Rather than going home for dinner with a grandfather, it would be more accurate to say we were heading to a battlefield, the burn the bridges kind.
Zhang Mingsheng appeared to be dressed casually, but in reality, he was armed to the teeth. He instructed Ah Shan and Ah Hai that they were not to leave our side for a single step this time; even if the servants tried to block them, they were to follow right behind us.
Zhang Yaonian was exceptionally talented at business and had a masterful way of manipulating those beneath him. Because he disliked Zhang Mingsheng, Zhang Mingsheng was instantly reduced to a discarded pawn.
He had once joked in front of the news media that the Zhang family had no worthy successors and that his descendants were useless; he suggested it would be better to give away his entire fortune to charity or adopt a clever orphan with whom he shared a connection, handing over all his assets to give back to society. Gossip magazines praised his “generosity” and waxed poetic about the desolation of a formidable hero left without an heir.
The public loves to dig for a touch of pathos in public figures. Zhang Yaonian’s self-deprecating humor catered perfectly to their tastes. For a time, the belief spread across Hong Kong that despite his ruthless methods over the years, in old age he had become nothing more than a man who valued family. People even began to praise his spirit and tactics, rationalizing his dirty deeds as the heroic maneuvers of a titan commanding both the underworld and the legitimate business world.
At that time, Zhang Mingsheng had already been cast out into the streets, even lining up for relief meals.
I suppose Zhang Mingsheng was once young and naive.
Not as a human being, of course, but as a novice psychopath. Now, however, he was itching to find out if he could truly break free from his grandfather’s control. My feelings toward this were complicated.
Those with an overbearing lust for control often grow venomous and resentful in their old age. Zhang Mingsheng was clearly a thorn in his side, and given Zhang Yaonian’s superstition, Zhang Yike would naturally become his newly selected chess piece. When that happened, perhaps Zhang Mingsheng and I would end up like his parents, disappearing without cause or trace. Only the young Keke would remain, forced to move into that gloomy mansion surrounded by wolves and living at the mercy of others’ whims. And Zhang Xiaoyuan would be left to wander the streets.
But if Zhang Mingsheng succeeds, the two children will naturally have no worries about food or clothing; leaving me as the unlucky one.
Whether to live with Zhang Mingsheng or die with him.
It’s truly a difficult choice.
So, I shifted my attention back to the velvet jewelry box Zhang Mingsheng handed me. I flipped it open to find a pale gold ring; the other was already on his finger.
Zhang Mingsheng had mentioned that since this kidnapping case had put the two children in danger, Zhang Yaonian might use it as a pretext to make a move.
Zhang Mingsheng was putting on his jacket; it was a dark grey sportswear set that made him look many years younger.
I asked, “Will he just snatch the children away?”
“No.” Zhang Mingsheng said.
“Then that’s a bit troublesome,” I remarked. “An open attack is easy to dodge, but a hidden arrow is hard to guard against.”
Zhang Mingsheng suddenly walked over and leaned down expressionlessly before bracing his hands on the armrests of my wheelchair. He was so close that he forced me to turn my head away.
He didn’t care; he only whispered to me, “Bb, there’s no dodging it. If he makes up his mind, by the day Keke is taken away, we will already be buried in some forest in Hong Kong that even police dogs couldn’t sniff out.”
Unable to dodge, I could only remain in a stalemate.
My head began to ache. I wondered if it was worth gambling my own life and Keke’s future just to see Zhang Mingsheng suffer.
Zhang Mingsheng straightened up and began tidying his appearance in the mirror.
“Since you know it’s a ‘Hongmen Banquet[mfn]Hongmen banquet refers to a situation that looks polite, formal, or even friendly on the surface, but is actually dangerous, coercive, or full of hidden intent underneath.[/mfn]’ why must we go?” I pressed.
“Hiding would only make him think we are afraid.” Zhang Mingsheng replied.
I found it laughable and asked, “What? Are you saying you aren’t?”
