The Way of Restraint

Chapter 116: Using the Past for the Present

Su Jie listened to Zhang Jinchuan’s words, and once again he felt as if he were dreaming.

They were still just high school seniors, supposed to be preparing intensively for the college entrance exams. His classmates back home were buried in study sessions, practice tests, and mock exams. Yet here he was, in a foreign land torn by war, having already braved bullets and near-death encounters. Now he was even strategizing for a warlord leader, unmasking traitors, and helping to quell a rebellion.

It gave him the feeling of living inside history itself.

Whenever he read history, he would marvel: at seventeen, Huo Qubing had already led eight hundred cavalrymen on a long expedition hundreds of miles deep, slaughtering thousands of enemies and capturing many of their leaders.

A young hero, the pride of the army—he had been Su Jie’s age.

And Xin Qiji, the great poet, at twenty-one had led just fifty men in a daring raid on an enemy encampment of tens of thousands, captured a traitor alive, and ridden away unscathed. These were living, breathing events—not fiction.

His thoughts flashed by like lightning before he returned to the present. He looked at Zhang Jinchuan and said, “Now, all we can do is wait. Let’s hope Fuya succeeds—otherwise, we’ll be in real trouble.”

“There’s never a hundred percent certainty in anything. Do all you can, leave the rest to fate. That’s how great decisions have always been made throughout history,” Zhang Manman replied, indifferent to success or failure. “This plan is solid. Looks like I was right to seek out the two of you. Zhang Jinchuan, you’re certainly holding the Feng family in check—but really, the credit this time goes to Su Jie. If he hadn’t released that Gale, we wouldn’t have had the foundation for this plan at all. What do you say? Shouldn’t you share some of your sixty percent cut with him?”

“Business is business,” Zhang Jinchuan quickly said. “We signed a contract before coming here. We should still honor that. But as long as Su Jie agrees to join my company afterward, we can renegotiate terms.”

Su Jie, seeing how Zhang Jinchuan refused to budge an inch, realized this man was not someone guided by sentiment but by his core interests. He could cooperate with him, but not entrust him as a true brother-in-arms.

He too had his own way of reading people.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside.

The three of them fell silent.

Gale entered. “My father has settled the matter. He will see you now. Come with me.”

Su Jie stood, and the three followed Gale through the long military camp to the manor gates. Soldiers stepped forward, frisked them, and confiscated their weapons and knives before letting them inside.

The manor was simple—trees planted without trimming or ornament—but the ground was spotless, swept until it gleamed. The stark neatness left a strong impression.

Soldiers stood guard everywhere, watching the three with hawk-like eyes.

Inside was a hall for handling affairs. At a large table sat a dark-skinned, middle-aged man in uniform, missing an ear, with scars from bullet wounds across his head. His sharp gaze fixed on Su Jie and the others like a predator eyeing prey.

Yet around his neck hung a heavy gold chain; on his fingers, gemstone-studded gold rings, several on each hand; and on his wrist, a gold watch. He looked for all the world like a vulgar nouveau riche.

Back home, not even the gaudiest coal barons wore jewelry like that anymore.

Su Jie didn’t laugh. He understood: this man wore such valuables so he could flee at a moment’s notice if things went wrong. In a land this unstable, even the most powerful could be overthrown at any time. When chaos struck, there was often no chance to carry away wealth—better to keep it on one’s body, ready to pawn or barter for survival, perhaps even for a comeback.

“Father, they’re here,” Gale said to the man.

Clearly, this was the local warlord—General Awasi.

“About yesterday’s attack on you by my son—I apologize,” Awasi said. “And you must be Zhang Manman, daughter of Instructor Zhang? In my youth, I trained at the Honey Badger Camp for a time. I could even be considered one of your father’s students. Without that period, I would never have achieved what I have today.”

“General, we came today to—” Zhang Manman began, steering the talk to business.

But Awasi waved a hand. “By our laws, that shipment was indeed subject to seizure. Everything I did followed proper procedures.”

Hearing this, Su Jie knew Awasi would not be easy to deal with. He wasn’t about to let go of such a fat prize.

Meanwhile—

In a medical ward not far from the camp, “Gray Wolf” lay on a bed, eyes open but body immobile. His lower half was completely paralyzed, incapable even of basic bodily functions. That single strike from Su Jie’s “hoe-handle snapping branch” move had shattered his spine.

