Searching for someone in northern Myanmar, and you call that earning tuition fees?

"Tap, tap, tap."

Su Ming glanced at Li Changfeng.

Li Changfeng shook his head slightly, his right hand silently gripping the baton. Old Zhao's smile froze on his face. He put down his thermos and hunched over, shrinking to the side of his bunk—an instinct he had developed in peacekeeping forces: to seek cover first when in doubt.

Su Ming stood up and walked to the door.

Instead of opening the door immediately, he leaned to the right of the door frame, avoiding a position directly facing the door panel.

"No." Su Ming's voice was calm and his words were clear. "I'm here to claim my share of the inheritance."

There was a two-second silence outside the door.

"Click".

The door lock popped open, and the door gap was opened by about fifteen centimeters.

A dark gun barrel was the first thing to protrude inside.

It was a Makarov pistol, an older model, but in excellent condition, with the muzzle pointed directly at Su Ming's chest.

Li Changfeng's gaze darkened, and the baton in his right hand was already halfway extended. He grabbed the thermos cup that Old Zhao had just put down—not to drink water, but to throw at someone.

"Scholar?" A young woman's voice came from behind the gun, full of vigilance.

"Yes." Su Ming didn't move, nor did he even look at the gun; he simply answered calmly.

The gun barrel paused for a second in front of his chest, then slowly retracted.

The door opened.

A girl wearing a dark gray hooded windbreaker slipped in, closed the door behind her, and with a flick of her wrist, locked the door with three locks: chain, lock, and bolt—her movements were clean and efficient.

She was probably in her early twenties, pale-faced with noticeable dark circles under her eyes, her lips chapped and peeling, and her hair was haphazardly tied into a ponytail and tucked into her hood. But her features were delicate, and even in her haggard state, her beauty was undeniable.

She hadn't put the Makarov away yet; the muzzle was pointing downwards and the safety was on.

She turned around.

I saw Su Ming.

I saw Li Changfeng.

I saw Lao Zhao.

The private room was silent for five seconds.

Ah Xue stared at Su Ming's face for three seconds, her expression shifting from expectation to doubt, then to bewilderment, and finally to utter astonishment.

"You... are you the scholar?"

"right."

"The scholar with the highest rating on the platform?"

"Um."

Ah Xue opened her mouth, then closed it again. She took a step back, leaning against the door, her gaze sweeping over Li Changfeng and Lao Zhao, as if searching for some reasonable explanation.

In her mind, the "scholar" should be a top-tier soldier, standing 1.9 meters tall, wearing a tactical trench coat, with a face covered in scars, and eyes radiating a murderous aura of carnage. He should also be followed by a fully armed private military contractor squad, preferably with two armored vehicles.

What is standing in front of her now?

A young man who looks like a student.

A middle-aged man with a sour face.

There was also an old man... with Buddhist prayer beads around his neck, a thermos in his arms, and a strong smell of goji berries and red dates.

"Are you guys really in this line of work?" Ah Xue's voice was a desperate struggle. "Did some variety show production crew wander onto the wrong set?"

No one answered.

Ah Xue's gaze fell on Su Ming's canvas bag. "What's in your bag? A gun?"

"Legal documents".

"..."

She then looked at Li Changfeng: "What about you? Did you bring a gun?"

"no."

"No?" Ah Xue's voice rose a half-octave. "You came to the Arctic Circle on an SSSS-level escort mission, and you didn't bring a gun?"

"The approval process hasn't been completed in time."

Ah Xue closed her eyes for a second and felt her temples throbbing.

She turned to Old Zhao, her last glance holding little hope: "And you? How are you feeling?"

Old Zhao thought the other person was concerned about him. He straightened his chest, patted the ice crystals off his military overcoat, and gave what he considered a very reliable smile.

"Don't be afraid, young lady. Although your Uncle Zhao looks a bit old, he's still capable in a pinch—"

"Then why have you been taking medication?"

Old Zhao's mouth remained frozen in place.

He looked down and saw that he was still clutching the blister pack of nitroglycerin pills in his right hand. In his haste, he had crushed the foil, and the three brown pills were now lying in his palm.

An eerie silence filled the private room.

Ah Xue slowly tucked the Makarov back into her waistband, her movements very gentle, as if she had lost faith in the gun herself.

"Does the platform think I'm an idiot?" Her voice was hoarse as she shook her head self-deprecatingly. "They sent you three to be cannon fodder."

She turned to look at the dark tunnel wall outside the window, her tone suddenly becoming very calm.

"Get out of here. I'll pay you the fee. Get off the bus now, and you might still live."

Upon hearing this, Old Zhao's eyes lit up instantly. He was about to add, "The young lady is very understanding," when he noticed Su Ming slowly dusting off the dust from his canvas bag.

