Chapter 55: Killing the Heavens
Angel went out shopping and brought back a pair of Clarks leather shoes for Zhao Ziyang when she came back, but she couldn't find Zhao Ziyang.
"Luca, have you seen the special forces?" Angel asked the fox who was fiddling with a little white mouse in the house, holding her leather shoes.
Linghu concentrated on injecting half of Zhao Ziyang's blood into the little white mouse, then put the little white mouse in a cage. He then took off his gloves and looked at Angel.
"I saw him, but he went out. He must have gone to a Sichuan restaurant." Linghu said to Angel, and there was nothing wrong when facing Angel.
Angel nodded and walked out of the fox room.
"Huh?" Seeing the leather shoes in Angel's hand, the fox shouted in surprise, pointing at the shoes and saying, "British classic Clarks. Little Angel, you have good taste. The special forces will probably like them."
"I hope so." Angel didn't seem very happy because she didn't find Zhao Ziyang.
She wanted to give the pair of leather shoes to Zhao Ziyang as soon as possible, but she didn't find him, which made her feel a little uncomfortable.
Angel closed the door and walked out, while Linghu stretched out on the bed, holding her belly with both hands, muttering: "This baby may not have the best genes, should I keep it or not? Well, if it really doesn't work, then don't give it up. The special forces soldier also drank alcohol..."
Linghu had no thought of feeling sorry for Angel. Her definition was very clear: science was supreme, and everything she did was only in the service of science.
As for Zhao Ziyang, who sobered up, he went to the Sichuan restaurant again and asked Zhao Zhengrong to drink. He was in a very depressed mood and felt a little confused. The most important thing was that he felt that he could not face Angel and Linghu anymore, but he could not think of a solution. He could only drink with Zhao Zhengrong to relax.
"Brother, are you troubled by something?" Zhao Zhengrong, who was an experienced person, saw at a glance what Zhao Ziyang was troubled about.
Because the three words "Peach Blossom Festival" were engraved on Zhao Ziyang's forehead. Of course, this could not be seen, but Zhao Zhengrong guessed it from his words and actions.
Zhao Ziyang did everything without hesitation. Just like seeking revenge on the defenders, he did it right away and directly destroyed half of the defenders' base. The only thing that could make him upset to the point of not knowing what to do was the relationship between men and women. This was his first time encountering it and he had no experience.
Usually, the more manly a man is, the weaker he is emotionally; he is not good at this.
Zhao Ziyang shook his head, took a sip of white wine and said nothing.
This expression told Zhao Zhengrong that he didn't want to say it.
Seeing that Zhao Ziyang refused to speak, Zhao Zhengrong did not continue to ask, and accompanied Zhao Ziyang to drink one glass after another. Zhao Changzheng stood beside him obediently, and when he saw that the two people's glasses were empty, he quickly filled them up.
He knew that his father was not a weak father at all, but a powerful father who would kill for himself at any time. Yesterday, he eavesdropped on the conversation between his father and Zhao Ziyang, and then he knew what his father should be like.
"Go, close the door." Zhao Zhengrong ordered his son to close the door. The noisy guests made him feel uncomfortable drinking.
Zhao Changzheng immediately put down the wine bottle and went to take care of this matter. After a while, he sent away the remaining two tables of guests and hung the closing sign on the door.
In the middle of the night, it was Zhao Ziyang who accompanied Zhao Zhengrong to drink, and in the afternoon, it was Zhao Zhengrong who accompanied Zhao Ziyang to drink.
When Zhao Ziyang was in high spirits, he took off his coat, revealing his strong body in a black vest. His skin was very good, with a faint glow on the surface, which made girls envious.
All the scars from his time in the army and some time ago disappeared without a trace, just like a snake shedding its skin.
The jet-black Nepalese machete was inserted diagonally into Zhao Ziyang's lower back, moving with his body movements, releasing a cold breath in the air.
"Brother, let me have a look at your knife." Zhao Zhengrong put down his wine glass and pointed at Zhao Ziyang's Nepalese machete.
“Buzz…”
The sound of a blade breaking through the air was heard, and Zhao Ziyang slammed the saber on the table, motioning Zhao Zhengrong to look at it casually.
"Good knife!" Zhao Zhengrong praised it highly.
Just now, the saber just swung slowly through the air and made such a sound, which was enough to show the difference of this saber.
