Night and the Ship

Ten o'clock. East Port, Yacheng. When Ji Jue reached the entrance, he saw a car that had long been waiting there—a model he knew all too well: a Huanggua. Inside, someone was yawning lazily on the reclined seat. "Senior?" Ji Jue poked his head out the window of his Little Niuma. "What are you doing here?" "Just passing by. As if." Through the car windows, Ye Chun raised a hand and tossed a round object across. "Auntie told me to give this to you. Another loan." Guigong landed in his grip, and a familiar greeting sounded in his ear. "Thank you, Teacher." Ji Jue accepted it without ceremony, pocketing the sphere. Catching Ye Chun's 'And what about me?' look, he couldn't help but smile. "And thank you too, Senior." "You can never repay your senior's kindness. Keep that in mind, got it?" Ye Chun gave a lazy wave. "Alright, I'm heading home. If I stay up any later, I'll start losing hair again. Bosses who make people work overtime every single day are going to get hit by a car sooner or later." With that, she drove away into the distance. Ji Jue tossed Guigong in his palm, then clipped it back onto his keychain. [Alright, kid. No matter how big the mess, Big Bro's got your back!] "Bro Ball is the best. Guess I'll be counting on you, then!" Ji Jue chuckled and drove forward. From a distance, he spotted a guide waiting. Once the man verified his identity, he led him straight to a berth within the port area. A dark, silent freighter sat moored there, fully laden with shipping containers. Yet hardly any crew members were visible outside—only men with bulges under their clothes patrolling the perimeter. On the deck, someone looking through binoculars spotted Ji Jue from afar and turned back: "Tell Brother Ling that guy named Ji is here." Even before that, people had already moved to meet him. Yet someone else was faster. Just as Ji Jue stepped out of the car, he saw a familiar mop of yellow hair jumping and waving at him near the gangway: "Brother Ji?! Long time no see!" "It really has been a while." Ji Jue nodded. "Where's Brother Blondie making his fortune these days?" "Ah, just running errands for the boss." Blondie flashed an eager grin and waved him forward. "The boss told me to wait here and show you the way. Right up ahead." He glanced at the men approaching and lowered his voice: "Watch out, though. That out-of-town prick Ling Zhou definitely isn't up to any good. Brother Ji, be careful not to walk into his trap." "Thanks for the heads-up." Ji Jue followed Blondie onto the ship, meeting no resistance as they went straight inside. Yet contrary to the freighter's plain, weathered exterior, after turning a few corners, they pushed open a door right in what should have been the cargo bay stacked with containers. The interior was brilliantly lit and shockingly spacious, furnished with refined elegance. Beneath the glint of crystal chandeliers, everything seemed drowned in decadence. A sweet, heady fragrance drifted through the air. In the vast hall stretching out before them, countless patrons bustled about, gathered around row after row of grass-green gaming tables, attended by full complements of dealers and servers. "This is a casino boat run over from the Thousand Islands to skim grease off the Federation. Fuck their mothers, these dogs rake in billions every year with just a few ships like this, dammit," Blondie explained in a hushed tone, his words laced with curses and indignation, his envy practically dripping from every syllable. "If a brawl breaks out this time, I'm gonna lead the boys to seize this whole damn boat. If the boss throws just a couple of tables my way, I'll be set for life!" "Just focus on doing good work for your boss," Ji Jue said, shaking his head. "Given how much he trusts you, what are a couple of tables?" To be fair, for a key hand like Blondie, who had proven both loyalty and capability, Chen Xingzhou was bound to nurture him. Unfortunately, while Blondie had plenty going for him, he lacked brains; otherwise, he would have been dispatched to run a territory of his own long ago. Hearing this, Blondie grinned from ear to ear. "Ain't that the truth! The boss trusts me the most!" Ji Jue patted his shoulder in encouragement and warning. Nearby, someone cast a cold glare their way. "This way, please, Mr. Ji." A floor manager stepped up with a practiced smile. "The distinguished guests have all arrived. They are waiting for you upstairs." The upper level was a separate section, though it looked like an even more opulent VIP lounge. At the moment, there wasn't a single gambler in sight. Instead, the seats were entirely filled. Among them was Chen Xingzhou, who had already arrived, along with a gathering of people Ji Jue either recognized or didn't. Most were elderly men and women, sitting expressionless and rigid as clay idols or carved wood, without so much as a whisper passing between them. The moment they stepped in, even Blondie reined in his brashness, holding his breath as he quietly fell in behind Chen Xingzhou. What surprised Ji Jue even more was that, as the host of the peace banquet, Chen Xingzhou wasn't sitting in the head seat! Right in the center of the long table, the head seat was occupied by nothing more than an ordinary white plastic chair. A ubiquitous design, a classic that had swept the globe in the previous century—its unmatched practicality, ergonomics, and cheap production had made it an everyday fixture found everywhere, even in late-night roadside food stalls. Yet here and now, not a single soul dared sit on it. No one even dared look up at it for more than a second, their eyes cast downward in solemn silence. At Ji Jue's arrival, Chen Xingzhou merely offered a slight nod before looking away. Only after Ji Jue took another seat did exaggerated laughter ring out from beyond the doors—a hollow, indifferent laugh that couldn't even be bothered to sound convincing. "Ah, my apologies, my apologies! Held up by business, I'm late. Please don't take offense, everyone." A mixed-race man with blond