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

Chapter 64 "The Friendship of Panga"?

Where can men go at night?

It's all mahjong and dance halls, what else can you do but study philosophy?

Of course, you can also learn English, hehehe—you have to learn English!

The lights in the bathhouse were dimmed to a warm, yellowish hue, and the air was filled with the scent of essential oils.

Chen Zheng lay on the massage bed, his face buried in the pillow. A young woman wearing black stockings stood on his back, her footwork light, each step landing on acupoints, the pressure penetrating through the muscle layers and reaching deep into the bones, a feeling of soreness mixed with an indescribable comfort.

The woman looked to be in her late twenties. Her hair was loosely tied back with a wooden hairpin, with a few stray strands hanging down beside her ears, swaying gently with the rhythm of her body. Adults like young women. An 18-year-old may be young, but she doesn't give you any emotional connection. If she chats with you occasionally, it's either asking for a gift or bringing one.

Tsk tsk tsk—(I like women in their thirties.)

On the massage bed next to him, Li Yang lay sprawled out, his face buried in the pillow, uttering a series of indistinct groans that rose and fell with a rhythm that stirred the imagination.

"Ah, yes, yes, right here—oh my—so comfortable!"

The young girl massaging his back finally couldn't hold back any longer. Her face turned red from the roots of her neck to the tips of her ears. In the end, she couldn't help but whisper, "Sir—could you—could you lower your voice a little? We're investigating now, and I'm afraid someone outside might hear us and report us—"

Li Yang's voice abruptly stopped.

He pulled his face out of the pillow, turned to look at the girl behind him whose face was as red as a boiled shrimp, paused for a full two seconds, and then said, "No—you mean I'm enjoying it, but I have to hold back, like an immoral husband?"

? ? ? ? ?

Wang Defa~

The young girl opened her mouth, blushing slightly. She looked very young and had just started working. She didn't know what to say when she encountered such a big hooligan.

On another bed, Assam lay on his back, and a middle-aged woman in the same work clothes was massaging his shoulders. Her technique was skillful and her strength was steady; she was clearly a veteran who had been doing this for many years.

He turned his head and, speaking in heavily accented Northeastern Chinese, sneered at Li Yang, "Can you fucking stop yelling? It sounds like you're slaughtering a pig. Anyone who didn't know better would think something illegal or disorderly was going on in there."

"I call this a genuine expression of emotion!"

The woman massaging Assam continued her massage, smiling as she said, "Sir, your Chinese is excellent."

Assam chuckled, his eyes closed, looking rather pretentious, much like Jiahao in style.

Just then, the phone on the bedside table suddenly vibrated.

Buzzing buzzing buzzing—

The screen lit up, its brightness particularly glaring under the dim yellow light.

Li Yang was relaxing when he heard the noise. He lazily reached out a hand, grabbed his phone from the bedside table, squinted at the screen, and then his eyebrows shot up. "Brother Chen, an unfamiliar local number."

"Could it be that Boss Huang?"

Upon hearing this, Chen Zheng raised his eyebrows slightly and waved behind him, signaling the woman who was stepping on his back to stop. The woman gracefully got off his back, her bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. She stepped aside and stood with her hands at her sides.

That's a great service attitude.

Chen Zheng sat up from the massage bed, his bare back tingling with goosebumps in the cool air from the air conditioner.

He stretched his neck, making two cracking sounds, then reached for the phone, swiped his thumb across the screen, and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello, who is this?"

A greeting came from the other end of the phone: "Boss Diao, I hope I didn't disturb your rest?"

"Boss Huang? Hello, hello, no problem, I'm getting a massage right now."

The owner of the restaurant across from me, Mr. Huang, asked in a very natural and familiar tone, "Are you free later? Want to grab a late-night snack together?"

Chen Zheng wanted to laugh when he heard him say that.

When he was at the stall, his serious demeanor made people think he was truly "law-abiding".

It seems that a 70% premium is still quite tempting.

Who would turn down money?

"Okay, tell me the location, and I'll be right there."

After giving an address, Boss Huang said, "Then I'll wait for you here."

After hanging up the phone, Chen Zheng stood up from the massage bed.

"Come on, someone's treating us to a late-night snack."

The three of them went to the changing room to change their clothes and then went to the front desk to pay.

As I stepped out of the bathhouse, a night breeze rushed towards me, carrying a damp smell mixed with the fumes of car exhaust and the smoke from roadside barbecue stalls.

