Chapter 82: A Tiger Father with a Dog Son

TL: LittlePeach

The Chongqing Society is the largest Triad organization in all of Taiwan.

To dismiss them as a mere criminal syndicate would betray complete ignorance of the Chongqing Society's historical roots.

The chaotic 1950s, when the Republic of China's government, driven out by the Communist Party, was settling into Taiwan.

In those days, the Chongqing Society raked in cash by selling off relief supplies and penicillin pilfered from American military ports at steep prices, and it laundered gold bars for wealthy men who had fled the mainland, building itself a tight-knit web of connections.

"Father. I've picked out the letters that looked important. Please have a look."

"Hmm? Why so many?"

"The man celebrating his birthday is quite the figure, after all."

"If I sat here poring over all of these, my next birthday would come around before I finished. Never mind the contents; just read me off the names."

By the time the Society had moved its base to Taiwan for good, the island was land ruled by a chillingly ruthless dictatorship.

To dodge the merciless winds of the purges, the Chongqing Society, too, had to shed its old skin and pull on a new mask.

And so, with slush funds built from military supplies siphoned off the mainland Chinese warlords, the Chongqing Society built orphanages, kindergartens, and schools tailored to the Taiwanese military government's tastes, and offered them up.

Not content with that, it even established a respectable scholarship foundation, seeking out promising talents and sponsoring them without reserve; it was a lean era, their hard-earned money bleeding out as steadily as breath.

"Here, this one's from the Vice Minister of Finance. He writes to congratulate you on your birthday on the Minister's behalf."

"Is that the fellow they say is next in line?"

"Yes. He's confirmed as the next Minister of Finance."

"Then be sure to write him a reply, and call him yourself besides. And be certain to add my thanks for his consideration."

"Understood. And these are from officials in the Executive Yuan and the Ministry of Justice."

"Oh? Just send those back with a simple thank-you note each."

But what a wickedly fortunate return that tearful charity work has yielded today!

Now that Taiwan has passed through several changes of government and achieved democracy, the snot-nosed kids raised on the Chongqing Society's rice have planted themselves squarely in the key posts of the Taiwanese government.

A dozen or more members had been mobilized just to sort the flood of letters and messages congratulating Boss Jin Yao on his birthday.

Even the names of prominent, powerful officials among them were numerous enough to trip over.

"Quite a lot of gifts have come in as well. The warehouse is close to overflowing; what would you like done with them?"

"Whatever's worth money, dispose of as you see fit. At my age, shiny things hurt my eyes."

Thanks to that uncanny foresight, the Chongqing Society today enjoys the full protection of Taiwan's bureaucrats.

Hiding behind the respectable legal signboard of Taiwan's largest financial holding company, it reigns from the shadows as a colossal vested power that kneads Taiwanese society at will.

The organization pushes the political world forward from behind, and the political world serves as the organization's sturdy shield, a perfect symbiosis.

"This one's a letter from the boss of the Kowloon Society."

"Oh? Hand me just that one. Wasn't that old man about my age?"

"He is. But Father, what do you intend to do about Jin Hao? We can't just leave him in the Kowloon Society's hands like that."

Yet cracks had recently begun to spread through this fortress of an organization.

The cause was the health of its boss, Jin Yao.

Eighty years cannot be denied; in his old age, his body was crumbling faster with each passing day.

"What about Jin Hao? He seems to be doing just fine in Dandong."

"How is that doing fine? I hear he's living hunched over like a dead mouse, caught in the Kowloon Society's grip. The son of the Chongqing Society's boss, in name and blood, suffering that kind of disgrace in a foreign land... how long are we supposed to sit and watch?"

"So, what is it you want to do?"

"Take him back, obviously. As it happens, I've invited the Kowloon Society's Dandong branch chief to your birthday banquet. I intend to take her hostage and shake them by the throat."

Jin Yao glanced up, raising his wrinkled eyes to his eldest son, Jin Weiliang.

Concealing the deep, unfathomable workings of his mind, he snorted.

"At my own birthday banquet, instead of upholding my dignity, you'd make trouble with a guest in front of the whole world? That, I cannot allow."

At that, Jin Weiliang put on a soft, gracious smile.

