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

The plane landed at Harbin Taiping International Airport.

As soon as the hatch opened, a chilling draft, capable of freezing to the bone, mixed with dry, biting air, savagely rushed in.

Su Ming was only wearing a 300-yuan windbreaker he had bought at Jiangnan Airport, with a thin sweater underneath. As soon as he stepped off the jet bridge, the dry, bone-chilling air hit him in the face, but he simply adjusted the shoulder strap of his canvas bag as usual, his expression unchanged.

The phone buzzed and vibrated.

Sender: Song Jianguo.

Boss Song: [Grandpa Scholar! Have you landed yet? Is it cold over there?]

Boss Song: [I've already found you the best local guide, Bao Dashan! He's got connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles, absolutely reliable.]

Boss Song: [Report on any developments with your rebellious son immediately. If he's really plotting an armed rebellion, execute him on the spot without asking for permission! Remember to take a picture for record-keeping so I can publish a statement severing our father-son relationship in the newspaper!]

Rebellion?

Su Ming frowned, quickly calculating in his mind.

Thirty million in cash wouldn't even buy a decent individual air defense system on the black market. At best, it could only arm a platoon of bandits with rusty AK-47s.

With such meager resources, they think they can stage a rebellion in this heavy industrial base of Northeast China? They probably wouldn't even be able to withstand a single charge from the armed police, and would be pinned to the ground and forced to sing "Conquer."

This father seems to have some serious misunderstanding about his son's intelligence.

My phone vibrated again.

Boss Song: [Grandpa Scholar, this is of utmost importance. I've set up a double code for you and Bao Dashan; both of you must match it! Don't think it's too much trouble; it's for safety!]

Two coded messages are attached below.

Su Ming glanced at it, his eye twitching twice. This employer's wild imagination was more torturous than a cross-border bankruptcy liquidation.

He put away his phone, walked out of the exit, and quickly spotted a target at the arrivals area.

A middle-aged man wearing a black mink coat, a thick gold chain around his neck, and sunglasses was squatting under the no-smoking zone sign, puffing on his cigarette butt. Beside him was a sign with two large, flamboyant characters: "Picking Up People."

Su Ming walked over with his canvas bag on his back and stood in front of him.

The man with the gold chain paused for a moment, looked Su Ming up and down through his sunglasses, and tentatively cleared his throat: "Thirty million to buy a tiger, I want to be king of the mountain."

To justify the 59 million bounty in his account, Su Ming remained expressionless, even his eyes flashing with murderous intent, and said, "Your father sent me to suppress the bandits. Your ashes will be shipped back to the South free of charge."

The code was matched.

The man with the gold chain let out a long sigh of relief, his tense shoulders slumped, and he reached out to pat Su Ming on the shoulder: "Brother, you finally—"

Su Ming took a half step back without changing his expression and initiated the second round of "double verification" according to the "two-factor authentication" process sent by the employer.

He stared into the other man's eyes and declared firmly, "Heavenly King covers the Earth Tiger, I am your own father."

The man with the gold chain stopped in mid-air.

His facial muscles twitched violently, his back teeth clenched so hard they made a grinding sound, and his expression was worse than if he had swallowed a fly whole.

Amidst the stares of several middle-aged women around him, who seemed to think he was crazy, he finally managed to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth: "The pagoda suppresses the river demon... You're the real grandpa."

After saying that, he felt extremely humiliated. He ripped off his sunglasses, threw his cigarette butt on the snow, and stomped on it twice.

"Damn it, what kind of lousy code is this!" the man cursed, rubbing his frozen fingers. "Has Old Song been staying in the south for too long and lost his mind? Who wrote this? Are they seriously ill?!"

This man is Bao Dashan, a local "gangster boss" whom Song Jianguo hired at great expense.

He rubbed his hands together and then looked Su Ming up and down. His worn-out canvas bag and tattered windbreaker made him look like a college student on a budget trip to Northeast China during winter break.

Bao Dashan looked disgusted.

"This is ridiculous. Old Song said it was a multi-million dollar deal, why send a student who hasn't even graduated yet to run errands?"

He reached out and patted Su Dan's thin shoulder, pursing his lips in a sarcastic tone.

"Young man, you're freezing like a quail. Is Old Song stingy? He didn't even approve the money for you to buy a down jacket?"

Su Ming brushed the snow off his shoulder but didn't reply.

"Alright, stop standing outside. Get in the car, it's freezing outside, let's talk inside."

Bao Dashan opened the rear door of the Grand Cherokee.

Su Ming sat in the passenger seat. The car's heater was on, and the cheap perfume mixed with tobacco smell assaulted his senses.

Bao Dashan stepped on the gas, and the car drove away from the airport.

"Brother, don't blame me for being so talkative. This Northeast region is a deep and murky place." Bao Dashan gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his gold chain swaying on his chest. "Old Song came to the right person. No bragging, in this black soil, my reputation is more effective than anything else."

Looking at the snow scene outside the window, Su Ming casually replied, "Is that so?"

"Absolutely!" Bao Dashan raised his voice. "My network of connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles in Harbin is incredibly intricate. Let me tell you, I've added every single vendor selling grilled cold noodles within a five-mile radius on WeChat. Just mention my name, and they'll practically give you a couple of sprigs of cilantro for free!"

Su Ming hummed in agreement.

This web of relationships sounds like a spider web, easily torn apart.

"Where is Song Dabao now?" Su Ming interrupted his boasting and got straight to the point.

Upon hearing the name, Bao Dashan sneered, turning the steering wheel sharply to change lanes while cursing under his breath.

"That bastard Song Dabao, he's brainstem absent but he still knows how to enjoy himself. Let's go to the biggest place in town now—the Royal Bathhouse! I asked a friend in the underworld to check, and Song Dabao stayed there for three days before he went missing. He said he was going to talk to Brother Datong about a 200 million yuan deal for a thousand-year-old snow ginseng."

"And then?" Su Ming asked.

"And then I waited for you to come," Bao Dashan replied confidently.

Su Ming turned her head and looked at him: "Didn't you go in and ask?"

"What do you mean, 'what do you mean, 'what do you mean, 'what do you mean, 'what do you mean, 'what kind of person is Brother Datong? He's the living Yama of the underworld! I wouldn't risk my life for the little bit of money I get from Lao Song to guide me!'"

Su Ming glanced at Bao Dashan's profile and immediately understood the situation.

This guy... is even more of a braggart than Uncle Zhao. He talks a lot about being a big shot in the underworld, but he wouldn't even dare to step into a bathhouse.

"How much money did your employer transfer to you?" Su Ming asked casually.

Bao Dashan slammed on the brakes, his eyes darting around, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"Well... I can't say. It's standard practice, you know?"

Su Ming nodded. Given Song Jianguo's current state of burning incense all night, this so-called tour guide fee was probably outsourced and deducted layer by layer, and by the time it reached Bao Dashan, it might only amount to the cost of fuel.

"But brother! Don't worry!" Seeing that Su Ming didn't press the matter, Bao Dashan turned around and resumed his previous arrogant demeanor. He straightened his back, and his slicked-back hair gleamed under the car's overhead light.

"Brother! Remember this! In this black soil, as long as the money's right, you can find anyone!"

Bao Dashan slammed his hand on the steering wheel, making the car horn go off.

"Even if a wild Siberian tiger stood right in front of me, I'd still go up and give it a good beating!!"