At eight o'clock in the evening, the sky was completely dark.
Two pickup trucks drove out of the night, their headlights flashing twice on the dirt road before turning off.
Zhou Guanshan jumped down from the first truck, patted the dust off his clothes, and turned to lift the canvas covering the back bed.
"Young Master Jiang, the goods have arrived."
Jiang Cheng walked over.
Under the canvas, eight AKs were stacked neatly, their barrels gleaming with a cold light.
Next to them were two RPG launchers wrapped in oilcloth.
Wang Sheng had been leaning against a tree with a blade of grass in his mouth, looking like a complete loafer.
The moment he saw the weapons, the grass fell from his mouth.
He rushed over in a few quick strides, his whole body acting as if it had been propelled by a spring.
"Holy shit... Young Master Jiang, can I check them out?"
This must be the kind of "big toy" men loved besides cars; it was Jiang Cheng's first time seeing them in person.
Seeing Jiang Cheng nod, Wang Sheng crouched down and reached out, but he pulled his hand back just before touching the barrel of the RPG.
"My hands are sweaty."
He muttered to himself, rubbing his hands on his pants a few times before cautiously reaching out again.
As his fingertips touched the cold barrel, his eyes narrowed and his lips curled into an almost obsessive smile.
"Long time no see, old darling. Let me have a feel..."
Zhou Guanshan: "..."
Jiang Cheng: "..."
Xia Li stood in the shadows, her lips twitching slightly.
Wang Sheng was completely oblivious.
He held the RPG in both hands like a long-lost lover. His fingers traced the barrel, from the sight to the shoulder rest, from the launch tube to the grip, not missing a single inch.
"Did you miss me?" he whispered softly, his voice as quiet as if he were sharing secrets with a lover. "I missed you too."
He hoisted the RPG onto his shoulder and tested the sight. The moment his face pressed against it, his entire aura changed.
He was no longer the loafer bodyguard from a moment ago, nor the hoodlum with grass in his mouth.
He was a soldier.
A soldier who had spent twelve years at the border.
"Hmm... two mils off to the right." He squinted one eye, muttering to himself. "It's fine, I'll just adjust it later. A minor issue, won't get in the way."
He set that one down and picked up the other RPG.
The same movements, the same obsession. His fingers stroked the barrel as if feeling a woman's skin.
"This one is good." He nodded, his tone as serious as if he were critiquing a work of art. "Uncle Zhou, you calibrated this one personally, didn't you?"
Zhou Guanshan stood nearby, watching this scene, his lips twitching several times.
"Yes," he said. "I calibrated this one."
Wang Sheng grinned. "I knew it. The feel is different."
He set the RPG down and turned to the eight AKs, his eyes lighting up again.
He picked one up and ejected the magazine with one hand, his movements as fast as a magic trick.
With a "clack," the magazine came out.
"Whoa..." A sigh of satisfaction escaped him. "This rifling is like new."
He set that one down and picked up another, repeating the same actions—ejecting the magazine, pulling the bolt, checking the rifling.
"Great, this one is new too. Feels good."
The third one.
"This one is good too. What a great darling!"
The fourth one.
"Holy shit, this one is even better..."
When he picked up the fifth AK, he suddenly stopped.
"Wait," he muttered to himself. "The sound of this one is off."
He pulled the bolt again and listened closely.
"Hmm—the recoil spring is a bit soft." He nodded, disassembled the gun, fiddled with it for a moment, and then reassembled it. "Fixed."
The entire process took less than twenty seconds.
He went through all eight AKs in less than five minutes.
Then he stood up, clapped his hands, and turned around.
His eyes were still shining, and his grin was wide.
"Young Master Jiang! These pieces are all great! Fantastic!"
Zhou Guanshan finally couldn't take it anymore and glanced at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng shook his head and said, "Sheng'er, it's a good thing we're not in Chengdu, otherwise your pants wouldn't be safe tonight..."
Wang Sheng was still immersed in the joy of seeing such good equipment.
He replied blankly, "Huh??"
After two seconds of silence, he patted the RPG's barrel and grinned—
"Old partner, I'll let you taste blood tonight."
His smile was a bit cold under the moonlight, but it wasn't the sinister coldness of a villain—it was the coldness of a hunter getting his hands on a shotgun.
Watching his back, Zhou Guanshan suddenly remembered how he was in his youth.
He was the same back then. He couldn't move when he saw a good gun and couldn't bear to let go of a fine weapon.
He had spent thirty years at the border and had seen many people like this.
But someone like Wang Sheng, who treated weapons like lovers, brothers, and his very lifeblood, was rare.
This kind of person was born for this line of work.
He turned to Jiang Cheng. "You found a good bodyguard..."
Jiang Cheng smiled. Since the system found him, he was naturally top-notch.
Zhou Guanshan hesitated before asking, "Young Master Jiang, if I may ask... what time do you plan to make your move?"
Jiang Cheng glanced at his watch.
"Nine-thirty."
Zhou Guanshan was stunned. In his thirty years at the border, these things were always done at two or three in the morning.
That was when people were sleepiest. At nine-thirty, the sky had just turned pitch black, people weren't asleep yet, and their alertness was still high.
Wang Sheng stood up and clapped his hands. "Young Master Jiang, should I send someone in to scout the situation first?"
"No need. Chaqin's men will arrive in Banlai at nine-thirty tonight. They're coming from Tachileik and have been walking mountain paths all day. They'll be at their most exhausted when they arrive."
"Fifteen to twenty people," Jiang Cheng continued. "Two light machine guns, the rest are AKs. They'll sneak in from the left ridge and set an ambush at the entrance of the village... They'll set up one machine gun in the stilt house on the left and another in the one on the right."
Seeing how detailed Jiang Cheng was, everyone's expressions immediately turned serious.
Jiang Cheng paused. "Kun Tui's men will be trapped in the building in the middle of the village. We just need to set a trap beforehand..."
The shed went quiet for about three seconds.
Zhou Guanshan held his teacup, his hand frozen in mid-air, the cup two inches from his mouth.
"Young Master Jiang, how do you know all this in such detail?"
"Don't ask." Jiang Cheng paused and added, "Just do as I say."
He had been with the Jiang Family for thirty years and had seen the way the old master did things.
The old master never said how he got his information.
But every word he spoke eventually became reality.
Now, Jiang Cheng was the same.
A thought suddenly crossed Zhou Guanshan's mind.
He had sent people to scout Banlai.
Two informants, both veterans who had followed him for over a decade, had set out yesterday evening and hadn't sent word back yet.
He thought his intelligence was fast enough.
But Jiang Cheng... was even faster.
And detailed to an appalling degree.
What did this mean?
It meant that Jiang Cheng also had his own people here in Northern Myanmar.
And not just ordinary people... but the kind who could penetrate Chaqin's ranks and track their every move.
Just how many trump cards did this young man have?
At this moment, it seemed to Zhou Guanshan that with Jiang Cheng's power, he could probably handle this even without him.
Zhou Guanshan set down his teacup and took a deep breath.
"Alright." There was a touch more awe and solemnity in his tone as he spoke.
"Then nine-thirty it is. We'll do exactly as you say."