"Do you truly take me for the sort who'd go causing a scene at your banquet, Father? Naturally, I'll handle it quietly. I'll escort her, politely, somewhere safe, and propose that she trade herself for Jin Hao."

"From what Ruixing tells me, the Kowloon Society's Dandong branch chief is a woman of formidable cunning. Drop your guard and you'll pay dearly, so you'd best be careful."

"She's a mere branch chief. Only someone raised like a hothouse flower, like Jin Hao, would be fool enough to fall for her. I'm different."

"We shall see. Ruixing's eye has never once been wrong."

Watching Jin Weiliang tilt his chin up in arrogance, Jin Yao recalled his own younger days.

At that age, he too had feared nothing in this world.

Brimming with killing intent, he had cut down every obstacle in his path and clawed his way up to this very seat.

"Well then. Handle it as you see fit. I won't stop you."

"Thank you, Father."

Through his son, now fully grown, Jin Yao would often see his own past self reflected.

But since when had it been?

The eyes with which he watched his son had slowly cooled into a calm disappointment.

"By the way, my son. There is one thing I would ask of you as a birthday present this year."

"A birthday present? Is there something you've been wanting? Just say the word. Whatever it is, I'll set it before your eyes."

At his father's request, Jin Weiliang smiled with easy confidence.

Jin Yao rubbed his sagging jaw and smacked his lips.

"It's kind of you to say so. For my birthday present, I would like to receive one promise from you."

"...A promise?"

Jin Weiliang closed his mouth, his expression puzzled.

He was just leaning in to listen, assuming it would be the usual predictable plea to ease his friction with Boss Ruixing, when...

"If you bring Jin Hao home, promise me you will not kill that boy."

"...."

In an instant, Jin Weiliang's expression froze stiff.

Then, as if gathering his thoughts, he put on a look of disbelief and manufactured a strained laugh.

"What is that supposed to mean, out of nowhere? Why would I kill him? Jin Hao and I share the same blood."

"You do, don't you? Brothers spilling each other's blood would never do."

"Of course not. I'm hardly some beast gone mad."

"Good. Then I'll trust you."

But Jin Yao's words did not end there.

"Even so, indulge an old man's worry and let me add one caution. If, by any chance, Jin Hao should die, the seat of boss of the Chongqing Society will pass to Boss Ruixing. During my lifetime or after it, makes no difference."

"...What did you say?"

"Don't make me say it twice. I said that if Jin Hao dies, the next boss of the Chongqing Society will be Ruixing. I've written my will and had it notarized by three expensively hired lawyers, so consider it settled."

"No, Father. What are you...."

Faced with a reality he had never imagined, Jin Weiliang's eyes twisted with an emotion they had never shown before.

He stepped in close to Jin Yao.

"What on earth are you saying? Do you truly believe I would kill Jin Hao?"

"Don't try to deceive me, my son. I know you well."

Jin Yao's eyes glinted sharply, as if piercing straight through to his son's inner thoughts.

Jin Weiliang shut his mouth, unable to meet that gaze.

"You go on about how unsightly it is, him held hostage and dancing in the Kowloon Society's palm; but the moment you get Jin Hao back, you'll look to remove him one way or another. Erasing the variable that is your own flesh and blood would be the easiest road for you to seize the Chongqing Society."

"...."

Jin Yao's eyes glinted sharply, as if piercing straight through his son's shallow scheming.

Grit.

Without realizing it, Jin Weiliang clenched his teeth.

Because just as his father said, once he had used Yang Mi-ryeong as a hostage to recover his brother, he meant to bury Jin Hao first of all, dressed up as an accident, the moment his father closed his eyes.

"You are a tiger's child. A tiger must act like a tiger; it must never act like a wildcat. Do that, and no one will fear the tiger any longer."

"...."

"I thought I had raised my child into a tiger. Was I wrong?"

"Father, that's...."

"Killing your powerless younger brother to take the seat the easy way is the shallow trick of a back-alley thug. If you are truly the timber to succeed me, do not run for the easy road."

Even dying, it seemed, a tiger was still a tiger.

His command to let the younger brother live.