The movement was very light, but it made Old Zhao, who was about to lift his buttocks, sit back down heavily, and the joy on his face vanished instantly.

Ah Xue ignored them and had already taken out her phone.

"What are you doing?" Li Changfeng asked.

"Contact platform customer service." Without looking up, Ah Xue's fingers tapped rapidly on the buttons. "Request a replacement. I demand a new armed escort team with combat experience, at least ten people, armed, and equipped with armored vehicles. Not this kind—"

She glanced up at the three of them, and her lips twitched slightly.

"This kind of health and wellness tour group."

Old Zhao's thermos cup stopped in mid-air.

Wellness travel group.

He looked down at himself—a dog-skin hat, Buddhist prayer beads, a thermos, goji berry tea, and nitroglycerin tablets.

Damn, it really does look alike.

"girl--"

"Call me Ah Xue, or customer, don't call me 'girl,' you're not my boss."

Old Zhao choked for a moment.

Su Ming leaned against the upper bunk's handrail, remaining silent. He waited until Ah Xue had vented her anger before speaking.

"The platform's SSSS-level targeted commissions do not accept refunds or replacements. You should remember Article 7 of the commission agreement you signed."

Ah Xue's finger remained on the screen, not moving.

She did remember that clause: irrevocable and non-transferable.

"I've been hiding on this train for three days." Ah Xue's voice suddenly lowered, her knuckles white as she gripped her phone case tightly. "I haven't slept for three days, every second I've been worried that Arctic Fox's people would break down the door and slit my throat. I poured all my savings into this commission fee, hoping the platform would send a few really ruthless people to rescue me."

She looked at Su Ming, her lips trembling slightly.

"A student showed up instead."

Su Ming did not argue. He squatted down, took out the thick stack of legal documents from his canvas bag, and placed them on the small table.

"The heavy industry group left by your grandfather is registered in the three northern states of the Ice Mist Kingdom. Its core assets are two titanium alloy smelters and a rare metal mine. According to Article 14 of the Ice Mist Kingdom's current Foreign Investment Inheritance Law, as long as you complete the identity verification at the notary office and obtain the inheritance certificate, the legal transfer of the estate is irreversible."

Su Ming tapped the document with his fingertips.

"The law is on your side. No matter how rich the oligarchs on the other side are, they can't change the civil code of the Ice Mist Kingdom. What we need to do is not to fight, but to go through the proper procedures."

Ah Xue stared at him.

"Are you serious?"

"I've always been very serious."

"You're trying to reason with an Arctic fox using legal documents?"

"In any business dispute, the bottom line is the law. As long as the procedures are compliant, I believe we can sit down and communicate properly." Su Ming's tone was sincere. "We're all in it for the money, there's no need to be so barbaric."

Ah Xue stared at him as if he were an alien creature.

"Even if you're right," she gritted her teeth, her voice trembling, "what if they don't respect the law? What if they pull out guns? What will you use to defend yourself? Your mouth?"

Su Ming thought for a moment.

"Then we can only regretfully resort to self-defense."

"Self-defense?" Ah Xue almost laughed in anger. "Self-defense against Arctic foxes? Are you planning to kill them with legal documents or just talk them to death?"

"I have acted in self-defense before," Su Ming replied earnestly.

"Whom were you defending?"

"Probably... a little over a hundred people."

Ah Xue's lips twitched involuntarily. She looked at Su Ming's thin physique and then at his handsome and sincere face, and decided to categorize his words as a mental breakdown.

"You're all crazy. All three of you are crazy. I'm crazy too, sitting here talking to you."

"Fine, I'll ask one last time." Ah Xue's voice turned cold, and she slightly raised her chin. "Of the three of you, does any of you have any real combat experience? The kind where you actually fight against armed personnel?"

Old Zhao subconsciously puffed out his chest and opened his mouth.

But the image that flashed through his mind was—on the red soil of Africa, he was squatting behind an Iveco, sweating profusely and chewing nitroglycerin pills, while Su Ming was alone in front, using a calculator to bankrupt the warlord.

He was silent.

The private room fell silent again.

"I knew it." Ah Xue gave a wry smile, put her phone back in her pocket, and leaned her head back against the door.

The tunnel outside the window finally came to an end, and the train plunged into the wilderness. The polar night sky hung low like a canopy, and the wind and snow lashed against the windows with a dull thud.

The hot water in the heating pipes was gurgling.

No one spoke.

Then--

"Thump, thump, thump."

Three knocks on the door.

It didn't come from this side of the corridor.

It came from the partition wall of the next private room.

Everyone looked at that wall at the same time.

That wasn't the sound of knuckles knocking on the door.

It's a gunstock.