I manufacture weapons in the Middle East and am wanted globally?

greedy!

Extremely greedy!

Extremely greedy!

10%?

Of course, Boss Chen disagreed. "If you cut off one of my ten fingers, what am I supposed to do?"

Isn't this going to kill me?

"The Adnan brothers."

Chen Zheng put down his teacup and sighed. "You don't know my situation. I have to support workers, repair machines, pay for materials, and settle freight charges. My brothers who rely on me for their livelihood all have families to support. I can't let them starve, can I? 10% is just too much. After completing this order, I only earn a meager living."

"Look, could you make it a little less?"

Adnan took the cigarette from his mouth, flicked off the ash, and looked at him with a smile: "How much less?"

1%.

"puff--"

Adnan choked on the mouthful of wine he had just drunk, spitting it out of his nose. He bent over abruptly, coughing until his face turned red and tears streamed down his face. The wine glass on the table wobbled, almost spilling.

The person next to him quickly handed him a tissue.

Adnan took it, covered his mouth and coughed for a while before he recovered, then looked up at Chen Zheng.

"Bruce, my brother."

"Are you trying to kill me?! Your bargaining is hitting a nerve!"

Chen Zheng wasn't embarrassed at all. "If I don't cut more, what am I supposed to cut?"

There's a saying in Sichuan: "Cut the price in half when you meet them, and then cut it in half again when you bargain!"

"You think I'm taking all 10%? If I, Adnan, were that greedy, I wouldn't be able to survive in the Bekaa Valley anymore. I've made my living by being honest and fair!"

切…

You're honest with everyone, young and old... but you only cheat adults, right?

"You think just anyone can get into a military industrial exhibition? You need an invitation. How many years and how many favors did I spend building up my relationship with those people?"

"Even if you manage to infiltrate, with over sixty armed groups inside, do you know who genuinely wants to buy the goods and who is an undercover agent sent by the intelligence agency? Do you know who to negotiate prices with and who not to negotiate with? I've dealt with all of these people, and I know who is genuinely doing business and who is just fishing."

"Even if you find someone genuinely interested in buying, do you think that's the end of it? How do you negotiate the price, how do you deliver the goods, how do you pay, and who will guarantee things if problems arise? Without a middleman to guarantee these things, who will trust a newcomer with an Asian face like you?"

Adnan had one more thing he didn't say: You think you're Poly?

Poly doesn't need guarantees.

Chen Zheng was silent for a few seconds, then laughed, sighed dejectedly, and said, "Forget it, my small business can't afford to play this game right now. Next time, next time I need something, I'll definitely come to you."

When is the next time?

The eighth day of the week!

Adnan wasn't angry. He stood up with a smile, extended his hand, and said, "No problem. You can contact me anytime if you need anything in the future. My phone is on 24/7."

Chen Zheng joked with a laugh, "What if I disturb you while you're doing X?"

"I can let her play by herself first."

Chen Zheng let go, bent down to pick up the travel bag at his feet, and slung it over his shoulder. Khalid and Li Yang also stood up.

Li Yang quickly downed the last bit of tea in his cup, wiped his mouth, and followed.

Adnan escorted them to the bar entrance.

When the door was pushed open, the night wind rushed in, carrying the scent of eucalyptus and earth, cool and refreshing, making one shiver.

The night breeze dispelled most of the effects of the alcohol he had just drunk, and his mind cleared up.

He opened the car door, threw his travel bag on the back seat, got into the passenger seat, and fastened his seatbelt.

Khalid started the engine, and the Corolla's headlights came on, two beams of white light cutting through the night and illuminating the gray-white gravel road ahead.

The car slowly drove off the dirt road and turned onto the main road back into the valley.

In the rearview mirror, the kerosene lamp at the bar entrance grew smaller and smaller, more and more blurry, until it became a tiny speck of light and disappeared behind the eucalyptus grove.

The carriage was quiet for a while.

Then Khalid spoke, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his tone hesitant: "Boss, I think we should cooperate with Adnan."

Chen Zheng leaned back in his seat and rolled down the car window a crack to let the night breeze in, which felt cool on his face.

He took out a cigarette from his pocket, put one in his mouth, lit it with one hand, took a drag, and exhaled the smoke, watching it being torn into strips by the wind blowing in through the car window.

"Arms trading is like prostitution, it's always a seller's market, supply can't keep up with demand." He took the cigarette out of his mouth.