It meant that he was not to take the Chongqing Society through the coward's work of stabbing a brother to death, but to climb the mountain himself and seize it.

"The mountain you must truly overcome is not Jin Hao. It is Boss Ruixing. Break him with your own full strength and force. Show me."

"...."

"That is what I want from you; the promise I wish to receive as my birthday present."

The tiger's seat, the seat of the Mountain Lord, is never simply given.

The towering mountain named Ruixing.

Fail to climb that mountain, and the mountain called the Chongqing Society could never be won.

As the true meaning sank in, Jin Weiliang's eyes trembled faintly.

"Will you promise me?"

"...."

"As my birthday present."

What his father wanted was all-out war with Ruixing.

Eyes lowered, Jin Weiliang drew a deep breath and nodded.

"...I will keep it close to heart. I will prove myself according to your will, Father."

"Good. My son, I am counting on you."

*****

The limousine was crossing a lonely stretch of national highway before I knew it.

We had entered a district of green plains and sweeping scenery, land that looked expensive at a single glance.

"Jin Weiliang sees Jin Hao as a thorn in his side, a potential stumbling block on his way to the next boss's seat. Nothing would gall him more than a faction opposed to him rallying around Jin Hao someday."

"Hm."

"That's exactly what worries Boss Jin Yao. Once his younger son is brought back from the Kowloon Hotel, Jin Weiliang might one day get rid of his own brother without a soul the wiser, all to cement his line of succession."

Only then did the scattered puzzle pieces roughly click into place.

But questions remained.

'Jin Hao, boss of the Chongqing Society?'

I hadn't watched him all that long, but the Jin Hao I knew was in no way boss material.

He was nothing but a spoiled brat of a gambling addict who'd bawled "Get Boss Yang Mi-ryeong out here!" through his tears over losing some money at the casino.

As I sat there chewing on that, the corner of Yang Mi-ryeong's mouth twitched upward.

"I think I know what you're thinking. The core of Jin Hao's faction isn't Jin Hao."

"Then who is it?"

"Boss Ruixing."

"Ah."

From there, Yang Mi-ryeong carried on with her explanation.

The boss of the Chongqing Society, Jin Yao, turns eighty this very birthday.

As he slowly aged and sickened, and the time to name a successor drew near, the factions inside the Chongqing Society split broadly in two.

The Militant Faction and the Aboveground Faction.

"The Militant Faction is centered on the eldest son, Jin Weiliang. The Aboveground Faction has rallied around the chief adviser, Boss Ruixing."

First, Boss Jin Weiliang.

He is the eldest son of the Chongqing Society's boss and its legitimate heir.

Building on the Society's name and capital, he had steadily grown businesses of his own, and his business instincts were so sharp that everything he touched turned a profit.

He had prowled through Southeast Asia and even the Chinese mainland, constructing large-scale smuggling routes on every front, and with the enormous cash he raked in through them, he naturally drew the organization's young enforcers to his side.

On the other side, Boss Ruixing.

"He is the boss of the Chongqing Society's scholarship foundation. From his youth, under Boss Jin Yao, he handled every one of the Society's aboveground ventures in Taiwan, the talent-development scholarship work that you could call the Society's very foundation, legitimate venture investments, all of it. Key figures in Taiwan's political and financial circles communicate with the Chongqing Society through him. He is, for all practical purposes, the Society's figurehead."

"Hm."

"Still hale, seasoned, with both the years and the composure to match, he's a man better suited to the next boss's seat than anyone alive."

The history the Chongqing Society had lived through since planting itself in Taiwan, its transformations, and the scholarship foundation born along the way.

All through her explanation, I couldn't help noticing that I seemed to be tilting my head an awful lot today.

"Would Boss Jin Yao really hand the boss's seat to someone who isn't even his own child?"

As I cocked my head, Yang Mi-ryeong smiled warmly, like a teacher with an inquisitive student.

"Publicly, Boss Ruixing is known to have no interest in the boss's seat. But his daughter, Lu Yangyang, is currently engaged to Jin Hao."

"Ah."

"That way, even if Boss Ruixing inherits the seat, it makes no difference at all. By the time he steps down, he'll be passing the seat on to his son-in-law, Jin Hao."

