Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

"Long time no see."

These five seemingly insignificant words were like five cold, deadly nails, driven firmly into Han Laowai's heels through the top of his head.

He opened his withered mouth, and a gurgling sound like a bellows leaking air came from his throat, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

A warm, fishy stench spread from his tattered cotton trousers, instantly seeping into a pool of yellowish, murky water on the snow.

Han Laowai instinctively wanted to shrink deeper into the hole.

But the tunnel was only so wide, and beneath him was a scarred-eyed Liu desperately trying to push his way out.

"Old Han, what the hell are you doing, acting like a madman! Climb up already!"

Scarface Liu, struggling to breathe from below, impatiently used his only remaining good hand to push Han Laowai's buttocks.

After two attempts to push it without success, Scarface Liu forced half of his head out from under Old Han's armpit, cursing as he raised his one eye to look outside.

I only glanced at it.

Scarface Liu's face, contorted with pain and ecstasy, instantly shrunk to a dead skin.

The Black Star pistol in his hand was as hot as a red-hot iron; his thumb was pressing the safety firmly, but he had completely lost the strength to even lift the muzzle.

Zhao Shanhe sat on the broken monument, slowly took out a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes from his pocket, knocked one out and put it in his mouth.

Instead of lighting the fire, he casually pointed with the hand holding the matchbox to the tattered cloth bag around Scarface Liu's neck.

"Exchange the money for cash, hire some ruthless people, chop him up, and feed him to the dogs."

Zhao Shanhe repeated exactly the harsh words that Scarface Liu had said in the tunnel, his tone as calm as if he were chatting casually: "You've got a pretty clear strategy."

He struck a match, turned his head to light a cigarette, and took a deep drag.

The scarlet cigarette butt flickered in the pale moonlight.

"Did you bring enough money?"

Zhao Shanhe casually tossed the burnt-out matchstick onto the snow, his military boots making a crisp snapping sound as they stepped on the dry branches.

He stood up, carrying the Type 56 rifle in one hand, and walked down to the tunnel entrance. The cold barrel of the Type 56 rifle, like an emotionless icicle, pressed diagonally against Han Laowai's chest.

"Master...Master Zhao..."

Old Han's face was contorted into a grotesque mess, his eyes filled with utter despair. He tilted his head back and howled pitifully like a desperate, lost dog.

"Spare my life... Master Zhao, you killed my son Dalong, and I'm now a cripple... Just pretend you didn't say anything, and give me..."

boom!

Zhao Shanhe didn't even blink before his index finger swiftly pulled the trigger.

A muffled close-range gunshot rang out, shattering the narrow tunnel entrance.

Han Laowai's voice stopped abruptly.

He suddenly widened his cloudy, yellowed old eyes, and clutched his withered left hand tightly to his chest, as if trying to plug the steaming, bloody hole.

But the bullet had already ripped his heart apart, and large mouthfuls of black blood gushed out from between his fingers, instantly staining half of the tunnel red.

Han Laowai's body convulsed violently twice, then slid down the slope like a hollowed-out piece of rotten wood, landing heavily on Scarface Liu.

"Uh... Ah!"

Scarface Liu shuddered as the still-warm blood scalded him, and a half-sounded scream escaped his throat.

His single eye was filled with a thick, reddish-white substance, and through his blurred vision, he could only see Zhao Shanhe's towering figure.

Scarface Liu gripped the Black Star pistol tightly with his remaining left hand, his finger already on the trigger.

But he didn't dare to fire.

He no longer had any courage to resist Zhao Shanhe, this godlike man.

Zhao Shanhe stood expressionless at the tunnel entrance, deftly pulling the bolt with one hand. The scorching brass cartridge case hissed as it fell into the pool of blood, emitting a wisp of smoke.

With a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his mouth, he looked down at Scarface Liu, who was pinned down by the corpse and unable to move.

I'm giving you two choices.

"First, you need to climb out of here right now."

"Second, I'll shoot you dead, then drag you out like a dead dog. You choose."

"First! First! I'll climb out myself right now!"

Hearing Zhao Shanhe's calm yet chilling tone, he felt a chill run down his spine, and his soul almost flew away in fright.

"Get rid of what you're holding first."

