Cao Yang's level of violence far exceeded Summer Dongdong's. No matter how fierce she acted, deep down she lacked the ruthless edge needed to truly intimidate. Cao Yang, however, carried real lethal force, and people could sense it. Before he even had to use much, Lao Zhuang spilled the information.
According to Lao Zhuang, their counterfeit bills came from a young man named Chen Hao. The rate was 30 yuan for 100 bills. They usually bought in batches of one million, and large quantities got a discount — only 250,000 yuan.
Cao Yang was astonished; even fake bills could be this expensive.
Lao Zhuang explained that the high price was justified — the craftsmanship was top-notch. Poor-quality bills in the past could be had for 5 yuan per 100, but compared to this batch, they were worthless.
Cao Yang nodded in agreement; he could barely distinguish the bills himself. Even casino professionals would get fooled with the help of bill validators, so realistic were these notes.
"Where does Chen Hao usually operate? Give me his contact."
"We really don't know. Every time he contacts us, he uses a different number."
Cao Yang's face darkened. He picked up the dagger and stared at the bloodied Lao Zhuang.
"Brother, we're not lying; we truly don't know."
Seeing his expression, Lao Zhuang knew Cao Yang might strike and hurriedly said: "Don't worry, his people will be here soon to deliver the goods. Then you can contact him."
Cao Yang nodded. As expected, he had guessed right — the delivery hadn't occurred yet. Genius.
Waiting was boring, so he pulled out his bag and counted the cash.
"Hey… Lao Zhuang, you and I have no grudge. We're both in shady business, same kind of people. But you shouldn't have spent fake bills at Lushan International. The seventy thousand is a small matter for my boss; it's the face issue that counts."
"These seventy thousand, I'll take back to my boss. No objections?"
"No objections, no objections."
"I found you thanks to Bai Wei. I found Bai Wei thanks to the Chaozhou gang. You scammed them for 200,000; they entrusted me to recover it, so I'll take it. You have no objection?"
"No objection, no objection."
Cao Yang nodded, tossing 50,000 yuan on the table. "This is your own money; I won't take a cent."
"Thanks, thanks."
Cao Yang smiled. He actually wanted to take all the money and punish Lao Zhuang a bit to intimidate others, but he gave up for now — he needed to deal with Chen Hao.
At 4 a.m., someone knocked on Lao Zhuang's door. Cao Yang and Summer Dongdong snapped to attention.
"Click." Cao Yang opened the door.
Two men in their thirties stood there, carrying a large box.
Unlike movies, real counterfeit operators didn't wear suits, ties, or sunglasses with guns at the waist. One was bald — a plain, inconspicuous man.
The two hesitated, then seeing the battered trio inside, realized it was an ambush and bolted.
They reacted fast, but Cao Yang faster. He grabbed the bald man by the collar, pulling him back.
The bald man glared and swung a knife.
Cao Yang effortlessly caught his wrist and twisted. The knife clattered, and the man was dragged inside.
The other escaped; Summer Dongdong wanted to give chase, but Cao Yang stopped her.
"You're Chen Hao?" Cao Yang asked, looking at the man — clearly not young.
"You're a cop?" the bald man countered.
Cao Yang laughed: "I'm a lousy cop!"
"Then who are you?"
Cao Yang patted his shoulder: "Relax. We're not enemies. We could be friends."
He stayed polite, no violence. The bald man glanced at the three others and back at Cao Yang, confused.
"Ask them who I am," Cao Yang said, sitting next to Summer Dongdong and putting an arm around her waist. She tensed but didn't resist, remembering Cao Yang had warned her this was part of the act.
Lao Zhuang explained Cao Yang's identity and why they had been found.
After hearing the story, Chen Hao understood the situation.
"Brother, the fake bills in your shop came from Lao Zhuang and his men. It has nothing to do with me. No need to hassle me."
"Relax, we're friends," Cao Yang said, opening the box. Inside, one million counterfeit bills were neatly stacked.
He held one up to the light, praising it: "Beautiful work. I might buy some for fun."
"You just want to buy?"
"Otherwise, why wait here so long? Not for fun? For you?"
"Brother, I don't sell my… stuff."
"Damn, you old pervert!"
The joke eased the tension.
"How much do you want?"
"My quantity is large. Let your superiors negotiate with me."
"Heh… up to five million, I can decide."
Cao Yang shook his head, raising a finger: "I want this much."
"Ten million?"
"One hundred million!"
The bald man gasped, shaking his head: "If you're serious, we can talk. But if you're joking, it's pointless."
"I don't have time for jokes. Let your superiors negotiate."
"One hundred million? Can you handle that?"
Cao Yang laughed: "Brother, you probably stay in this small place all year. Travel, see the world, learn about our Yi He Association, check if a hundred million is a drop in the ocean for us."
He hit the nail on the head — Chen Hao rarely left his town and had no idea about the Yi He Association.
"If unsure, ask Xiao Wei. He's often in Dongguan casinos; he can tell you our capabilities and about my boss, Tang Shaojie. I represent my boss in negotiating with you. I expect you to treat me respectfully."
Chen Hao consulted Xiao Wei, who lavishly exaggerated the association's power — so much that even Cao Yang felt it was a bit over the top.
"Brother, I'll call my boss."
Chen Hao dialed, spoke for two minutes, and emerged:
"Seven o'clock. My boss will meet you at Nanfu Restaurant for tea."