This is a unique flavor of nighttime in southern Chinese cities, except for those in Zhejiang. After 10 p.m., there's not much nightlife except in certain places.

The van turned out of the bathhouse parking lot and merged into the traffic flow on Shennan Avenue.

The roads in Futian are much wider than those in Huaqiangbei. The office buildings on both sides are sparsely lit, and most companies have already closed for the day. Only a few windows are still lit, and I wonder which unlucky person is working overtime.

Following Boss Huang's address, the car stopped in front of an inconspicuous building.

From the outside, it looks like an ordinary commercial building with beige exterior bricks, a shiny glass door on the first floor, and no sign above the entrance.

Boss Huang stood at the door, his hair styled with hair gel and combed neatly, a stark contrast to his casual demeanor at the stall that afternoon. Upon seeing Chen Zheng, a smile immediately spread across his face, and he took two steps forward, extending his hand.

Actually, there's some humor in this.

After returning home, Mr. Huang called the stall owner and told him that business was possible, but he should be careful not to lose control and get implicated.

Then, as I was hanging up, I casually asked, "How big is this order?"

The boss didn't dare say much, just smiled vaguely and said, "Several million a year—"

Boss Huang immediately felt envious.

Oh shit!

Millions?

Those concerns were immediately discarded.

They had a certain "friendship between Pan and Ga" feel to them.

"Boss Diao! Come in, come in, please come in."

Chen Zheng grasped his hand and shook it with a smile: "Boss Huang, this place is quite secluded."

Boss Huang chuckled twice. "This place is a very nice club."

After walking through a short corridor, you see a dark red carpet on the floor, several oil paintings hanging on the walls, and a half-person-high blue and white porcelain vase at the corner of the corridor. The vase is painted with landscapes and figures, and a scroll is inserted into its mouth.

This place doesn't look like a restaurant; it looks like a museum.

At the end of the corridor was a dark wooden door. Boss Huang pushed the door open, stepped aside, and gestured for him to enter.

-

The private room wasn't large, but it was very exquisite.

In the very center is a round mahogany table, covered with a dark red tablecloth that hangs down to the edge of the table, with subtle patterns embroidered along the edges.

On the table was a large blue-and-white porcelain plate with a fish lying on it. It was a large, golden yellow croaker with several cuts on its body. It was steamed to perfection, and the fish meat was slightly turned up, revealing snow-white garlic-like flesh. It was sprinkled with shredded scallions and red peppers, and drizzled with soy sauce. The aroma was irresistible.

Next to the fish was a plate of steamed king crab, with the crab legs neatly arranged and the shells glistening red, accompanied by a dish of ginger and vinegar sauce.

There were also individual bowls of stew, served in white porcelain covered bowls with the lids half-open, revealing fish maw and conch inside. The broth was clear and had a faint seafood aroma.

Two bottles of Maozi (a type of Chinese liquor) stood in the corner of the table. They were white porcelain bottles with red labels, and the trademarks read "Flying Maozi." Next to them was an unopened pack of Jiuzhizun cigarettes.

"Boss Huang, your late-night snack is quite generous."

Boss Huang pulled out a chair, gestured for Chen Zheng to sit down, and then gestured for Li Yang and Assam to sit down as well, before sitting down next to Chen Zheng himself.

He reached out and picked up the bottle of Maotai, unscrewed the cap, and filled the glass in front of Chen Zheng. As the liquor poured into the glass, the aroma of the Maotai-flavored liquor immediately spread out, mellow, rich, and not pungent.

"Boss Diao, let's eat first, let's eat first."

Chen Zheng reached out to stop him from pouring the wine, and shook his head with a smile: "Boss Huang, I'm not at ease with this kind of fuss. We're both people with important business to attend to. Let's talk business first, and then we can drink as much as we want."

Boss Huang laughed and said, "Boss Diao, since you put it that way, I won't beat around the bush with you."

"I can handle those things you mentioned this afternoon, but regarding the price, will you still charge the 70% premium you mentioned?"

Li Yang glanced at Assam and smiled, but the latter waved his hand to signal him not to talk nonsense.

"Of course, no problem. But let me make this clear: you have to transport it to Hong Kong airport for me. If anything happens before it's on the plane, I won't pay you a single penny. And if something happens after it's in the cargo hold, that's none of your business."

Boss Huang nodded vigorously, "That's how it should be!"

That's just how delivery services are; there's nothing you can do about it.

