Chapter 72: Negotiation

Night fell over Da San Yuan restaurant.

At 7:30, Lin Yu's car slowly stopped in front of the restaurant.

"Bureau Chief," Zhou Wei said after getting out of the car, looking around with a slight frown, "The French patrol officers seem unusually active tonight."

Indeed, the streets were filled with French patrol officers in uniform. They stood in small groups at intersections, their rifles flashing cold light under the streetlamps. Especially in the districts near Da San Yuan, the density of patrol officers was noticeably higher than usual.

Lin Yu took a pack of San Pao Tai cigarettes from his coat, lit one leisurely, inhaled deeply, and the smoke curled in the night.

"These patrol officers," he said contemptuously, glancing at the nearby Frenchmen, "what good are they?"

Zhou Wei smiled knowingly, "Indeed, the gear they carry is no better than a child's firecracker."

"Tell me the current situation," Lin Yu said, flicking ash from his cigarette.

"The German First Battalion has completed its deployment in the three nearby blocks," Zhou Wei lowered his voice, "If any disturbance occurs, they can arrive on the scene within three minutes at most."

He paused, then continued, "Additionally, the entire defense of Da San Yuan has been taken over by our people. From the doorman to the waitstaff, from the kitchen to the private rooms, they're all ours."

"What about Hong Yuan?"

"He's already been sent home," Zhou Wei said with a smile, "We said it was a vacation for him. That Old Fox was sensible and left without a word."

Lin Yu nodded, his gaze sweeping the second floor of the restaurant. Through the bright glass windows, he could see the busy figures inside. Those seemingly ordinary waitstaff each concealed lethal weapons at their waists.

"Which private room does Wu Teng Qianqiu want?"

"Song Yue Xuan," Zhou Wei replied, "the innermost room on the second floor. It's said he chose it specifically because it offers a view of the entire French Concession at night."

"Heh," Lin Yu sneered, "he does know how to pick a place."

He stubbed out his cigarette and stepped toward the restaurant's main entrance.

The doorman bowed respectfully, "Director Lin."

Lin Yu nodded and strode into the restaurant.

In the first‑floor hall, a few seemingly ordinary guests were dining. But Lin Yu knew they were all elite members of the Fourth Bureau, each a veteran of many battles.

"Bureau Chief," a "waiter" hurried forward, "the private room is ready."

Lin Yu asked as he walked, "Are the snipers in position?"

"Yes," Zhou Wei whispered, "we have people on the opposite clock tower and in the neighboring apartment building. Just give the word…"

"Very good."

Lin Yu ascended the stairs, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Twenty minutes later, a black sedan and a Security Command Headquarters vehicle took turns stopping in front of Da San Yuan.

Wu Teng Qianqiu was the first to alight, followed by five or six guards dressed in samurai armor. Each guard wore a long sword at his waist, his expression stern and his eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings.

Qin Dong Zhi followed closely, a formulaic smile on his face.

Zhou Wei came down the stairs, standing at the doorway and slightly bowing, "Special Envoy Wu Teng Qianqiu, Commander Qin, please come inside."

Just as Wu Teng Qianqiu was about to step forward, two suit‑clad security guards blocked the way.

"Sorry," one of them said fluently in Japanese, "please hand over your weapons. It's the rule."

Wu Teng Qianqiu's expression darkened instantly, "What did you say?"

"Weapons," the guard repeated, "must be temporarily secured."

"How dare you!" a samurai guard shouted angrily, "Do you know who you're talking to?"

Zhou Wei stood aside, his expression calm, "It's the rule; it applies to everyone who comes."

"The rule?" Wu Teng Qianqiu sneered, "This is the French Concession, not the Fourth Bureau's territory. My guards cannot be without weapons!"

He turned to Qin Dong Zhi, "Commander Qin, what do you think of this logic?"

Qin Dong Zhi was about to speak when Zhou Wei cut in, "Special Envoy Wu Teng Qianqiu, since you mentioned the French Concession, you should adhere even more to the rule. The French Concession's public security regulations clearly state that anyone entering a public place may not carry weapons."

