Chapter Twenty-Four: Comrades in Arms

"Kid, you're still as sharp as ever," the man suddenly burst into laughter. "If I hadn't spoken just now, you probably would've pulled the trigger, right?"

"I still will," Liu Jingye replied, spinning around abruptly and firing at the man behind him.

A soft hiss sounded. The man behind immediately crouched, covering his face, and roared angrily, "You brat, you fooled me with a water gun! And you filled it with chili water—damn it, cough, cough..."

He coughed violently, spitting repeatedly. Liu Jingye wore a triumphant smile and half-jokingly said, "I'm not an arms dealer—where would I get a real gun?"

The man paused, spat twice with force, then sat down and lit a cigarette. The lighter illuminated his face, revealing a jagged scar stretching from his forehead to his mouth, dividing his face in two.

Liu Jingye frowned deeply; he could never forget that scar. Instantly, he stood at attention and saluted, solemnly saying, "Good evening, Sergeant!"

The man exhaled smoke and waved it away, saying, "I'm not a sergeant anymore. Call me Li Yue, or just Brother Yue."

"Yes, Brother Yue," Liu Jingye corrected himself quickly.

Li Yue tossed him the cigarette and lighter. Liu Jingye took the cigarette and sat beside him. The moon was hidden behind clouds, and Li Yue's ferocious face receded back into darkness.

A cold wind swept by. In the darkness, only the glowing tips of two cigarettes flickered. Neither spoke, as if they were mourning something.

After a while, Liu Jingye broke the silence. "Brother Yue, why—"

His words were cut short by Li Yue. "It's been a long time, Xiao Liu. Come, drink with me tonight."

Li Yue stood up and pulled Liu Jingye along without another word.

Liu Jingye frowned slightly, thinking, "The old sergeant doesn't want to talk. Fine, maybe he's on a special mission."

For brothers who had faced death together, Liu Jingye felt absolute trust. These warriors, even after returning to civilian life, carried honor and a sense of duty. They would never do anything to harm their country or the people.

"Drink again? Didn't you have enough chili water just now?" Liu Jingye's spirits lifted—it was more intimate than meeting a fellow townsman.

Li Yue drove an old, battered secondhand sedan. Liu Jingye was intrigued by the car and immediately said, "Let me drive, Brother Yue."

"You?" Li Yue jumped into the driver's seat, shaking his head. "Better not. I still remember the first time you drove—you crashed right into a wall."

Liu Jingye blushed, protesting, "That wasn't my fault!"

Li Yue ignored him, laughing heartily for a long time before half-jokingly saying, "You trust people too much!"

Liu Jingye sat dutifully in the passenger seat, unable to help recalling the past.

Back then, they were about to enter the jungles of the Ten-Thousand Mountains to fight armed drug traffickers. Before departing, they stayed at a border military camp to rest.

It happened to be when new recruits were joining the unit, separated from them by a wall. Liu Jingye was trying his hand at driving for the first time, practicing reversing, while the new recruits were being called out on the other side.

One by one, the recruits shouted, "Present!"

Liu Jingye listened earnestly to the commands as he reversed—only to crash and knock down the wall, becoming the butt of jokes.

"Those three months in the jungle were truly hard," Li Yue said, cigarette between his lips, recalling the past. For someone like him to admit it was difficult, ordinary people could never imagine the hardships they endured.

The battered car sped through the city, arriving at its oldest district.

Liu Jingye recognized the street—they called it "Junk Street," known for its beggars.

Of course, they weren't real beggars, but members of the Beggars' Gang pretending to be destitute to avoid honest work. There were also outsiders—petty gangsters like Lin Shengnan and her crew, and cheap streetwalkers. In short, it was a street of chaos.

Violence, drugs, sex, filth, and poverty filled the air.

Liu Jingye followed Li Yue, puzzled, as they entered the famous street. People of all sorts crowded the roadside—shirtless men smoking and drinking, perfumed women striking seductive poses. Bars, restaurants, and motels lined both sides.

"Come on, tonight's on me. Let me show you a good time!" Li Yue threw an arm around Liu Jingye's shoulder, speaking with warmth and generosity.

Liu Jingye smiled indifferently. As long as he could drink and eat with his brother, anywhere was fine.

"Brother Li, you’re here! Please, come in!" The charming proprietress greeted them warmly at the restaurant door.

They sat by the wall, and the proprietress called out, "Brother Li’s here! The usual—fresh kidneys!"

Liu Jingye nearly burst out laughing, scratching his head. "Brother, isn’t it a bit early to be taking supplements?"

Li Yue laughed carelessly. Here, he felt an ease, as if he’d come home.

Dishes and barbecue arrived one after another, along with a bottle of spirits and a case of cold beer.

"Come, let's drink this first," Li Yue raised his glass. Liu Jingye downed the spirit in one gulp.

The burning liquor was like a fire igniting their passion. Their blood seemed to boil, as if they were back on the smoky battlefield. Every drink was a toast to survival, a celebration that they were still alive.

They drank in silence, exchanging no words, simply celebrating their lives.

Soon, the alcohol began to hit them both, their eyes unfocused. Finally, the inevitable question surfaced. Liu Jingye asked again, "Brother Yue, why are you here? Why did that Arab contact you? Are you really—?"

"That's right..." Li Yue opened another bottle and took a deep swig. "I'm the one connecting them, and I have ties to the Imperial Court too. As for why, I can't tell you."

"But—" Liu Jingye tried to ask.

A sudden crash interrupted them—a bottle shattered at their feet.

A table nearby erupted in argument. A burly man brandished a bottle, cursing, while others shouted back.

Suddenly, Li Yue smashed his own bottle. The quarreling group immediately looked over. Upon seeing Li Yue, their expressions froze with terror.

"Brother Li, sorry, we didn't see you here. Really sorry!" the men apologized in unison, and told the proprietress, "Brother Li’s tab is on us tonight—so sorry, Brother Li."

They threw some bills down and left quickly, fearfully.

Liu Jingye frowned deeply, staring at Li Yue, whose face was twisted, his drunken eyes flashing with murderous intent.

The jagged scar on his flushed face looked like a living centipede—terrifying.

Li Yue laughed coldly, then turned to Liu Jingye. "See? Even these thugs act like they've seen a ghost when they see me. That scar's only real use."

"Brother, I have to live too," Li Yue slurred. "I could've been an instructor in the army, but I insisted on leaving. The organization arranged a job for me in town, but with my looks, they put me in charge of the boiler room—clearly didn't want me seen. I was furious and quit. But you know me—after all these years, other than killing, I have no other skills. If the bright world can't accept me, then I'll just become part of the darkness..."

Li Yue drunkenly recounted his misfortunes: unfulfilled ambitions, constant discrimination, no basic respect. Because of secrecy, he couldn’t reveal his past.

Only Liu Jingye knew how much honor and glory that scar represented.

Liu Jingye was furious, wishing he could go deal with those who disrespected Li Yue, but Li Yue stopped him. He said quietly, "Forget it, it's all in the past. I'm doing well now. Don't worry—I have principles and limits I’ll never break. Enough talk, let's keep drinking. Later I'll show you some fun—there may not be city lights here, but there’s plenty of entertainment."

Watching Li Yue gulp beer, Liu Jingye squinted, thinking, "Is it really only because of this that he’s mixing with the underworld?"