Chapter 5: Carefree

At the end of March on Lanta Island, the sky was blue, the sea even bluer, the sunlight radiant, and the warm breeze gentle—truly a paradise on earth.

Xu Shi sat on the terrace, lighting a cigarette.

Just as the cigarette was nearly finished, his phone vibrated again.

This time, it was a call from "Xiao Jiu." Or, more precisely, from Xiao Jiu’s phone.

Zhong Yuan answered.

As soon as he picked up, a voice on the other end asked, "Did you receive the photos?"

Zhong Yuan stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and replied, "Yes, I received them. Who are you people?"

"Who we are is none of your concern. Get the money ready, or prepare to bury your brother."

Zhong Yuan chuckled coldly. "Aren’t you afraid I’ll call the police?"

"Call the police?" The other party laughed. "Go ahead and try! Let’s see who’s faster—the police in finding someone, or me in killing them!"

Zhong Yuan raised an eyebrow, paused for a moment, then said, "I want to speak with Xiao Jiu."

The person on the other end seemed not to be in charge. After hearing this, they fell silent. Moments later, the voice returned: "Not now. You prepare the money first. Once it's ready, you can talk."

"Fine, let’s talk about the money then! One million US dollars? I don’t have that. If you insist on that amount, just go ahead and kill him," Zhong Yuan said calmly, his tone devoid of emotion even as he mentioned "killing," as if discussing something trivial.

His attitude stunned the kidnappers.

They were no strangers to kidnapping and extortion. Usually, at first, the victim's family was uncooperative, but eventually, they always complied, sometimes even begging. But none reacted with such cold indifference as Zhong Yuan, as if the kidnapped person was a stranger unrelated to him.

After a long pause, the voice finally asked, "Then how much can you offer?"

Zhong Yuan answered, "Fifty thousand dollars in cash. I can pay anytime if you accept."

The other side was momentarily taken aback, then cursed angrily, "Fifty thousand? Damn it, do you think we’re beggars? Five hundred thousand, not a cent less! Otherwise, prepare to receive the corpse!"

"Fifty thousand cash, plus fifty thousand via transfer. Take it or leave it," Zhong Yuan slightly conceded, his tone still cold, even tinged with impatience.

The kidnappers hesitated, then challenged, "Isn’t he your brother? You really don’t care if he lives or dies?"

Zhong Yuan sneered, "He’s not my real brother. Besides, he didn’t know who to trust and fell into someone else’s trap. I’m already being generous offering one hundred thousand dollars. That’s all I have. If you don’t like it, then do as you wish—tear him apart or sink him into the sea, I don’t care! Or you can ask him if he has other channels to get the money!"

As soon as he finished, he heard a curse in Southern Thai.

Holding the phone expressionless, Zhong Yuan waited a moment before the other side cleared their throat and said again, "Five hundred thousand dollars…"

"Ten thousand is all I have!" Zhong Yuan interrupted, "If you want it, we can negotiate. If you think it’s too little, do as you please. I won’t indulge you."

"Ten thousand?" The other side laughed angrily, about to mock him, but Zhong Yuan cut them off again, "Don’t like it? Then there’s nothing more to discuss. Suit yourselves!" With that, he hung up.

On the other end, Lao Pu stared dumbfounded at his phone. He glanced at Tan Wei, who was smoking nearby, and murmured, "Brother Wei, the call dropped!"

Tan Wei frowned, his face darkening. After a moment’s silence, he said, "Zhong Yuan isn’t simple."

Lao Pu moved closer, pondering, then asked, "What do we do now?"

Tan Wei narrowed his eyes. "No need to rush. He’s just bluffing. Every time, they start tough—threatening to call the police or send hitmen—but what happens in the end? They always hand over the money, even begging us to take it! So don’t worry. Zhong Yuan is no ordinary man. With Zhong Da and the other in our hands, he can’t make a move. Just wait; soon he’ll be the one begging us." He chuckled coldly. "Call Xiao Ka and have them settle in the area. Then take something from that guy named Xiao Hua and send it to the hotel where Zhong Yuan is staying. He’s so tough, let’s see if he really doesn’t care about Zhong Da’s fate as he claims."

Lao Pu immediately smiled. "I’ll call Xiao Ka right now!"

Inside the van, Xiao Jiu and Xiao Hua sat tied and hooded, leaning against each other as the vehicle swayed.

Suddenly, the phone in the co-driver’s hand rang. The man glanced at the caller ID and answered quickly: "Brother Pu, any orders?"

Lao Pu relayed Tan Wei’s instructions, added a few reminders, then hung up.

The man put down the phone, turned to look at the two Chinese men squeezed between seats, and sneered.

"Which one of you is Xiao Hua?" he suddenly asked in Southern Thai.

Neither responded.

The man grunted in frustration.

The driver whispered, "Brother Xiao Ka, these two are Chinese. They probably don’t understand our language."

Xiao Ka frowned, then spat in displeasure.

…

At one in the afternoon, Zhong Yuan had just finished lunch when news came from Er Gazi again.

Xiao Jiu and the others had crossed the sea to Krabi Town and were taken into a temple, never to come out.

A temple?

It seemed that although the head of the Buddha’s Hand Gang had once renounced secular life, the gang’s ties to these temples had not been severed. The gang’s rapid rise was largely thanks to the support of these temples. Years later, the Buddha’s Hand Gang still dominated southern Thailand, and their relationship with these temples was perhaps even closer.

Zhong Yuan’s face showed a trace of helplessness. At this point, those two reckless youngsters probably wouldn’t escape unscathed.

Temples in southern Thailand held exalted positions and had complicated ties with the government.

No matter what Xiao Jiu intended, they were likely to suffer this time. But suffering was a lesson.

Back home, Xiao Jiu was used to following orders—decisive and quick to act—but still inexperienced at handling things independently.

Now that they were here, Zhong Yuan intended to retire peacefully. Approaching forty, he had finally found some stability, which he cherished.

But Xiao Jiu was only in his mid-twenties; it was unlikely he would settle down quietly like Zhong Yuan. Besides, even if Xiao Jiu wanted to, fate might not allow it.

Like this time.

Xiao Jiu thought he had kept things well concealed, but Zhong Yuan knew almost everything.

After arriving on Lanta Island, Xiao Hua and the others planned to open a Chinese restaurant in the old town. It was a good idea—there were few Chinese eateries on the island, and with more tourists from home, business could be good.

But they forgot that Lanta Island was relatively isolated, with strong local hostility towards outsiders.

Moreover, Chinese were not particularly welcome in southern Thailand.

Shortly after securing the premises, local thugs began causing trouble. Xiao Hua’s group paid repeatedly, but the troublemakers saw them as easy marks and only grew bolder.

Not long ago, they even smashed up Xiao Hua’s nearly finished restaurant in the dead of night.

Endurance had limits.

To stop this, you must capture the leader first, or it never ends.

So Xiao Jiu targeted Tan Wei.

And thus came the scene of heroically rescuing the beauty on the beach.