Chapter 1756: The Show Begins

Tang Fuyuan hesitated for a moment: "I actually do have some, bought yesterday, planning to burn them for my father's grave."

Zhou Andong laughed: "Where is it?"

"In my office." Tang Fuyuan said: "This afternoon, I meant to have my lover bring it back, but I forgot."

"Alright!" Zhou Andong said: "Have someone bring it, but don't take too much."

"I'll go get it myself."

Tang Fuyuan didn't expect Zhou Andong to be so superstitious.

Burning something for one's deceased elders is perfectly understandable.

But burning it for all kinds of little ghosts? That's really superstition.

Soon, Tang Fuyuan came down carrying a black plastic bag, inside which was the joss paper.

Zhou Andong took it and looked: it was no different from the spirit money sold in the northeast.

Besides, it's only 1994 now; in another two years, printed spirit money will start to appear.

Moreover, he knew that the first few who printed this stuff became multi-millionaires, achieving financial freedom.

"Hold it!" Zhou Andong handed the bag to Yu Zhan: "Don't lose it, be careful the little ghosts don't get the money, otherwise they'll come looking for you."

Yu Zhan chuckled: "No problem, if the little ghosts come, I'll buy another bottle of wine and drink with them."

No one knew where Zhou Andong was going to eat, so no one suggested taking a car.

A group of people walked along the road, heading forward for about half an hour.

By now, it was already past twelve o'clock.

Tang Fuyuan looked ahead into the distance, in the hazy glow, flickering neon lights appeared—it was Dongtai.

For most people, by this time they had already entered dreamland.

But for another part of people, for them, this is when their life truly begins.

"There's a big night market stall over there, let's eat there."

Zhou Andong pointed ahead, the gas lamp hanging over the night market stall was bright; even in this foggy weather, one could see many people still eating late-night snacks.

"Alright!" Tang Fuyuan was really hungry, so he immediately quickened his pace.

The night market stall owner, about forty years old, seeing a group of people arrive, hurriedly greeted them.

"Bosses, please come inside, there's still a big table, you can sit there just fine."

Zhou Andong looked: the so-called big table was just two small square tables pushed together, with a circle of small stools around the edge.

"Boss, your business isn't bad, huh."

"Dongtai's business is good, so mine is good too." The owner grinned: "At this time, it's still a bit early; after three a. m., the young masters and princesses, many of them will come here for late-night snacks."

Hearing the owner's words, he sighed and sat down on the stool.

"If Dongtai closes down, what will you do?"

"Impossible!"

The owner shook his head: Dongtai's business is so booming, and besides, the owner has powerful connections—how could it close?

"But what if?" Zhou Andong asked again: "Who can say for sure."

"If Dongtai really does close down." The owner smiled, his expression still disbelieving: "I can only find another place."

Zhou Andong didn't ask further, but said: "We're all hungry, what do you have here? Recommend your specialty, serve it to us."

"Sure thing!"

The owner agreed, the gas tank hissed, and the stove roared to life.

Soon, the owner brought over a plate of large shrimp: "I heard your accent is from the northeast, so I made a plate of salt-and-pepper large shrimp, deep-fried, the flavor is strong, suits northeastern taste."

Zhou Andong laughed, picked up a large shrimp, peeled the shell, and put it in his mouth: "Mmm, not bad, not bad."

The owner cooked quickly, in less than half an hour, over a dozen dishes were served.

Zhou Andong asked: "Are you the only one working here?"

"And my wife." The owner said: "She's feeling a bit unwell today, so I didn't let her come."

Zhou Andong asked again: "What beer do you have here?"

The owner hurriedly replied: "Zhujiang and Blue Ribbon."

"Give me two cases of Blue Ribbon." Zhou Andong picked up a sea snail: "Tonight we'll drink slowly, there's still a good show later, we can't miss it."

Besides Tang Fuyuan, no one knew what Zhou Andong meant by the "good show," but no one asked; everyone's thoughts were on eating, looking truly starved.

Time passed bit by bit, Zhou Andong and his group had already drunk seven cases of Blue Ribbon, and the time had come to 12:40 a. m.

Just then, the sound of car engines came from afar, a string of yellow headlights pierced through the foggy space and shone over.

Zhou Andong looked up, a smile appeared on his face.

"The good show has begun."

At this moment, the night market stall owner, along with the other few people eating late-night snacks here, also looked up—it was a fleet of police cars, and behind them, surprisingly, military vehicles.

Soon, the convoy sped past before their eyes and stopped at the entrance of Dongtai.

Immediately after, fully armed special police and armed police jumped out of the vehicles, quickly surrounding Dongtai.

The one who stepped down from the last police car was actually Yang Mulin, which surprised Zhou Andong greatly.

Then it became clear: Yang Mulin had been calculated by him, forced to act against Dongtai, but gained nothing here.

So, Yang Mulin personally took command as chief commander, after all, eradicating this den of vice would greatly boost his reputation among the people.

"Wentian, hold the joss paper." Zhou Andong took two cans of beer, stood up, and walked toward Yang Mulin.

…………………………

Seven or eight security guards stood at the Dongtai entrance, seeing the black mass of police and armed police holding guns, each one was terrified stupid.

When a captain came over with people, a security guard shuddered.

He was about to shout into his walkie-talkie when an armed police soldier saw him, took two steps forward, and slammed the rifle butt down hard.

"Bang!"

A dull thud of flesh striking flesh rang out, blood burst from the security guard's head, then he let out a muffled groan and fell rigidly to the ground.

"Clatter, clatter!"

The sound of bolts being pulled on rifles rang out, frightening several other security guards so much they nearly wet their pants.

They all huddled with heads covered, squatting on the ground, the movement very practiced, obviously from frequent training.

Shi Linhai ordered: "First company, second company, guard the outside—don't let a single person escape."

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Special police team, follow me!" Zheng Jun shouted, gun in hand, leading the people forward in a stride as they charged into the Dongtai gate.

"Third company!" Shi Linhai roared: "Follow me inside to seize the person—if you encounter resistance, you may open fire."

In a private room, Rao Zhanhua was enacting a scene of Lu Bu fighting Diaochan with a woman in flight attendant uniform.

Now, it was precisely when Wang Shuo's novel, "Sky High Flight Attendants," was all the rage, so many girls, to please customers, had put on flight attendant uniforms.

Huang Shida also had a woman beside him, but he remained perfectly gentlemanly, not moving, instead holding a glass of red wine, watching Rao Zhanhua with keen interest, which made the woman beside him feel deeply resentful.

"Ah Hua, it seems your temper is truly not small."

Rao Zhanhua opened his eyes, about to speak, when he heard a bang—the private room door was slammed open violently.

"Second Master, something has happened."