Chapter 2: Guan Zi Sen: I want the dragon to ride on his face!
It was impossible not to feel frustrated.
His predecessor originally had a good future; even if he failed the military academy exam, he could have easily entered a public institution after returning to his hometown and pulling some strings. Instead, he was forced to join a Hong Kong triad.
Even Wu Feng, who had transmigrated from the future, was unwilling. As a professional web novelist with some skill, it wouldn't be difficult for him to become a wealthy cultural celebrity in Hong Kong in the mid-1980s.
This was the golden age for newspaper serialization of novels. Someone surnamed Ni could earn five hundred, or even a thousand, hong kong dollars per thousand characters, with a peak of several hong kong dollars per character. Other slightly famous authors could also reach two or three hundred hong kong dollars per thousand characters, in addition to royalties from publishing.
For him, who was used to writing two or three million characters a year, it was almost like robbing money.
He was confident that he could become a millionaire in just one year and also achieve cultural fame!
Unfortunately, it was too late to say anything now. Fortunately, he still had his golden finger for comfort.
With a thought, a virtual panel appeared before his eyes, with the information clearly visible.
Military Boxing, Hard Qigong, and Basic Tactical Command were the three skills, followed by experience bars similar to health bars.
The experience bars for the first two items were almost halfway, which only indicated that the upper limit for these two skills was not high.
As for Basic Tactical Command, it was only at a pitiful fifteen percent or so.
There was no clear numerical display; he could only analyze it by comparing the length of the health bar and the experience bar.
In addition, probably due to the fusion of souls, his memory had greatly improved; while not photographic, it was close, and his mind was exceptionally agile.
However, he had discovered the golden finger too recently and would need a lot of time to explore its specific functions.
Fortunately, his mood had completely settled down. What else could he do?
Hung Yee's Zhong Ye only heard that Wu Feng had served in the Mainland as a soldier, which was why he immediately joined Hung Yee as a Si Jiu with his Brother without a second thought.
It was no wonder he acted this way; the individual combat prowess of a People's Liberation Army soldier in the 1980s was definitely impressive.
In fact, Wu Feng did learn many skills for self-preservation during his military service.
Military Boxing and Hard Qigong were learned in the military. As for Basic Tactical Command, it was because he wanted to enter military academy, so he specifically sought opportunities to learn from experienced old soldiers.
Due to his age, although he participated in the Two Mountains rotation battle, he was part of the logistics wartime hospital guard unit, where he frequently encountered injured grassroots commanders and fighters.
As long as their temper wasn't particularly bad, he could always find opportunities to learn some useful things.
By piecing things together, he had managed to grasp the rudimentary basics of Basic Tactical Command.
The half-new, half-old minivan rattled its way to the bustling Mong Kok, stopping directly in front of a mahjong parlor on Shanghai Street. Wu Feng tossed a hundred hong kong dollars to the driving junior, braced himself, and pushed open the door to get out.
At the entrance, a burly young man in a short-sleeved floral shirt was casually leaning on a chair, puffing away at a cigarette. Seeing Wu Feng, he immediately spoke: “A Feng, has Auntie left?”
“She’s already safely boarded the train and left!”
Waving his hand to indicate he didn't smoke, Wu Feng let out a long sigh of relief and chuckled: “From now on, we Brothers must make a good career for ourselves, otherwise it will be hard to repay Brother’s kindness!”
These words were naturally meant for those with ears to hear; he still understood basic human relations.
“What are you talking about, kid? Just doing a good job is the best repayment!”
The glass door of the three-story mahjong parlor was pushed open, and Zhong Ye, the Sit Lord of Hung Yee, a man of medium build but already stout and around fifty years old, came out escorted by several Brothers.
Seeing Wu Feng, he asked cheerfully: “A Feng, have you settled the family matters?”
“Brother, it’s all settled!”
Wu Feng, speaking in somewhat halting cantonese, directly said: “If there’s anything, Brother, just give the order. I will definitely do whatever I can without hesitation!”
“Oh, this is like watching an opera!”
Just then, a harsh voice came from the street: “There seems to be a scene like this on TV, what was it called? Oh right, it’s called 'ruler and subject in harmony'!”
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw a burly man with bulging muscles swaggering over, surrounded by a dozen juniors, walking with an arrogant, disdainful gait.
“Bah, what kind of rubbish is this!”
A disgusting glob of thick phlegm was spat directly onto the ground in front of Zhong Ye's feet.
Wu Feng immediately moved in front of Zhong Ye, and at the same time, gave his Brother a look: get ready to grab a weapon!
“Don’t be nervous, he wouldn’t dare to act wild here in broad daylight!”
Zhong Ye reached out and patted Wu Feng's shoulder, then looked at the newcomer with great displeasure, coldly snorting: “Guan Zi Sen, what do you want?”
“Nothing, just want to see if you old geezer are dead yet!”
Guan Zi Sen laughed loudly, his demeanor incredibly arrogant, and pointed at Zhong Ye disdainfully: “Old man, have you thought it through? When the deadline arrives, I’ll come and take it myself!”
“Hmph, you want this mahjong parlor? Dream on!”
Zhong Ye’s old face turned dark with anger, and he sneered: “If you have the guts, come and take it. Don’t just blabber!”
“Heh, it seems you old geezer won’t shed tears until you see the coffin!”
A fierce glint flashed in Guan Zi Sen’s eyes, and his gaze towards Zhong Ye was chillingly cold. He bared two rows of stark white teeth: “I hope you old geezer can stay this brave forever!”
With that, he swaggered away with his equally arrogant juniors.
A heavy silence fell in front of the mahjong parlor. The close bodyguards around Zhong Ye all had ugly expressions, yet they remained silent, showing faint traces of fear.
Wu Feng and his Brother exchanged glances, thinking to themselves that Zhong Ye was far too tolerant.
The guy named Guan Zi Sen was practically riding on their heads, defiling them. They should have acted immediately just now.
This guy's nickname, coincidentally, is the same as a big shot from Wo On Lok in a certain movie. Truly, you see everything if you live long enough.
“Gang Tsai, and A Feng!”
After a long while, Zhong Ye finally broke the heavy silence, looking directly at the two Brothers and saying gravely: “If you two Brothers can solve Guan Zi Sen’s problem, the Hall will immediately promote you!”
“Really?”
Huang Wengang’s face lit up with excitement, and he eagerly said: “I’ll go do it tonight!”
“Alright, let me see your abilities!”
With that, he turned and left, protected by a group of close bodyguards.
Wu Feng, however, keenly noticed a hint of cunning flash in Zhong Ye's eyes as he left.
His heart tightened. It seemed things were definitely not as simple as they appeared on the surface.
“A Feng, let’s go back and prepare well!”
His Brother, Huang Wengang, was somewhat impatient, laughing loudly: “I didn’t expect to have a chance to rise so quickly!”
“Don’t be in a hurry yet. Let’s figure out the situation first!”
Wu Feng ignored his urgency and said gravely: “Brother, you first find someone to understand the situation, especially the background of that Guan Zi Sen just now, and it’s best to clarify the conflict between him and Brother!”
“A Feng, are you being too cautious?”
His Brother said somewhat dismissively: “As long as we two Brothers take down that bastard Guan Zi Sen, that’s all that matters. Why go through all this trouble?”