Crowdsourcing, we don't care if you live or die~

"Thanks, Boss Diao! I'll drink it all. We're so close, bottoms up!"

Boss Huang picked up his wine cup, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp, the wine spilling out a thin line from the rim of the cup.

"Great!" Chen Zheng clapped with a smile. "Boss Huang has a great capacity for alcohol!"

"When you get old, what does a cup of wine from your youth matter?"

Boss Huang put down his wine cup, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face was already red, red from the base of his neck all the way to his forehead, reflecting the oil under the dim light of the private room.

He reached out and grabbed the straw from the table, then went to pour wine for Chen Zheng.

Chen Zheng laughed and said, "Boss Huang, let's eat first. I drank two glasses on an empty stomach and I'm already tipsy."

"Alright, alright, let's eat."

Boss Huang put down the wine bottle, picked up the serving chopsticks, took a piece of steamed yellow croaker belly meat, and placed it on the small plate in front of Chen Zheng. "Boss Diao, try this. This fish was just transported from Nan'ao this afternoon. It's wild, not farmed. Look at this meat, it's like garlic cloves."

Chen Zheng thanked him, picked up the piece of fish with his chopsticks, dipped it in soy sauce, and put it in his mouth.

The fish is tender and smooth, almost requiring no chewing; it melts on the tongue with a touch, releasing a sweet and fresh flavor that fills the mouth, accompanied by the savory aroma of scallions and soy sauce. The soy sauce is perfectly seasoned, neither too salty nor too bland, without overpowering the natural freshness of the fish.

He swallowed and nodded: "Good fish."

"Then have another piece of this."

Boss Huang picked up another piece of king crab leg meat. The crab leg had already been cut open with scissors, revealing the white meat inside, which was as thick as a baby's arm. He placed it on Chen Zheng's plate, saying, "It's steamed with garlic and vermicelli. Look at these vermicelli; they've soaked up all the crab juice."

Chen Zheng picked up some crab meat with his chopsticks. The vermicelli was wrapped around the crab meat, and the aroma of minced garlic wafted up. He took a bite, and the crab meat was firm and chewy, sweet and fresh with the caramelized aroma of garlic. The vermicelli had soaked up the crab juice, making it slippery. One bite filled his mouth with the taste of seafood.

"Hmm, this is good too." Chen Zheng nodded as he chewed.

"Hehe, we Cantonese people know how to eat and enjoy life. Isn't life all about eating and having three meals a day?" Boss Huang said with a smile.

Li Yang was already engrossed in his work, gnawing on king crab legs until his hands were covered in oil, too busy eating to speak, his cheeks puffed out like a hamster's. Assam, on the other hand, was more refined, using chopsticks to carefully remove the crab meat, dipping it in ginger and vinegar sauce, chewing slowly and occasionally taking a small sip from his wine glass.

After a few more drinks, the atmosphere became even more enjoyable.

"Boss Diao."

"I do have a few good things on me, I wonder if you want them?"

「什幺好东西？难道是XG—50？还是D51K—400？ZKW—200深孔钻床？1000mm光学平直度检查仪也行啊。」

Boss Huang's hand, which had just picked up a wine glass, froze in mid-air. His expression stiffened for a moment, and then he hurriedly waved his hand, shaking his fingers like a rattle: "No, no, oh dear, Boss Diao, don't scare me. Those things are specially supplied, used by military factories. How could a small businessman like me get them? Even if you gave me a hundred lives, I wouldn't dare touch that stuff."

All of the above items are strictly prohibited from being sold by private individuals.

Many people may not know what a 1000mm optical flatness inspector does. Let's put it another way: it's used for 20mm, 25mm, and 30mm chain shot...

Machine guns, such as the machine guns of infantry fighting vehicles, use this kind of thing.

They specially supply state-owned enterprises—

Looking at its research and development institutions reveals the complex relationships involved.

"I don't have that kind of extraordinary ability."

He put down his wine glass, took a wet wipe from the table and wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead, then chuckled dryly twice.

"Although I don't have an XG-50,"

He lowered his voice, "But I have two Y41-100 C-type single-arm hydraulic presses, forged in Hefei, with 100 tons of pressure and a 500-meter stroke. The worktable is big enough. Do you want one?"

Chen Zheng's brow twitched slightly.

Y41—100.

C-type single-arm hydraulic press, 100 tons of pressure.

Simply put, it has two functions: straightening and pressing!

