094. It Is All Money (Third Update!)

When a foul-smelling travel bag was slammed onto the airline counter, the blonde woman, who was plainly not a local, instinctively pinched her nose.

“Sir, may I ask how I can help you?”

“Help? No, no, no. I do not need help. Tell your customer service manager that if you can get this thing to this address within ten days, then this money is yours.”

With a sharp slap, a thick bundle of cash was thrown onto the smooth glass counter.

Just by the thickness of it, there had to be at least one hundred thousand dollars inside.

This was no small business.

Elisa and Shi Junqiang, standing behind the old Russian, were left somewhat dumbfounded by his trick for deceiving people. It was rare to see anyone with a gun tucked at his waist sending a parcel through an air freight company, especially when the parcel was nothing but money.

They had already seen Nicolas taking money out of the bag earlier, so their astonishment was easy to imagine. Carrying such a huge sack of cash all the way out of Misrata was, as expected, not something an ordinary man could do.

“Sorry, sir. We are unable to accept international express shipments at the moment.”

The female clerk clearly wanted the money, but her position was probably not high enough to take it. With the civil war in Libya raging, and the Americans having just completely shattered the government forces’ offensive in Misrata, the rebels were not faring well either.

Not long ago, Khamis had officially declared the United States one of Libya’s unwelcome nations and stated that the Libyan government forces would defend the country’s territory to the death. War escalation was therefore inevitable.

As the rear area of the Libyan civil war, Tripoli was undoubtedly facing an even more terrifying threat of war. Yet that plainly did not affect the activities of certain special people, such as the company called Stenson International Air Freight. On the surface it was an air cargo company, but in reality it was a shipping agency that served mercenaries exclusively.

Nicolas’s finding this place was of course no accident.

So when he took out the little black card in his hand, the clerk immediately smiled, nodded, and made a phone call in a language none of them could understand at all.

Before long, a middle-aged white man emerged from the corridor at the back. He looked utterly ordinary, but in the eyes of veterans like Nicolas and Shi Junqiang, it was obvious at a glance that he was anything but simple.

“Come with me.”

Carrying the parcel stuffed with U.S. dollars, they followed the white man into what looked like a very upscale reception room.

“Nicolas! Who are they?”

An acquaintance.

Shi Junqiang and Elisa watched in some surprise as the old Russian embraced the white man.

“This is my old friend, Pearson!”

“This is Elisa! And Shi!”

“They’re with me!”

The white man named Pearson nodded, seeming not the least bit surprised.

“Nicolas, what about your mission? If you have not completed it, you know the consequences.”

Mission?

Hearing the words from the white man, Shi Junqiang and Elisa were both a little puzzled, but they quickly guessed that it must have something to do with the reason the old Russian had appeared in Misrata this time.

“Pearson, there are still six months before the deadline. I think you should be asking me that in December, not now. What I need you to do is send this thing to this address!”

Nicolas moved quickly, tearing off a slip of note paper and writing down an address before handing it to Pearson. But the white man took it, glanced once, and immediately furrowed his brow.

“China?”

Pearson looked genuinely surprised, even somewhat hesitant.

If it were anywhere else in the world, he could easily, or at least without too much difficulty, get the item to its destination. But China was not one of those places.

It was not that they could not deliver there, but that he did not know what exactly Nicolas’s parcel contained. China’s customs inspections were extremely strict, and any slight mistake could expose the entire operation.

“Yes, China. Any problem?”

“Sorry, Nicolas, China is outside our line of business. However, I can introduce someone to you—”

China.

Deep in the southwest of Ha County, South River Province.

When Li Changjiang opened his eyes, the sky had not yet fully brightened, but that did not stop him from faintly hearing the distant rumble in his ears, along with the occasional stab of lingering dread.

It had already been eight days.

Since returning home eight days ago, he had hardly slept a single peaceful night. The crack of gunfire and the thunder of explosions lingered by his ears for a long time without fading. It was, clearly, a kind of aftereffect brought on by war.

Pulling on a loose T-shirt, Li Changjiang went out and ran laps along the narrow path in front of the house toward the river at the end of the village. Along the way, whenever he met villagers, he merely nodded.

Lao San’s boy, Changjiang, was back!

More than that, he even seemed to have become smarter!

This had become the fastest-spreading piece of gossip in Stone-Li Village over the past few days.

Two days later.

A courier company in town suddenly delivered a tightly sealed parcel to the village. After Li Changjiang hurried home from outside, he saw his parents and his younger sister, Li Ke, gathered around the package, all looking a little worried.

“Dad! Mom! A friend sent this to me!”

Li Changjiang’s expression was normal. He naturally knew what was inside, but he did not want his parents to know or get involved.

The parcel was full of money.

A large amount of U.S. dollars, still carrying the smell of printing ink.

If he had not seen it with his own eyes, Li Changjiang would hardly have believed that the old Russian truly had the means to have so much cash couriered directly to his doorstep. This was by no means merely a matter of having connections; without immense power, it would be nearly impossible even to cross the border.

“Dad, Mom, I’m going to the provincial capital tomorrow. When I came back last time, I left something there.”

He mentioned it over dinner, but to his surprise, what should have been a trivial matter became a major event in the ears of his father, Li Lin, and his mother, Liu Fen.

“To the provincial capital? You’ve only been home a few days! Can’t it wait? What is it? Let your father bring it back for you.”

Li Lin even nodded.

Seeing their expressions, Li Changjiang understood.

His parents had been bitten by a snake once and now feared every well rope for ten years. The pain and sorrow of losing a son was not something ordinary people could bear; only those who had lost once knew its worth.

Li Changjiang fell silent.

This method was obviously not going to work. But he quickly thought of another way.

“Dad, before I came back to China, did Liu Bo come here? Liu Bo, the reporter from Xinhua News Agency.”

“Liu Bo?”

Li Lin muttered the name a few times, uncertain.

Liu Bo had indeed come, but at the time Li Changjiang had just returned home, and Liu Fen had also been in a state of overwhelming grief, so they had not paid any attention to the name at all.

“Brother, the person you mentioned came by. There’s still something he left at home. I’ll get it for you!”

Li Ke quickly darted into the house and came back carrying a small black leather case. A thick layer of dust lay on it, and at a glance it was clear it had been sitting there for quite some time.

Li Changjiang took it, opened it with some puzzlement, and immediately frowned.

Inside the case was not anything else, but money again. A thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, roughly enough at a glance to come to nearly one hundred thousand yuan.