Every puzzle piece fell into place.

A few pieces were still missing, but none of them mattered much for sketching the overall picture.

In the end, the Militant Faction and the Aboveground Faction could never mix, no matter how hard anyone tried.

"We've arrived."

"Oh."

While we'd been chatting at our leisure, the limousine had pulled up to the entrance of an estate.

The limousine driver and the guards exchanged a few brief words, and before long the thick iron gates began to swing slowly open.

We passed through the wide-open gates and drove on, deeper inside.

Beyond the broad plain, in one corner, a beach of rolling waves came into view.

"Oho...."

Then, at some point, sprawling flowerbeds framing the roadway filled my eyes all at once.

Through the middle of grounds spanning acres upon acres ran a handsome garden and a road, and the car we rode in crossed along it.

It felt like driving up to a British royal villa.

"Anyway, once we're at the mansion, watch out for Jin Weiliang. Boss Jin Yao may welcome me warmly, but once Jin Weiliang's eyes go red, there's no telling what he might do."

"Then wouldn't it be better to bring weapons? If he shoves a gun in your face, there's nothing I'll be able to do for you."

At my question, Yang Mi-ryeong gave her head a light shake.

Her expression said I was worrying over nothing.

"You can't carry weapons inside Boss Jin Yao's mansion in the first place. The metal detectors are ruthlessly thorough. Not even the Chongqing Society's direct bloodline gets an exception."

"Hm."

If that was true, I could at least set aside the worry of getting shot.

As long as no bullets came flying from a distance, I could cover things at close range one way or another.

Screech.

As we talked at our leisure, we finally pulled up in front of the mansion.

"Come on. Let's go in together. First we'll pay our respects to Boss Jin Yao-nim, and...."

Yang Mi-ryeong was stepping out of the limousine, steadied on my arm, when it happened.

"Welcome, Boss Yang Mi-ryeong-nim."

At the unfamiliar man's voice, Yang Mi-ryeong went rigid.

When we turned our eyes, a man was striding toward us.

"Welcome. It must have been a long, weary road from Dandong."

"...I didn't expect you to come all the way out to the entrance to greet me."

"How could I sit idle when the Chongqing Society is receiving so honored a guest?"

Gentle eyes, a kindly look, a face wreathed in smiles as he approached.

Even at a glance, this was unmistakably Jin Weiliang.

The one man in this entire mansion we had to be most careful of.

He came flanked by several packs of bodyguards, all of them openly leaking a bloodthirsty air.

I first stole a glance at Yang Mi-ryeong's face.

'She didn't see this coming at all.'

Perhaps she hadn't imagined running into him out here in the open, rather than inside the party hall; Yang Mi-ryeong just kept her mouth pressed shut, her face rigid.

A flicker of unease was crossing her features, and in that instant...

"Now, this way, please. You need only come inside with me."

Caring nothing for our alarm, Jin Weiliang set the hulks behind him in motion, pressing in around Yang Mi-ryeong as if to hem her in.

I could see plain as day that it was a ploy to steer her somewhere secluded and detain her on her own.

I reached out at once and set my hand on Jin Weiliang's shoulder.

"Excuse me. My employer has a separate schedule to keep."

In that instant.

"Don't you dare lay hands on the Young Master."

The gorilla of a man who had been standing at Jin Weiliang's side like a shadow whipped around toward me.

Whoosh.

Thwack!

Without a word of warning, he drove his fist square into the middle of my face.

It was a fearsome punch that would have dropped most men out cold on the spot, and my neck snapped back a fraction.

Yang Mi-ryeong turned to me, her eyes gone round.

"...What?"

But as I stood there perfectly intact, not one bone in my neck broken, bewilderment flashed through the man's eyes.

I lifted my gaze and met his stare.

There was nothing more to weigh.

Hup.

Swinging hard from the hips, I whipped my fist up from below like a lash.

Crack!

"Guh!"

His jaw, wrenched clean out of line, hung half-askew and trembling.

The shock twisting up his spine sent the man staggering back several steps.

"You startled me. Is this how people say hello around here?"

"...."

At the wholly unexpected cross counter, the eyes of everyone who grasped what had just happened went round in an instant.

*****

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