hair walked through the doors. He was not old—not even thirty—yet wherever he passed, heads bowed submissively, murmuring respectful greetings: "Good evening, Mr. Ling." Yet arrogant as Ling Zhou was, the moment he stepped inside and caught sight of that empty chair, his voice unconsciously dropped, and a dark shadow crept into his smile. "Impressive, Uncle Chen. You even brought out the Chief's seat." He stopped in front of the plastic chair and asked across it, "We're just sharing a drink and making friends. Was there really a need to be so dramatic?" "If we're going to talk, we should naturally take it seriously, shouldn't we?" Chen Xingzhou smiled faintly. "This concerns two Wild Gatherings—Yacheng and Gray Port. Having the Chief's seat bear witness makes everything much firmer. If anything, I was worried it wouldn't be formal enough." "As expected of the Dragon Head. Truly seasoned and thorough." Ling Zhou stared at him for a long moment. "Consider me enlightened." Chen Xingzhou nodded. "Don't mind us old fossils. Since you young men are willing to show some face and talk, I'll leave the rest to you." Ling Zhou kept his smile, though it grew noticeably sour. *Don't mind you? You dragged the fucking Chief's seat out here, and you tell me not to mind? Look at who's sitting in this room—every elder of standing in the whole damn Haizhou is here, plus some from the neighboring Thousand Islands... You called in this entire council of old bastards just to pressure me, didn't you?* "And this must be Mr. Ji?" He turned to look at Ji Jue. "A fine figure of a man indeed. Respect, respect." Expressionless, Ji Jue glanced at the outstretched hand, making no move to take it. "Mr. Ling is quite the figure himself. My respects as well." Ji Jue gave a soft sigh, staring into the man's smile. "You went through all this trouble to drag me here. You might as well tell me why." "Now, Mr. Ji, you make it sound so serious." Ling Zhou gave a breezy laugh, pulled up a chair, and sat down directly across from Ji Jue, paying no heed to the eyesore of old fogies. "As the saying goes, those living by the mountain live off the mountain, and those by the water live off the water. The brothers in Gray Port rely on maritime shipping to scrape by. We don't claim to be rolling in wealth, just looking to earn enough to keep ourselves fed. But Boss Ji, your business is booming. Moving cargo back and forth these past days without so much as saying hello... wouldn't you say that's a bit improper?" "And this isn't wealthy enough?" Ji Jue looked up, glancing around at the intoxicating decadence of the casino, then tapped the table. "Phoebe zhennan. This single table is worth more than my entire net worth. Without connections in the Federation, shipping a few parts over from the Thousand Islands can hardly be an eyesore to Mr. Ling, can it? Or is some petty schemer pulling strings behind the scenes?" "Now why would you say that?" Ling Zhou shook his head with an unconcerned grin. "At home you rely on your parents; out in the world you rely on friends. Another friend means another path. I just wanted to make friends with you, that's all." Ji Jue stared at him indifferently. He suddenly felt a twinge of drowsiness, almost wanting to yawn. This dull, pointless banter held zero substance. "Where is he?" he asked bluntly. "I came all the way here. Where's my man?" "What man?" Ling Zhou feigned confusion, then looked enlightened, his smile widening as he smacked his forehead. "Right, that guy! Oh, look at my memory!" He turned toward the men behind him. "What are you standing around for? Bring Mr. Ji's man in." Messy footsteps sounded outside. Moments later, two men entered through the door, their white shirts splattered with blood. Dragged between them was a mangled figure, clinging to his last breath. He was thrown onto the floor, coughing violently, convulsing in choked groans. Catching sight of Ji Jue, he froze, then desperately tried to push himself up, wanting to speak. But the man beside him kicked him unceremoniously back to the ground. Yan Jian went limp, robbed of all strength, gasping for air. Only his blood-rimmed eyes remained fixed on Ji Jue, crimson tears trickling down his face. "Don't worry, he's still alive." Ling Zhou reached out, casually grabbed Yan Jian by the hair, dragged him up, and slammed his head down onto the table. "See? Full of life. In Gray Port, when we do business, we believe that even if the deal falls through, courtesy remains." Ji Jue didn't speak. He just looked into Yan Jian's eyes. In the silence, Ling Zhou crooked a finger. A subordinate promptly set down a thick stack of documents and contracts, a towering pile. "Years ago, Director Xu of your company got a little carried away at our tables—played a bit too big. Adding it all up... roughly four or five hundred million. Not an astronomical sum." He spoke slowly: "Every debt has its debtor. With such a massive pile of bad debt, I had no way to explain it to my superiors. I had no choice but to resort to this poor tactic, all just to secure a meeting with Mr. Ji." "Is it really that simple?" Ji Jue finally shifted his gaze from Yan Jian to Ling Zhou, a sudden smile breaking across his face. Bright and sunny, without a trace of gloom. "Rest assured, we wouldn't dream of using this to make things difficult for you." Ling Zhou bared his teeth, like a ravenous predator unable to hold back any longer. "All it takes is a word from Mr. Ji, and our old debts will be wiped clean! What's more, I've pooled together some cash myself—two hundred million, along with a handsome gift, as my personal investment in Boss Ji's business." He stared straight at Ji Jue, dripping with enthusiasm: "Money's meant to be made together, isn't it?" Ji Jue didn't answer. He just looked at him. For a long time, he regarded him as one would an utterly clueless fool. Only when Ling Zhou's smile could no longer hold, turning cold and collapsing into a vicious, ragged ruin, did Ji Jue's puzzled voice finally break the silence: "Just you?"