Holding the saber in his hand, Zhao Zhengrong felt the feeling the saber conveyed to him: cold, bloodthirsty, and irritable under calmness.
This is a living knife, because its blade has been infiltrated by the blood of countless lives, and finally formed into such a fierce knife. Anyone who holds it will have a killing urge in his heart, and can't wait to find someone to try it.
"It's a good knife, but it's too lethal." Zhao Zhengrong stroked the blade and nodded, saying, "This saber was made by the Gurkhas using traditional craftsmanship. The material used is refined iron that has been tempered a hundred times."
"What is refined iron?" Zhao Ziyang asked Zhao Zhengrong.
"Hundred-refined iron is iron that has been hammered a hundred times. The impurities in this iron are almost completely removed, which is unmatched by any alloy. But now no one is willing to spend a lot of manpower and material resources to forge a piece of hundred-refined iron, and then use the hundred-refined iron to make an almost impossible knife." Zhao Zhengrong gently waved the Nepalese army knife and squinted his eyes and continued: "Hundred-refined iron is almost useless, because few people can hammer such a piece of impurity-free iron into a knife."
Zhao Ziyang understood this principle. After removing impurities, the density of refined iron was very high. The density of refined iron after hundreds of times of hammering was imaginable. The high density proved that it was hard. Even if you hit it with a hammer hundreds of times, it would only slightly change the shape of this piece of refined iron.
"If I'm not mistaken, this knife is not yours."
"Yes, this knife is not mine." Zhao Ziyang nodded, stared into Zhao Zhengrong's eyes and said to him: "I want to re-melt it."
It is obvious that Zhao Zhengrong is someone who understands knives. Even if he himself cannot forge one, he knows someone who can. This can be heard from what he said just now.
"It's time to re-melt it. " Zhao Zhengrong pushed the knife in front of Zhao Ziyang and said to him very seriously: "After melting, the smell of this knife will disappear, and the newly formed one will be yours."
"Help me forge it into a three-edged spike." Zhao Ziyang pushed the knife in front of Zhao Zhengrong again.
A bitter smile appeared on Zhao Zhengrong's face. He really didn't have the ability to forge a three-edged thorn after melting such a knife. The three-edged thorn was poured out, not hammered out, but there are ways to hammer out, but Zhao Zhengrong couldn't hammer out a three-edged thorn.
"Brother, I don't have the ability to forge it into a triangular spike. I can cast it into a triangular spike, but it won't be perfect." Zhao Zhengrong told the truth.
"Okay!" Zhao Ziyang nodded vigorously and said to Zhao Zhengrong, "Pour it into a three-edged thorn. I want a three-edged thorn with a three-edged blood groove inside a blood groove."
The three edges of the triangular thorn already formed three large blood grooves, and Zhao Ziyang wanted to open six more blood grooves on the six sides of the three edges, turning the already ferocious triangular thorn into a standard killing weapon.
It doesn’t matter whether it is perfect or not. A knife is used to kill people. A knife that can kill people is a good knife. If a knife is too perfect, it is not a good thing.
"Okay!" Zhao Zhengrong agreed immediately and carefully put away the Nepalese machete.
Just at this moment, the door of the Sichuan restaurant was pushed open, and an old man with silver hair and wearing a Tang suit and leaning on a cane walked in.
The old man's back is not hunched, on the contrary it is very straight. His face is full of wrinkles, but also rosy He is an old man who gives people the feeling of longevity wherever he goes.
"Dad!" The moment he saw the old man, Zhao Zhengrong stood up quickly, trotted over and supported the old man who didn't need any support.
"Grandpa!" Zhao Changzheng shouted happily, and ran over. He and Zhao Zhengrong supported the old man on both sides.
This is Zhao Zhengrong’s old father, the old man who wrote the word “Tao”, and one of the few remaining national treasures in the country.
Zhao Ziyang quickly stood up, bowed slightly and greeted the old man.
“Haha, sit down, sit down, don’t be restrained, haha…” The old man raised his hand and asked Zhao Ziyang to sit down. He shook off Zhao Zhengrong beside him and sat in front of Zhao Ziyang with the support of his grandson.
The old man who sat down looked at Zhao Ziyang with kind eyes, examined him carefully with his cloudy eyes, and nodded continuously.
"Old senior." Zhao Ziyang called the old man, wondering in his heart why Zhao Changzheng's grandfather suddenly came?