He turned his head to look at me, his gaze locking directly onto mine. I didn’t flinch, searching his eyes for any hidden meaning.
After a long silence, he answered, “I wasn’t before.”
“And now?” I persisted.
He smiled and said, “Officer Yu, this isn’t an interrogation room, and you aren’t a psychological expert.”
Then he added, “Now, I am even less afraid. With someone like Officer Yu to live and die by my side, what is there to fear?”
I knew those words weren’t true. Losing interest at once, I looked away.
“If we survive this year, I’ll take you to Hokkaido to see the snow.” Zhang Mingsheng said suddenly.
I replied, “I want to go alone.”
Since I knew it would never happen, there was no harm in saying it.
To my surprise, Zhang Mingsheng remained silent for a long time before actually responding, “Alright.”
“I’ll have Ah Hai go with you, so you’ll have someone to look after you. Someone like you might end up getting lost at the airport again.”
Thinking of the past, I gave a cold laugh and asked, “Having Ah Hai looks after me well… aren’t you afraid he’ll let me go?”
“I know Ah Hai looks after you,” Zhang Mingsheng said. “That’s why I instructed him that he can only let you go if I am dead.”
“Then I’ll just have to wish you an early—” Before I could finish my sentence, Zhang Mingsheng pinched my cheek.
He often played with Keke this way, intentionally pinching her cheeks so she couldn’t speak, which always left her in tears of frustration. Childish, utterly childish. He was already thirty-five years old, yet he hasn’t shown the slightest sign of maturity at all.
Zhang Mingsheng captured my face, squeezing my mouth into a pout. He said with a smile, “You aren’t allowed to curse your husband.”
I glared at him.
“Not with your eyes either.” He spoke.
I retracted my gaze and looked at him blankly.
“And not in your heart either.” He added.
Losing my patience, I let out a muffled protest and laid my cards on the table in a blurred voice, “I can’t do that.”
Zhang Mingsheng burst into laughter.
It turned out he only did it to hear me make that unintelligible noise.
Sometimes I think that Keke’s fondness for watching little animals grunting and babbling is perhaps the only trait she inherited from her father aside from her eyes and the bridge of her nose.
Zhang Mingsheng, however, said, “Sometimes Keke is very much like you, especially when she’s stubborn.”
He finally let go and moved behind me, preparing to push me out the door. Dark clouds gathered densely outside, pressing against the sky as if a storm were about to break at any moment.
After Ah Hai opened the car door, Zhang Mingsheng suddenly stopped. On a sudden whim, he said, “The weather is bad today, and Keke’s health is fragile. She shouldn’t go. Xiao Yuan will stay too. Ah Hai, stay home and look after them.”
At that moment, not a single drop of rain had fallen.
The secretary sent by Zhang Yaonian stiffened but didn’t dare say a word.
When we were halfway there, a sudden torrential downpour broke out, the rain so heavy it beat against the roof in a dull, rhythmic drumming. One didn’t even need to look out to imagine how turbulent the tides would be tonight.
The one following the two of us today was Ah Shan.
He was more reckless and rigid, a man of few words who would charge straight ahead at the first sign of trouble, always positioning himself in front of Ah Hai as if he had no fear of death.
Zhang Mingsheng was also very particular in the way he employed people; he used Ah Hai when carefully planning and maneuvering and turned to Ah Shan when it was time to go all in with no way back.
Of course, it’s also possible I’m overthinking it.
Ah Shan was a complete brute. He couldn’t steam an egg custard, he’d fall asleep watching cartoons, and don’t even mention play video games. Leaving him at home would be the equivalent of giving the two children two extra periods of evening study hall.
It was already a huge concession that he didn’t make the children stand at military attention. Right now, he sat beside me, upright and unmoving like a mountain; true to his name.
I leaned against the window, my thoughts drifting to another question: Why didn’t Zhang Mingsheng leave me at home as well?