"You!"

"Zhou Wei is right," Qin Dong Zhi interjected promptly, "Special Envoy Wu Teng Qianqiu, to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings, perhaps we should…"

"No need," Wu Teng Qianqiu cut him off, the scar on his left eye twitching with anger, "If my guards are without weapons, I'd rather not go in!"

The atmosphere instantly became tense.

The samurai guards already had their hands on their sword hilts, and the security guards subtly slipped their hands inside their suits.

At that moment, a cold voice came from upstairs:

"Let them come up."

It was Lin Yu's voice.

Zhou Wei gave a slight nod, signaling the guards to step aside.

"Thank you, Director Lin, for your understanding," Qin Dong Zhi quickly smoothened the situation, "Special Envoy Wu Teng Qianqiu, please."

Wu Teng Qianqiu let out a cold snort and strode into the restaurant.

Inside Song Yue Xuan, an atmosphere of Eastern style prevailed.

Qin Dong Zhi had long arranged for Hong Yuan to be notified, turning the entire private room into a typical Eastern style. Tatami mats, folding screens, tea sets—every detail displayed Eastern characteristics.

However, when Wu Teng Qianqiu pushed the door open, he was met with a scene that greatly displeased him.

Lin Yu wore a meticulously tailored black suit, the gold pocket watch chain on his vest glittering under the lights. He wore polished leather shoes, stepped onto the tatami without a care, and leisurely sipped his tea.

To Eastern eyes, this was sheer provocation.

Wu Teng Qianqiu's expression darkened instantly, the scar on his left eye twitching slightly. In their tradition, stepping onto tatami with shoes is an extremely rude act.

"Director Lin," Qin Dong Zhi said upon seeing this, "shall we change to slippers?"

"No need," Lin Yu said without looking up, continuing to drink his tea, "I've never been accustomed to that Eastern way."

He said it very casually, yet every word was like a knife, striking Wu Teng Qianqiu's sore spot directly.

Wu Teng Qianqiu stared fixedly at Lin Yu's leather shoes, as if trying to burn two holes in them with his gaze. The samurai guards behind him also showed angry expressions, their hands instinctively resting on their sword hilts.

"Director Lin," Wu Teng Qianqiu forced down his anger, "I specifically had the room arranged in a Japanese style so that everyone could experience my country's traditional culture."

"Oh?"; Lin Yu then lifted his head, the corner of his mouth hooking a derisive smile, "That really is troublesome for the envoy. However…".

He deliberately rubbed his leather shoes on the tatami: "I think this is fine."

"Director Lin," Mutō Chiaki said through gritted teeth, "Don't you think this is impolite?"

"Politeness?" Lin Yu set down his teacup, his eyes suddenly turning icy, "To guests, I will naturally be courteous. But to beasts…".

He stood up, looking down at Mutō Chiaki from above: "I've never bothered with these things."

"Idiot!" Mutō Chiaki flew into a rage, a string of Japanese words spurting from his mouth.

Those samurai guards also changed expression, hands already on their sword hilts.

Lin Yu, however, seemed not to have heard, sat down again, leisurely pouring himself a cup of tea: "Commander Qin, you said the foreigners wanted to negotiate? Is that all the guts you have?"

Qin Dong Zhi watched the tense scene, thinking to himself, "Not good."

This Lin Yu really is a madman, right from the start wanting to finish things off.

"Envoy Mutō," he hurriedly smoothed things over, "Director Lin may not be familiar with Eastern etiquette; please excuse him."

"Excuse me?" Mutō Chiaki sneered, the scar on his left eye twitching hideously, "Commander Qin, do you think this is a matter of etiquette? This is outright provocation!"

"Provocation?" Lin Yu glanced at him contemptuously, "With you beasts, you're not even worthy of me making a special effort to provoke."

The atmosphere in the private room instantly dropped to freezing point.