“Hahahaha…” The old man laughed loudly. He pointed at Zhao Ziyang and said, “I like this name. When you call me like this, it makes me understand how I have been living for most of my life. Hahahaha…”
For the old revolutionaries who had gone through the bloody storm, those days were something they were proud of, even though they were eventually labeled rightists and locked up in a cowshed to be criticized and struggled against.
Zhao Ziyang laughed along, thinking about how to open the topic. But when he was thinking about how to start the conversation, the old man spoke directly.
"The Chairman told us that we should treat our enemies as ruthlessly as autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves, and treat our comrades as warmly as spring. We should unite with all friends we can; the enemy of our enemy will always be our friend."
What the old man said was right, and Zhao Ziyang was very clear about it. He knew that the old man came here specifically for him, and it seemed that his purpose was already known to the old man.
"Yes, I have been doing this, but the current situation is a bit..."
"After the enemy is knocked down, you must knock him down before his enemy's enemy can react." The old man waved his hand and continued to Zhao Ziyang: "Remember one thing, guerrilla warfare. Looking at any war in the world, only guerrilla warfare cannot be defeated. Because they are flexible and changeable, the enemy is confused, but you must remember that the ultimate goal of guerrilla warfare is to wear down the enemy in guerrilla warfare, force them to give up, and then complete the occupation. There are not many large-scale wars now, and guerrilla warfare is the best tactic in any area."
Guerrilla warfare, can mercenaries also fight guerrilla warfare?
Zhao Ziyang was thinking that their lurkers were now fighting a guerrilla war, but this kind of guerrilla warfare was difficult to fight because they did not belong to any country. No matter how good your guerrilla warfare was, it could not withstand the political needs of a certain country.
Politics is changeable. If a country wants to expel them, they have to get out of the country. The state machinery is not something they can contend with, even in a very small country, because the other side has a broad mass base.
Seeing Zhao Ziyang's frown, the old man smiled, dipped his finger in white wine and wrote two words on the table, then stood up and prepared to leave.
"My little grandson loves fighting and killing since he was young. He has the same personality as me and his father. If possible, I hope you can keep him by your side." The old man said to Zhao Ziyang, and pulled Zhao Changzheng, who was beside him with a look of surprise, to the front.
Zhao Ziyang didn't pay attention to the two words the old man wrote. He was shocked by what he said.
"Old senior, you should know my identity. Our lives are not guaranteed. Why don't you send Chang Zheng to serve in the country as a soldier? That can also train him." Zhao Ziyang expressed his doubts.
"Alas..." The old man sighed deeply, pointed at the word "Tao" he had written and said to himself: "Tao, if there really is Tao, why would I need to write it?"
After saying this, the old man's back suddenly hunched over, and he walked out step by step with the help of a cane and disappeared into the crowd on the street.
Zhao Zhengrong sent his old father away with his eyes, looked at Zhao Ziyang, then looked at Zhao Changzheng, and suddenly shouted sternly: "Kneel down!"
With a "thump", Zhao Changzheng fell to his knees and knelt directly in front of Zhao Zhengrong.
Zhao Zhengrong was tutoring his child, and Zhao Ziyang had no right to interfere and could only stand aside and watch.
"From today on, I will no longer care about anything you do. From now on, your path is your own. After you leave, you will no longer be called Zhao Changzheng. You will be called Luo Xiaoxiong."
"Yes!" Zhao Changzheng answered with his chest puffed out and his head raised, his eyes filled with determination and excitement.
Zhao Ziyang became a completely passive person. He remembered that he had not yet promised Zhao Zhengrong to take Zhao Changzheng away, but it seemed that he had to take Zhao Changzheng away.
He and Zhao Zhengrong did not have a very deep relationship, but the two words that Mr. Zhao gave her forced him to take Zhao Changzheng away.
puppet!
The word "puppet" left by Mr. Zhao instantly made Zhao Ziyang's mind clear.
Puppet does not refer to things like overthrowing the government as mercenaries often do, but to interfere in a country's government and control it to make it a puppet government.
This is a gamble with one's life at stake. If one is not careful, one will be hit hard by various countries. Once mercenaries intervene in the political field, it is equivalent to crossing the line. Mercenaries who cross the line will not be tolerated by governments and will be killed.
But the lurkers are no longer afraid of anything and are already at loggerheads with the U.S. government. Do they still need to consider whether to cross the line or not?
What Mr. Zhao plays is Tao, the Tao of killing and destruction!