(Nickname: "The All-Purpose Laborer of the Underground Arsenal")

"How much?"

"Both are second-hand, but they'll definitely work." Boss Huang held up one finger. "One costs 10, so two would cost 20."

Chen Zheng paused for a moment as he picked up some food.

"I'll take both of them."

Chen Zheng put down his chopsticks, picked up his wine glass, and raised it to Boss Huang, "No problem."

1

Boss Huang's eyes lit up immediately, and the flesh on his cheeks lifted up.

He quickly picked up his wine glass and clinked it against Chen Zheng's; the crisp sound of the glasses colliding was particularly clear in the private room.

He was already fed up with those two things; there were no customers who wanted them. Domestic customers didn't lack them—they sold directly from the factory and they were damn cheap.

Sell ​​to neighboring Southeast Asia?

The monkey cheated, and the white elephant was shameless; the transportation fee wasn't even enough.

I've really run into a sucker today!

"A big boss is a big boss, so straightforward!"

Boss Huang tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp, the cup turned upside down, not a drop left. After finishing, he put the cup on the table, grinned, and revealed his teeth, which were a little yellow from smoking.

The meal lasted until after 10 p.m.

Chen Zheng was being held on either side by Assam and Li Yang. He was mumbling something incoherently, and it was hard to understand what he was saying. Occasionally, a few words would pop out—"There's a problem," "Yes, yes," "Drink again, drink again"—in a mix of Cantonese and Mandarin, a jumbled mess, and it was unclear who he had learned it from.

Boss Huang wasn't much better off; his face was as red as Guan Yu's, and two buttons on his collar were undone, revealing his reddened skin underneath.

He leaned against the doorframe with one hand and gestured with the other in the air, looking at Chen Zheng with hazy, drunken eyes, as if he were looking at a long-lost brother who had suddenly reappeared.

"Boss Diao—Boss Diao, slow down!" His tongue was a little thick, and his speech was slurred. "Let me tell you—I've decided to be your friend—never again when you come to Futian, call me—I'll arrange—arrange things for you—"

Chen Zheng was helped to the side of the van. Li Yang freed one hand to open the car door, and Assam, supporting Chen Zheng's back, carefully shoved him into the car.

Chen Zheng raised his head, his drunken eyes looking at Boss Huang, and reached out his hand.

Boss Huang quickly grasped it.

Anyone who didn't know better would think they were sworn brothers.

"Boss Huang—"

"Thank you so much, you've really helped me a lot — next time you come to Dubai, just give me a call and I'll make the arrangements — I'll make the arrangements —"

Boss Huang patted Chen Zheng's hand with his other hand and laughed, "Okay, okay, definitely, Boss Diao, drive carefully."

"Yes, yes—" Chen Zheng nodded, his eyes already unfocused.

Assam got into the car from the other side, sat next to Chen Zheng, and pulled over to fasten the seatbelt for him.

Li Yang closed the car door, walked around to the driver's side, said a few words to the designated driver, and then got into the passenger seat.

Mr. Huang stood at the entrance of the club, swaying slightly, watching the taillights of the black van merge into the traffic on Shennan Avenue.

He stood for a while, then slowly straightened up.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a packet of Five Leaf God cigarettes, took one out and put it in his mouth. He flicked the lighter twice before it lit, and the flame danced a few times in the night wind.

"Damn." He exhaled the smoke, shook his head, and cursed to himself, "That fake foreigner can really drink."

He put the cigarette in his mouth, straightened his wind-blown collar, turned around, and walked back up the steps to the clubhouse entrance. Before pushing the door open, he paused and glanced back in the direction the van had disappeared.

"Dubai—" he muttered, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

On Shennan Avenue, a black minivan drives smoothly through the traffic.

The designated driver was a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a dark blue vest. He held the steering wheel properly with both hands, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He drove the car at a moderate speed, steadily and smoothly.

The car stereo was playing very soothing music.

The car turned at an intersection and entered Binhe Avenue.

Chen Zheng suddenly sat up straight.

He sprang up from the back of his seat, showing no trace of drunkenness.

Li Yang, who was in the front passenger seat, turned around with his mouth agape, his eyes wide open, and his expression as if he had seen a ghost.

"Brother Chen—you—you're not drunk?"

"If you don't have any acting skills, won't you just get taken advantage of?"

Chen Zheng lit a cigarette, exhaled a puff of stale air, and squinted.

Li Yang glanced in the rearview mirror—

Damn it! They're all actors!

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