"Speak," Su Hanze said, staring at him calmly.

Old Huang sighed and said in a low voice, "I've only heard that the Vietnamese who stole the goods were probably transferred from there by James. They disappeared the day after they finished their work. Some people say they went back to Vietnam, while others say they're still in Saigon, and nobody knows where they're hiding."

"Hide?" Su Hanze narrowed his eyes. "Old Huang, who in Saigon can hide someone?"

“Tibetans…” Old Huang hesitated for a moment, “Mr. Su, it’s easy for Tibetans to get into Saigon. Those warehouses south of the dock are very chaotic, and there are also villages in the mountains where James’s men often go.”

"In the mountains?" Su Hanze frowned. "Which village?"

“Just outside Saigon, head north, past the old forest, there’s a place called Black Stone Village.” Old Huang lowered his voice. “Nobody dares to go there. I heard James has a hideout there.”

“Black Stone Village…” Su Hanze nodded, his mind racing. James, a Vietnamese man, the docks, the warehouse, Black Stone Village… this thread kept stretching longer and longer. Just as he was about to ask another question, a gunshot suddenly rang out outside, sharp as if tearing through the night.

"Master Su!" Ahua trembled with fright and rushed to the window. "What's going on?"

Su Hanze abruptly stood up and pushed open the teahouse door. The market outside was pitch black, save for a single, flickering streetlamp. Footsteps approached from afar, hurried and chaotic, like someone running. He squinted, his dagger sliding into his hand, and whispered, "Ahua, hide."

Ahua quickly shrank under the table, while Su Hanze pressed himself against the wall, slowly approaching the door. The footsteps grew closer, mixed with low curses and panting. He peeked out and saw two dark figures running out of the alleyway, carrying sacks on their backs, as if they had just stolen something from the docks. One of the figures glanced back and cursed, "Hurry! Smith's men are coming!"

"Smith?" Su Hanze frowned, the conversation between Smith and Li Guangsheng in the warehouse flashing through his mind. Just as he was about to follow, several more people suddenly appeared at the alley entrance, dressed in black and carrying guns, heading straight for the two dark figures.

"Halt!" the leader of the men in black shouted, raising his hand to fire a shot. The bullet grazed the ground, sending sparks flying. The two figures in black flinched in fright, dropped their sacks, and ran for their lives.

Su Hanze hid in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the pile of sacks. The gunshot sent the market into complete chaos; several vendors who hadn't yet closed turned off their lights and locked themselves. Old Huang huddled trembling in the teahouse, whispering, "Mr. Su, what...what do we do?"

"Don't make a sound," Su Hanze said coldly, his gaze sweeping across the alley. The men in black had chased after the two shadowy figures and were now far away, leaving the sack lying unattended by the roadside. He whispered to Ahua, "Go, drag the sack over here."

"Master Su?" Ahua's eyes widened. "That's stolen goods! What if it's opium..."

"Drag him over here!" Su Hanze glared at him. "Quickly!"

Ahua gritted his teeth, crouched low, and ran out, dragging the sack back to the teahouse. Su Hanze closed the door, drew his dagger, and cut open the sack. Inside were jadeite rough stones, a vibrant green, but underneath were several packets of white powder emitting a strange smell.

“Opium…” Ahua gasped. “Master Su, this really is James’s stuff!”

Su Hanze remained silent, staring at the pile of powder, his eyes as cold as ice. James, Smith, Li Guangsheng, Boss Chen, the Vietnamese… these people were like a net, slowly tightening. Just as he was about to speak, footsteps sounded outside the teahouse again, steady and slow, as if testing the waters.

“Mr. Su?” a deep voice sounded, with a slightly foreign accent. “I know you’re inside.”

Su Hanze was taken aback, recognizing Smith's voice. He sneered, pushed open the door, and stood in the doorway. Smith leaned on his cane, his sunglasses gleaming under the streetlights, followed by two men in black, each holding a gun.

"Mr. Shi," Su Hanze lit a cigarette, his tone calm, "It's late, why are you here for tea?"

“I won’t have the tea.” Smith smiled and took off his sunglasses. “Mr. Su, you’ve investigated the goods thoroughly enough.”

“Deep?” Su Hanze sneered. “Mr. Shi, your men just fired shots in the alley, and the goods were all left on the road. James’s business is quite a meddlesome affair.”

Smith's face darkened as he stared at Su Hanze: "Mr. Su, you're a smart man. James said that the matter of the goods ends here. If you investigate any further, you might not be able to leave Saigon's docks."

"Can't get out?" Su Hanze exhaled a puff of smoke, his gaze sweeping over the man in black behind Smith. "Mr. Smith, your men aren't very good with a gun."

Smith chuckled and tapped his cane on the ground. "Mr. Su, you can try your hand at marksmanship. But let me give you a piece of advice: Saigon isn't Hong Kong, and James isn't someone you can mess with."

The night was deep, and Saigon's dock area looked as if it had been splattered with ink, with only a few dim streetlights swaying in the wind. Su Hanze and Ah Hua hid in Old Huang's teahouse, a burlap sack hidden under the table containing jade rough and several packets of opium. A pungent, strange smell filled the air. Su Hanze lit a cigarette, his gaze sweeping out the window. Smith was no longer at the alley entrance, but his words lingered in his mind like a thorn.

(End of this chapter)