"In the Middle East, how many people are fighting? How many are buying guns? How many are hoarding weapons? If my neighbor hoards food, I'll swallow their guns; my neighbor is my granary!"

"If all the smugglers take 10%, what do we earn? Nothing?"

"I feel like the sky is falling if I lose even one dollar!"

"Most importantly, our production capacity is really limited, and that's the fundamental problem."

That's true...

Khalid's lips moved slightly. "But if we don't go to arms exhibitions, how are we going to find new distributors? Abu Ali is dead, and now we only have Hassan as our order..."

"go."

Chen Zheng interrupted him, "Why aren't you going?"

Khalid was taken aback and turned to look at him.

"The customers inside are from large factories. How can a small factory like ours go in and compete with them for meat? Who says we can't hand out flyers outside?"

"We just take on some odd jobs. When someone attends the conference, we'll just leave a flyer at the door."

"Eating too fast will make you stuffed to death!"

Khalid nodded in agreement upon hearing this.

There are only so many machines, and Kato X only has ten fingers, right? You can't expect him to use his toes, can you?

Li Yang leaned forward, his hands gripping the back of the passenger seat. "Brother Chen, where are we staying tonight? Back up the mountain again?"

"Let's go up the mountain to rest for the night. I won't feel at ease down here with so much money."

Li Yang glanced at the bag in Chen Ge's eyes, his own gaze burning with desire.

That's $18! That's equivalent to a three-bedroom apartment back home.

Even the bride price…

Hmm... thinking about it this way, it doesn't seem like there's that much.

He quickly nodded and shrank back into the back seat.

"What's the date tomorrow?" Chen Zheng suddenly asked.

"November 1th."

I'll pay you your salary tomorrow.

Li Yang was taken aback at first, then happy, and a little shy, "Brother Chen, I've only been working here for a few days?"

"What? You think the payout is too much? Then I'll donate it to the Middle East Red Cross."

Li Yang quickly said, "No, thank you, Brother Chen!"

Who wouldn't be happy to get paid?

...

Meanwhile, 4000 kilometers away.

Yangon, Myanmar.

In a small hotel room, the curtains were drawn tightly shut, with only a bedside lamp on the bedside table. The air conditioner's outdoor unit hummed outside the window, not loud, but it sounded particularly clear in the quiet room.

Several plastic bags were spread on the ground, containing half-eaten fried rice and several empty Coke cans.

The air was filled with the smell of cooking oil, mixed with the damp heat seeping in through the cracks in the window, making it hard to breathe.

Gao Fei and his three friends are eating takeout!

Wang Lei spoke up, his voice carrying a southern Henan accent: "Afei, we've been in Myanmar for three days now. Is your brother... reliable?"

Gao Fei took the cola away from his mouth and wiped the foam from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Brother Lei."

"Zheng and I grew up together, he won't stand me up!"

"Don't worry."

Wang Lei looked up and nodded.

Just then, my phone, which was on the bedside table, vibrated.

The buzzing sound was particularly loud on the plastic cabinet surface.

Gao Fei glanced at the screen; it was an unfamiliar number. He answered it, held the phone to his ear, and didn't say anything.

A man's voice came from the other end of the phone, speaking Chinese, but his accent sounded strange. "Gao Fei? There's something of yours. Where are you?"

"Mandalay, Changmiaodach District, intersection of 82nd Street and 32nd Street, Ruyi Hotel, Room 306."

"Coming right away."

The phone hangs up.

Gao Fei took the phone away from his ear.

"You're here?" Wang Lei asked.

Gao Fei nodded, walked to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and looked outside.

Downstairs was a narrow alley, opposite which was a row of old-fashioned shops with their tin roll-up doors pulled all the way down. Only one 24-hour convenience store was still lit up, its pale light shining on the empty street, where there wasn't a soul in sight.

A motorcycle drove past the alley entrance, the sound of its engine growing louder and then fading away, before disappearing completely.

He lowered the curtains, turned around, leaned against the windowsill, crossed his arms, and said nothing.

About ten minutes.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor.

The footsteps were soft, but in the corridors of this old-fashioned hotel, each step was clearly audible. The footsteps drew closer and closer, then stopped at the door of room 306.

dong dong dong.

Three taps, neither too fast nor too slow, neither too light nor too heavy.

Gao Fei walked over, placed his hand on the doorknob, but didn't rush to open the door. He turned his head, pressed his ear against the door, and listened for a moment.