Hatred blazed in Gray Wolf’s eyes.

Beside him stood a man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, in camouflage uniform. He wasn’t bulky, but under the yellow-brown camo was a body of steel-like muscle, radiating a sense of indestructibility, as if even blades couldn’t cut him. His hands were long and thick, the skin of his fingers calloused like scales from endless combat training.

This was “Hungry Wolf.”

“Gray Wolf, your spine is broken. Medical care here will never heal you. You’ll need advanced treatment in the U.S., costing at least a million dollars to recover,” Hungry Wolf said. “Our plan has failed. Who could’ve imagined that kid would befriend Gale? Not only did we fail, Awasi is now suspicious of us.”

“What should we do now?” Gray Wolf rasped. “Fortunately, Bata is ours. At this point, we can only burn the boats behind us—set the plan in motion directly. Once it succeeds, those three brats will be trapped like fish in a barrel, completely annihilated. If I don’t avenge this, I’m no man.”

“Then so be it,” Hungry Wolf said. “Awasi summoned his son back from abroad to groom him as successor. Now Bata has lost his trust—it’s time to strike. I’ll persuade him—”

Suddenly, Hungry Wolf’s face changed. He shrank back and vanished into the ceiling with rodent-like agility, rustling away until he was gone.

Moments later, footsteps thundered. Fuya burst in, frowned at the sight of Gray Wolf on the bed, and snapped, “Search! And carry out the plan immediately.”

Back at the manor, Zhang Manman fell silent, trying to think of a way to persuade Awasi, all while waiting for Fuya to make her move.

“I greatly respect Instructor Zhang. But business is business, law is law,” General Awasi said in fluent English. “Still, if you want me to release the shipment, it’s not impossible—as long as—”

Suddenly, gunfire erupted outside.

He leapt up. “Guards! Guards! What’s happening?”

Like a startled hare, he darted into a corner, barking orders. Clearly, he’d faced such crises often enough to make these reflexes second nature.

Guards stormed in and surrounded Su Jie and the others at gunpoint.

For the second time, Su Jie stared down gun barrels—but this time he felt no panic. His mind was cold and clear.

A guard leader rushed in, shouting in the local tongue: “General, it’s Bata—he’s revolting!”

“What? Bata revolting?” Awasi strode out of the corner, furious. “Where’s Fuya? What’s going on? Bata dares betray me? I already suspected after yesterday. I should’ve investigated immediately! And now he dares strike first—he’s courting death!”

He bellowed in rage.

Su Jie only caught a few words—the general was speaking too fast in his fury.

Soon Fuya strode in, face alight with triumph. “General, after yesterday, I investigated Gray Wolf and Hungry Wolf, interrogated them, and discovered they colluded with Bata to kill Gale. I was preparing to report to you and stop his plot, but just now Bata led his guards and fled the camp.”

“Damn it! Damn it!” Awasi roared. “He dared plot against my son! After him! To the command post!”

Furious, he stormed out to rally his troops. To Fuya, he barked, “Stay here and host our three guests. Gale, with me!” He clearly didn’t trust leaving his son behind.

“Everything went smoothly,” Fuya said once Awasi left. “Sure enough, the moment I gave the order, Bata didn’t resist—he just ran. I overestimated him. I thought he’d stand and fight me.”

“Classic case of shadows and paranoia,” Zhang Jinchuan sighed in relief. “But he was clever to run. If he’d resisted, it would’ve been suicide. Even if he denied it, Awasi would’ve stripped him of command and investigated. Then escaping would’ve been impossible. Better to flee at once. Even if nothing was proven, he’d still lose Awasi’s trust—and that alone meant doom.”

“That’s a bit like when Cao Cao tried to assassinate Dong Zhuo,” Su Jie added. “He was caught in the act, so he immediately dropped to his knees and offered the dagger as tribute. Later, Dong Zhuo suspected him and someone advised: summon Cao Cao again. If he comes, it’s loyalty; if he doesn’t, it’s treachery. Cao Cao, knowing his guilt, fled immediately.”

“A psychological game—interesting,” Zhang Manman said, realizing the plan had more or less succeeded.

“Fuya,” Zhang Jinchuan said, “when you speak to the general later, this is how you should put it…”

He pulled her aside and whispered instructions.