Zhao Shanhe looked down at the cave entrance, his Type 56 crosshairs slightly lowered, his tone as cold and hard as an iron plate: "Slow down. If there's even the slightest sign of disobedience, I'll assume you've chosen the second option."

"I'll throw it away! I'll throw it away right now!"

Scarface Liu dared not hesitate. With his only remaining good hand, he very slowly pulled the Black Star pistol from his pocket.

He held his breath, his fingers carefully gripping the corner of the gun handle as if he were holding a piece of burning coal, afraid of causing Zhao Shanhe the slightest misunderstanding.

pat.

He gently tossed the Black Star pistol into the bloody mud at the bottom of the cave.

"Master Zhao, I've thrown away the gun; I'm out of weapons!"

Scarface Liu, like a crazed maggot, desperately pushed away Han Laowai's corpse that was pressing down on him, using both hands and feet to wriggle out of his cocoon.

His broken leg thrashed and slammed in the tunnel, causing him to break out in a cold sweat from the pain, but he didn't dare utter a sound, fearing that if he slowed down, the killing god above him would pull the trigger.

Finally, his old face, covered in blood and mud, emerged from the hole.

As soon as he came into contact with the biting cold wind outside, he ignored the excruciating pain of his broken leg and knelt down on the snow with a thud.

He shakily pulled the tattered cloth bag, stained with blood and mud, off his neck, held it tightly in his hands, and tremblingly raised it above his head.

"Master Zhao! Master Zhao, spare my life!"

"This bag contains six large yellow croakers and two thousand yuan in cash, all of it! Not a penny less!"

Scarface Liu, his face streaked with snot and tears, held up the cloth bundle as if offering it to an ancestor: "This is all yours! Please, have mercy and just let me go!"

The wind and snow were howling.

Zhao Shanhe looked down at him from his high vantage point.

Those eyes, devoid of any warmth, didn't even glance at the cloth bag full of gold bars, as if they were looking at a pile of rotten flesh.

The oppressive silence sent a shiver down Scarface Liu's spine.

Money isn't working?

He panicked completely, his lips trembling as if shaking in the wind. He quickly changed his story, crying and wailing as he tried to exonerate himself:

"Master Zhao! This is all that old bastard Han Laowai's fault! It's because of you...you killed his son Dalong before, and now that the old man's line is cut off, he's determined to seek revenge on you by finding Lei Zi in the underworld!"

Scarface Liu, his face streaked with tears and snot, pounded his chest and desperately tried to distance himself: "I absolutely refused! I said Master Zhao is a real man, we can't afford to mess with him! But this old bastard has something on me, he threatened me with my son, I was forced into this!"

As if grasping at a last straw, he dragged his broken leg forward two steps in the snow, a fervent hope blazing in his single eye:

"Oh, right! My son... my son's name is Liu Cheng! He just graduated last year and is now working under Director Zhang Guodong of the county bureau! Mr. Zhao, you have such a big influence in town, you must know Director Zhang, right? Please, for Director Zhang's sake..."

"What leverage?"

Zhao Shanhe coldly interrupted his wailing.

These four words, without even a question mark, were like a bloody dagger stabbed directly into Scarface Liu's throat.

Scarface Liu's voice abruptly stopped, his Adam's apple bobbing violently twice before he stammered out:

"Well... at the beginning, I was terrified of poverty and wanted to bypass the supply and marketing cooperative to secretly buy some hides at a high price to make a profit and supplement my family's income... That old bastard Han Laowai somehow found out about it. He said that if I didn't work with him, he would go to the police station and accuse me of speculation and completely ruin my son Liu Cheng's future! I did it for my child..."

In the wind and snow, Zhao Shanhe listened quietly to this tearful defense.

He slowly tossed the cigarette butt, now burned to the end, onto the ground, stepped on it with his military boot, and crushed it into a puddle of black ash.

"Old Liu, your kind fatherly heart is so touching, it brings tears to my eyes."

Zhao Shanhe, carrying the Type 56 pistol in one hand, slowly squatted down, looking at Scarface Liu's old face, his voice carrying a calm that could freeze one to the bone:

"But just now in the tunnel, didn't you say that once you caught your breath, you were going to use this bag of yellow croakers to exchange for silver dollars, hire an even more ruthless guy, and chop my whole family into mincemeat to feed the dogs?"

"Excuse me, what's going on here?"