20demayo Chapter 45: The Mad Dog Group Takes Action
Chapter 45: The Mad Dog Group Takes Action
The two women seemed to think they had misheard.
A month ago, Wenzai was so down on his luck that he had to borrow money even when he had a fever, but now he says he has opened a factory.
But when Song Zhaowen spoke, the two women felt as if they had misheard him.
A month ago, Wenzai was so down on his luck that he had to borrow money even when he had a fever, but now he says he has opened a factory.
But Song Zhaowen's words have a strange magic that makes people believe him.
"As for accommodation," Song Zhaowen continued, "the factory has dormitories. They're simple, but clean and safe. Amin can transfer to a nearby school."
"Leaving here is the only right choice for you."
These words were so overwhelming that Luo Huiling couldn't process them all at once. Moving to Tin Shui Wai? Working in Song Zhaowen's factory? Living in a dormitory? This... this was like a dream.
"Ah Wen... this... how can we accept this?" Luo Huiling said with difficulty, "You've already helped us a lot, we can't trouble you any further..."
"It's not a hassle," Song Zhaowen interrupted her, his tone indifferent. "I have to pay people too. It's better to hire someone you know well than someone you don't. You're reliable and hardworking, so I trust you."
This statement was quite considerate of the three Fang daughters' feelings.
Recalling the nonchalant tone he had used when mentioning Ding Yixie, and how easily he had rescued his sister from Ding Yixie… this neighbor brother was probably not as simple as he seemed. Going to his factory might really be a way out, at least a temporary escape from the clutches of the Ding family.
"Sister Luo is in charge of kitchen and dormitory cleaning, and her monthly salary is 1,800 yuan. If you're willing, you can start on the assembly line or learn quality inspection, depending on your abilities and interests. The starting salary is 2,000 yuan per month, and it will increase if you do well. Dormitory is free, and utilities are shared. Three meals a day are provided by the factory."
In late 1980s Hong Kong, this was considered a very generous offer for working-class women like them, especially since it included accommodation, which saved them a lot of money.
Luo Huiling and Fang Ting exchanged a glance, both seeing excitement and hesitation in each other's eyes.
"You can take your time to consider it." Song Zhaowen stood up. "There's no rush to answer. Amin's leg needs a few days of rest. In the meantime, I'll have my men keep an eye on the area. If Ding Yixie dares to come again, someone will notify me."
"And for the next few days, lock the door at night and don't go out unless necessary."
After saying that, he opened the door and disappeared into the dimly lit corridor.
The door closed, and the room fell silent.
After a long while, Luo Huiling finally let out a long breath, touched Fang Min's hair, and then looked at Fang Ting: "Ting... what do you think?"
Fang Ting walked to the window, lifted a corner of the faded curtain, and watched Song Zhaowen's departing figure disappear into the deep night.
"Aunt Luo, I think... we have no choice."
Song Zhaowen did not return to his old house next door; he had moved out of the public housing since he took office.
If someone has money and still lives in this place, they must be mentally ill.
"Ah Wen, we found out about that bastard who was harassing your girl earlier. He's just a petty thug who organized some kind of Chung Ching Society. They're holed up near the fruit market in Yau Ma Tei. Ding Yixie is the second-in-command of the Chung Ching Society."
"Yeah, call Wu Zhaoyong's Mad Dog Group out to do the job. There's no need for scum like him to waste food in this world."
"Awen, I understand."
Song Zhaowen isn't that generous. Would anyone dare harass the girl he's set his sights on? They'd be drowning fish in the sea!
Oilseed Road, Fruit Market.
Ding Yixie sat slumped on a peeling, tattered sofa, half his face swollen like a steamed bun, with dried blood still clinging to the corner of his mouth. A skinny henchman was cautiously treating his facial wounds with a cotton swab dipped in mercurochrome.
"Ouch, take it easy, you piece of trash." Ding Yixie slapped the henchman's hand away, which aggravated the injury on his face, making him wince in pain. "Damn it, Song Zhaowen is dead... I'll curse your ancestors for eighteen generations."
He was furious when his girlfriend was stolen away, and he got a beating without even knowing who the other woman was. He grabbed a half-empty bottle of beer and took a big gulp. The alcohol stung his loose teeth and cracked lip, causing another wave of pain.
"Pah!" He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva.
"Brother Crab, calm down..." Another henchman came over and offered a cigarette: "The doctor said your injury will take a few days to heal..."
"Raise my ass!" Ding Yixie shoved the cigarette away, his eyes bloodshot with anger and humiliation. "I've never suffered such a loss in my entire life! To be beaten like this in the street, and... and I even wet my pants." He squeezed the last few words out between his teeth; this was an utter disgrace.
He glanced around at the dejected, wounded henchmen in the room, and his anger flared even more: "A bunch of useless trash! Three of you with knives couldn't even handle one unarmed fighter! What use are you to me?!"
The henchmen didn't dare to utter a sound, but they secretly felt wronged—it wasn't that they "couldn't handle" them, they were taken down before they could even react, the other party's skills were simply inhuman.
"Investigate! Investigate for me!" Ding Yixie panted heavily, poking at the air with his finger. "Find out who that damn bastard is! Where does he live? Who does he associate with? I want to know everything about his ancestors for eighteen generations within a day!"
"And another thing!" Ding Yixie's eyes flashed with lewdness and resentment: "Those few stinking women from the Fang family, especially that little bitch Fang Min... keep a close eye on them. Once I've recovered from my injuries, I'll see how I deal with them; damn it, they won't listen to reason, so they'll have to suffer the consequences..."
As he was cursing and plotting his revenge, three light knocks came from the heavy iron door to the basement.
Everyone in the room was stunned for a moment. This place was their secret hideout, known to few, and their own people never knocked before entering.
"Who is it?" one of the henchmen near the door shouted impatiently as he walked over. "What are you knocking for? You looking for trouble?"
no answer.
Three more "thumps, thumps, thumps"—exactly the same.
The henchman cursed, then abruptly pulled back the latch, opening the iron gate a crack: "Hey, you motherfucker..."
His words came to an abrupt halt.
There was one person standing outside the door. No, there were several. But the henchman who opened the door was immediately drawn to the one at the very front.
The man was not tall, but he had a burly frame, like a leopard poised to pounce.
He wore a rough, handmade wooden mask with a ferocious dog's head carved on it, its fangs bared and its eyes fierce.
The mask only revealed the eyes and mouth. In the dim light, the eyes were calm and undisturbed, yet they sent chills down one's spine.
"Damn, dressing up as a ghost to scare people in the middle of the night?"
The person wearing the dog-head mask didn't speak, but simply raised his hand and gently pushed against the iron gate.
The heavy iron door, as if made of paper, crashed open with the henchman who opened it! The henchman screamed as he was slammed against the wall by the door and slid down limply.
"Fuck you! Who are you?!" Ding Yixie and his henchmen inside the house were all shocked and stood up, grabbing the machetes and iron bars around them.