Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

In Yau Ma Tei, deep in Temple Street, there's an old-fashioned teahouse with a private room on the third floor.

The curtains were drawn, letting in no light.

Only one chandelier was lit in the room, casting a dim yellow light on the round mahogany table.

Several plates of dim sum were laid out on the table—shrimp dumplings, siu mai, and char siu buns, all steaming hot and freshly served.

A pot of Tieguanyin tea has just been brewed, its aroma wafting through the air.

But no one touched their chopsticks, and no one drank their tea.

Lei Luo sat at the table, dressed in casual clothes, a dark gray short-sleeved shirt, his hair neatly combed, but his face looked terrible.

His eyes were sunken, his lips were dry, and he had bluish stubble on his chin, making him look quite haggard.

Holding a cup of tea, not drinking it, just holding it, my fingers slowly tracing the rim of the cup, round and round.

Chen Feng sat opposite him, wearing a dark short-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and cloth shoes.

His face was expressionless, his eyes were deep and calm.

There was a cup of tea in front of him, but he didn't touch it.

Skinny Monkey stood behind Chen Feng, his hands in his pockets, his waist bulging.

Iron Head leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a big, burly man with a face full of fat.

The man with the gap-toothed man sat on a chair in the corner, a cigarette between his fingers, slowly smoking, the scar on his face appearing and disappearing in the smoke.

The room remained quiet for a long time.

Lei Luo put down his teacup, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Chen Feng.

He knew this wouldn't be easy. Such a huge incident had occurred at the docks, and the foreigners wouldn't let him get involved; he could only watch.

Now the North Americans have come knocking on his door, demanding an explanation.

Chen Feng looked at him and spoke, his voice as calm as if he were chatting casually: "Brother Luo, how are we going to settle the matter at the docks?"

Lei Luo frowned.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip.

The tea has gone cold; it's astringent and bitter.

He swallowed slowly, put down the teacup, looked at Chen Feng, at his expressionless face, and at those unfathomable eyes.

He knew that the Yankee hadn't come to ask him for a favor, but to inform him.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward slightly, placed his hands on the table, and lowered his voice so low that only Chen Feng could hear him: "The North Americans and the Westerners won't let us get involved. You'll have to take back the docks yourself. There's nothing I can do about it."

Chen Feng looked at him, his eyes still expressionless.

Lei Luo waited for a second, then two seconds.

Seeing that he didn't speak, she felt a little uneasy—what exactly did this Northerner want?

Chen Feng leaned back in his chair, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and put it down.

Then he spoke, his voice still as calm as if he were having a casual conversation: "Okay."

Lei Luo was stunned, looking at Chen Feng in surprise.

Chen Feng stood up, straightened his collar, and looked at him: "Brother Luo, I'll wait for your news."

He turned and walked towards the door.

Skinny Monkey followed behind, Iron Head followed behind, and Gap Tooth stubbed out his cigarette and followed behind as well.

The four people walked out of the private room, their footsteps gradually fading away in the corridor.

Leilo sat there, looking at the closed door.

He stood up, walked to the window, pulled back the curtains a crack, and looked down at the alley below.

Chen Feng walked out of the teahouse and got into a black sedan.

The car started and slowly drove away.

He lowered the curtains, turned around, walked back to the table, sat down, picked up the now-cold tea, and drank it all in one gulp.

Princess Jin, third-floor office.

The door was closed, and the curtains were half-drawn, allowing the afternoon sunlight to stream in through the window, casting dappled shadows throughout the room.

The faint sounds of the bustling city outside the window could be heard, but after being separated by glass, only a muffled buzzing could be heard.

Chen Feng sat behind his desk, with a map of the dock spread out in front of him.

The map marks the location of every warehouse, every passageway, and every guard post.

This is what he asked Skinny Monkey to draw over the past few days. He drew it three times, and each time it was more detailed than the last.

The locations of bullet holes, patrol times, and shift changes were all clearly marked with pens of different colors.

Skinny Monkey stood in front of him, while Iron Head, Gap Tooth, and Mud Loach stood beside him.

Four people, four brothers who came with him from the mainland.

Chen Feng looked up at them and spoke calmly, "The dock has been taken over by Ruan Bao. The foreigners won't let Lei Luo get involved. We'll take it back ourselves."

Skinny Monkey clenched his fists, Iron Head gritted his teeth, Gap Tooth stubbed out his cigarette, and Mud Loach poked his head out from the shadows.

Chen Feng stood up and walked to the map of Hong Kong Island on the wall.

He pointed to the dock, turned around, and looked at the five men: "Skinny Monkey, you take ten men to the east side of the dock. Iron Head, you take ten men to the west side. Gap Tooth, you take ten men to the south side. Mud Loach, you take ten men to the north side. Don't let a single one of them escape from the dock."

The four people responded in unison.

Chen Feng looked at them, his eyes still expressionless.

Skinny Monkey nodded, turned around, and strode out. Iron Head followed behind him, Gap Tooth followed behind him, and Mudfish followed behind him.

Four people filed out, their footsteps echoing in the corridor, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared completely.

The door closed behind me.

Chen Feng was the only one left in the room.

He stood by the window, looking at the gray sky outside.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a thin layer of gold on the glass.

He stood there for a long time, then turned around, walked to the corner, and opened the wardrobe.

Tactical jacket, black, redeemed from the system.

The tactical vest was black and had two bulletproof inserts inside.

The pistol was tucked into his waistband, the submachine gun was slung over his shoulder, and the magazines were stuffed into the pockets of his tactical vest, all neatly arranged in a row, eight in total.

He tucked the dagger into his boot, stuffed the grenade into his pocket, the smoke grenade into his pocket, and the flashbang into his pocket.

Three proximity mines, placed in the side pocket of the tactical vest.

He closed the wardrobe, walked to the door, pushed it open, and went out.

The corridor was quiet, with the wall lamps casting a dim yellow light, and a thick carpet that made no sound when you stepped on it.

Skinny Monkey stood at the top of the stairs, Iron Head stood next to him, Gap Tooth leaned against the wall, and Mud Loach huddled in the corner. The four of them straightened up when they saw Chen Feng come out.

Chen Feng looked at them and said calmly, "Proceed according to plan. Wait for my signal."

The four people nodded.

Chen Feng turned around and walked down the stairs.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing fainter and fainter until it finally disappeared completely.

Skinny Monkey stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the empty stairwell, for a long time.

Then he turned around, looked at Iron Head, Gap Tooth, and Mud Loach, and said in a hoarse voice, "Did you all hear that? Proceed according to plan."

The skinny monkey turned around and walked down the stairs.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, like the beating of drums, growing fainter and fainter until it finally disappeared completely.

pier.

Night had fallen, and the sea was pitch black, with only a few scattered lights on cargo ships in the distance.

A salty sea breeze blew by, carrying the chill of early autumn, causing the metal containers on the dock to creak slightly.

Ruan Bao stood at the window of the dock office, looking out at the brightly lit dock.

He was wearing a dark combat uniform, with two pistols at his waist and a submachine gun slung over his shoulder.

The bullet belt was slung across his body, and the bright yellow bullets gleamed darkly in the moonlight.

The gold chain around his neck swayed under the light. His lips were upturned, and his eyes shone with a burning intensity.

Several days have passed since we took control of the dock.

His men—twenty in total—controlled every warehouse, every passageway, and every sentry post.

The dockworkers worked under his gun, daring not to speak out against his anger.

There's been absolutely no movement from the North.

He thought the Yankees would come, would bring men, and would fight him. But the Yankees didn't come. He thought the Yankees were afraid.

The corners of her mouth turned up even higher.