On the other side of the door, there was the sound of breathing, two people, one in front of the other. He heard one of them clear his throat, very lightly, as if unintentionally.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

The corridor lights flooded in, a stark white that made the contours of people's faces appear even more hardened.

A man stood in the doorway. He was short, with dark skin, high cheekbones, and thick lips—a typical Burmese appearance. He wore a dark blue short-sleeved shirt, buttoned all the way up, gray trousers, and black plastic sandals.

There was another person standing behind him, younger, wearing a white shirt and jeans, carrying a brown paper bag, with his head down, so his face was not visible.

The leader glanced at Gao Fei, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment, before sweeping over the three people in the room.

"Your things."

Gao Fei accepted it and thanked him.

The leading man said nothing, turned around, and led the young man back down the corridor.

The footsteps grew fainter and fainter until the stairwell door was pushed open and then closed, and the footsteps disappeared completely.

Gao Fei stood at the door, listening to the footsteps disappear. He closed the door, hung the door chain, turned around, walked to the bedside, and placed the paper bag on the bed.

The paper bag was a regular brown kraft paper bag, without any markings, logos, or words. It only had a few creases and a slight scratch. The opening was sealed with transparent tape, which was applied neatly, not haphazardly.

Liu Yang and the others stood up from the sofa and gathered around the bed. The four of them surrounded the paper bag as if it were some rare object.

Gao Fei tore off the tape, opened the paper bag, and poured the contents onto the bed.

Four passports and plane tickets.

The passport had a dark red cover; it was brand new, without a single scratch, and had a matte finish under the desk lamp.

"Brothers," he said, holding up his passport and waving it in the air, "we can go to the Middle East now."

"Once we get there, we'll eat and drink the finest food!!!"

……

The next morning, sunlight from Yangon streamed through the gaps in the hotel curtains, casting a thin golden line on the gray-white ceiling.

The four people carried their luggage and walked out of room 306.

A plump woman was sitting at the front desk of the Ruyi Hotel. She was wearing a floral tube skirt, her hair was pinned back with a hair clip, and she was eating a bowl of rice noodles. The sound of the rice noodles being slurped into her mouth was very loud.

Gao Fei walked over, placed the room key on the counter, and said "check out" in English.

The fat woman looked up at him, then at the three people behind him, and put the room key into the drawer.

Four poor bastards, too lazy to say more.

I asked them before if they wanted 98, but they didn't understand! (Do you even know what 98 is?)

Fuck!

What are you pretending for, men who come to Myanmar?

The four people walked out of the hotel.

The sunlight suddenly slammed down, making Gao Fei squint.

Gao Fei flagged down a taxi. The car was covered in rust and dents, and the rear bumper was tied with wire and was about to fall over.

"Airport!"

I had just gotten into the car when my phone rang.

He took it out and looked at Chen Zheng.

"Ah Zheng." He put the phone to his ear.

"Ready to board?"

"I just got into a taxi and we're heading to the airport."

"When will you arrive in Beirut?"

"Tomorrow at 3 PM, local time."

"Okay," Chen Zheng said on the other end. "I'll pick you up then. Be careful on the road."

"understood."

The phone hangs up.

Gao Fei put his phone back in his pocket and continued looking out the window. The taxi bounced along the bumpy road, and his head swayed with the car's movements.

We've arrived at Yangon International Airport.

Gao Fei took out a few kyats from his pocket, counted them, and handed them to the driver.

The driver took it, counted it, stuffed it into his pocket, grinned, and revealed a set of teeth stained red with betel nut.

The four people got out of the car, pulled their luggage out of the trunk, and walked into the terminal.

Gao Fei stood in the middle of the queue, clutching his passport, his eyes scanning every corner of the terminal, looking somewhat nervous!

After all, it's a fake passport.

Check-in, security check, boarding.

Everything went more smoothly than expected.

The moment the plane's wheels left the runway, Gao Fei felt his stomach suddenly sink.

He also knew…

Life is different now!

Gao Fei was actually quite uneasy, not because he didn't trust Chen Zheng, but because he was afraid of the unknown future.

If there were no other choice, who would willingly leave their hometown?

Just like novelists, if they weren't full of talent, who would want to write novels?

"It's not easy for anyone!"

Gao Fei took a deep breath, suppressed his thoughts, then pressed down the sunshade, closed his eyes, and began to rest.

Take a nap...

Make big money tomorrow!

……