Chapter 28: Night Raid

Surat Thani Province, Banni City.

Today is Buddha Day.

The entrance to the Pagoda Temple is thronged with people. Since early morning, countless devotees have arrived, bearing fresh flowers and fruits as offerings. Inside the temple, the air is thick with incense. Amidst the curling smoke, the Great Master sits high upon the Buddhist altar, while the followers prostrate themselves on the ground. Some are peaceful, others greedy.

In the backyard, a separate chamber serves as a quiet room reserved for distinguished guests. A woman in a long white dress kneels before the Buddha, her expression one of deep piety. In the incense burner, three red-tipped incense sticks burn silently. A faint floral scent drifts out with the wisps of smoke, filling the entire room.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the door.

The woman does not stir; her red lips part slightly. "What is it?"

"News from Ganna City—someone claims to have seen those Chinese men three days ago!"

As soon as the words fall, the woman snaps her eyes open. A fierce glint flashes through her phoenix eyes. She slowly lifts her gaze toward the compassionate Buddha above, a faint smile curling the corner of her lips. "It seems the Buddha has manifested his presence."

...

Night falls.

The surface of the Ya River on the outskirts of Ganna City has long since grown quiet. Moonlight spills onto the calm river, casting a cold, clear luster. On the bank, scattered wooden cabins sit hidden within the dense woods, their dim lights flickering faintly.

In a small room, Zhong Yuan and his two companions are gathered around a small wooden table, eating dinner. Suddenly, the phone lying on the table beside Zhong Yuan buzzes. He picks it up, glances at the screen, and raises an eyebrow.

"Dazi..." Zhong Yuan calls out to Zhong Da, then hands him the phone. Zhong Da takes it, bewildered, but his expression darkens the moment his eyes land on the message.

Xiao Hua, sitting nearby, looks from Zhong Yuan to Zhong Da, hesitating before asking in a low voice, "What happened?"

Zhong Yuan answers, "Dong Cuo intends to stay at the plantation and work under the manager there from now on!"

Xiao Hua is stunned by the news.

Zhong Da’s face is grim. He sets the phone down and says, "I'll call him and ask." He stands up, ready to walk out.

Zhong Yuan calls him back. "What are you going to ask him?"

Zhong Da freezes.

Zhong Yuan sighs helplessly. "That plantation belongs to a friend of mine. While that manager surely has his own motives for keeping Dong Cuo, he is unlikely to harm him. If he wants to stay, let him stay. At least it’s better than him going off to find his relatives, isn't it?"

Zhong Da stares at Zhong Yuan, wanting to speak but holding back.

"I know, you want him to return to the country. But he isn't your son; he’s a grown man. If he doesn't want to go, you can't force him!" Zhong Yuan adds.

Zhong Da presses his lips together, the stubbornness in his eyes clear. Zhong Yuan doesn't bother trying to persuade him further. After standing there for a moment, Zhong Da turns and walks out.

Zhong Yuan sighs and gestures to Xiao Hua. Xiao Hua understands and gets up to follow him.

Zhong Yuan knows why Zhong Da is so stubborn. Back in the Northwest, Dong Cuo’s life was actually quite decent; he ran a small shop, and the business was stable enough to cover his daily expenses. But because of one phone call from Zhong Da, he left everything behind to come here. Now, instead of a better life, he is being hunted and plagued by trouble. Even though Dong Cuo is temporarily safe, the self-reproach in Zhong Da’s heart has never ceased.

Moreover, although they have temporarily shaken off the Buddha Hand Gang, this matter is far from over. As long as they remain within the borders of South Thailand, the danger will never truly dissipate. This means that if Dong Cuo stays at the plantation for too long, there is no guarantee that word won't reach the Buddha Hand Gang.

Zhong Da is uneasy about leaving him there, yet he cannot stay with him forever, nor can he abandon him entirely. But as Zhong Yuan said, Dong Cuo is an adult; no one can make decisions for him but himself. Zhong Da isn't unaware of this; he is simply too weighed down by guilt to let go. This is something Zhong Yuan cannot talk him out of—he must eventually come to terms with it himself.

Zhong Yuan pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a slow drag.

Still, what exactly is Manager Wu’s intention in keeping Dong Cuo? Before asking for help, Zhong Yuan had clearly stated the nature of their feud with the Buddha Hand Gang. Even if Manager Wu didn't know the full details, he must have realized that Dong Cuo was walking into a nest of trouble. Why, then, would he risk it?

Above, an old-fashioned glass lightbulb hangs from the rafters, emitting a buzzing sound. Tiny insects circle around it tirelessly.

Suddenly, a rotten floorboard outside the door creaks.

Smoke curls upward, and Zhong Yuan, who had been looking down, suddenly lifts his eyes.

What is meant to come cannot be avoided.

A gunshot rings out sharply. The dilapidated wooden door shatters instantly as a bullet tears through it, heading straight into the room.

The light suddenly goes out.

The surroundings are plunged into total, suffocating darkness. The two figures outside holding guns pause for a moment, then fire several more shots before stopping. One of them, gun in hand, begins to step inside, while the other stays behind to cover him.

The room is silent, as if there are no living things left besides the insects.

But the moment the man steps fully into the room, a flash of cold light cuts through the darkness, sinking into his chest.

A surge of agonizing pain sweeps through his body. Instinctively, he looks down to see a gleaming silver butterfly knife buried deep in his chest.

At that very moment—

Bang!

A gunshot rings out again, but it does not come from his partner behind him; it comes from the hellish darkness ahead. A rush of air whistles past his ear, followed by a muffled grunt from behind.

Bang!

Another shot.

This time, the bullet finds its mark. A searing pain flashes through him, and then, all sensation fades.

Silence descends once more. Time drifts by in stillness.

About two or three minutes later, a burst of gunfire erupts outside.

Cold moonlight pierces through the tangled branches into the dark woods. In the faint light, muzzle flashes flicker, and a hail of bullets sweeps out, shredding the waist-high grass ahead.

Grass clippings fly everywhere, yet there is no sign of anyone.

The shooter frowns, sensing something is wrong. His wary gaze sweeps the surroundings, searching for the slightest trace.

Just then, a slight movement comes from behind a tree to his front left. Without hesitation, he whips his gun around, the muzzle erupting in a flash of flame as bullets spray forth.

But at that exact moment, a dark shadow drops from above, pulling him violently to the ground.

His gun swings wildly across the sky, shattering the moonlight.

His vision fades to black, and then, he knows nothing more.