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Two people walk into a bar - stop me if you’ve already heard this one. Two people but there are three of them and it’s not a bar. It’s a shabby restaurant or tea shop, barely more than someone’s backyard. Low tables arranged under the roof and some stacked on the side so the owner wouldn’t miss out on earnings if more people walked in. A layer of dust has settled on top of them.
Two people walk into the bar, it could be said, a couple walks into the restaurant. He is so elegant, he could look out of place, the watch and it’s mostly the watch, it’s a good watch, everyone can tell, a solid but not a flashy one, and then cufflinks, tailored pants, sleek haircut and shining shoes in the dirt. But he doesn’t look out of place and his shoes don’t get dirty. He settles on a chair by one of the tables and he looks comfortable. He is matched in elegance (and with the two-block haircut they are both wearing) by his partner. She is dressed in a way that suggests a certain level of formality is required in both of their clothing - a level of elegance that usually comes from a certain level of wealth - but the way they are dressed is not restricted. Dress pants but they end above her knees, a vest and her hair is up high in a bun that’s only elaborate enough to differentiate it from a style one would wear to the gym. They don’t look at the other guests whose eyes are following them for they surely must know it. What to look for? They are surely used to it.
‘Waiter!’ he calls and an old man with bent back appears, smearing grease on the kitchen towel tucked into his apron. The owner of the restaurant, actually, those familiar with the place could add. This couple is not from this town.
‘What kind of meat can you prepare?’ The waiter has to choose between answering “whatever you request, sir” and then having to eat his words in order to let his guests eat or risk that the answer he starts with will prove to be inadequate in the eyes of his worldly guests. ‘Ah, Qiu-jie, in this simple inn, let’s not even talk about fresh shrimp or four dry fruits, four fresh fruits, not go on. We can only order half a plate of mutton liver and beef ribs with chives.’ For the waiter, calling these dishes simple was already astonishing. ‘Do you have any good liquor?’ Two people walk into a bar, I said.
‘Fine, ruin your health, is that any of my concern. But do you dare to make your wife worry?’
‘My bodyguard here is very strict, she often reminds me of my wife’s wishes.’ Ignoring the grumbled ‘not your bodyguard’, he finishes their order and the waiter hurried away to alert the kitchen and send his grandson to buy ingredients.
These fine people with their expensive watch and expensive tastes, they stop in this little town to have lunch in their only inn and expect to be served with the abundance in ingredients and skill they are used to. They might be deluding themselves with ideas of the countryside, tales of hospitality and the beautiful landscape.
The gentleman crosses his legs and leans back on his chair. His view is restricted to a dusty courtyard, chicken picking the sunflower shells out of the dust. The owner’s daughter-in-law serves wine to a group of aunties stacking tiles on their table as pretense to come together and brag about their children, they graduated school, they are working in the city, they are sending money home. Three men, their hands don’t tremble so much that it would spill the liquor from their cup. The other tables are occupied by workers, of the factory and farmhands, save for a married couple. This is the only restaurant of the town if one wants to go out, with no other options, at least this is close and cheap. For entertainment, they brought a box of bonbons. The husband places a bonbon in his wife’s mouth.
The elegant woman turns away with a frown, the remark she makes to her partner cannot be heard and is barely seen. He snorts.
It is not the restaurant owner who comes to their table the next time, but the woman who served the aunties. Her hair is cut in the way the people here associate with the city. She places cups on their table.
The man pours tea for his partner, leaning over, he stays in her space even as he places the pot down. He has a hand on her knee and even as she is turned away, she doesn’t push his hand off.
‘Bear with it, Qiu-jie, I will take you on a trip after this, just me and my wife, you and your husband.’ The woman groans in response like someone who has received useless promises before.’Where do you want to go? You won’t even have to watch my back. I will make you fine tea, real fine tea. We can climb mountains during the day and go swimming at nighttime.’
The woman barely appears to be listening, it’s not her who speaks.
‘Mister, if you want to know how to treat your lady right, you have to listen to me.’
The waiter was still hovering by their table.
Mu Nihuang wasn’t worried about Mei Changsu’s health regarding this operation.
‘You can’t go alone, it’s too dangerous. She already knows you well enough.’
Mei Changsu didn’t raise his eyes from the folders he was looking through.
'Is her knowing me a tool she can use or a weapon we can turn against her?'
A kick landed on his side. Only enough to jostle his arm holding the papers.
‘Brother Mei thinks that his arrogance can defeat the intelligence gathering of the Hong xiu zhao. Do you think if you will it, the wind will stop blowing, too?'
Mei Changsu made a face at the person sitting in Mu Nihuang’s lap as if considering trying it.
'It is worth trying.'
He turns the folders towards them as if they aren't already familiar with their content.
'Their reach is so wild, even at this town with only one restaurant, you cannot expect tales of hospitality and beautiful landscapes but their illegal activities. Their contact must be one of the relatives of the restaurant owner.’
‘So you want to walk in there and announce that Mei Changsu wants to do business with Qin Banruo?’
He shakes his head.
‘These people might not know Mei Changsu. They can probably identify two fine people with expensive tastes, dressed in a way that suggests a certain level of formality is required. If they are waiting for bored reach people, we cannot disappoint their expectations.’
He caught the ankle that kicked him just now between his two hands.
‘Dong-jie, would you like to go out with me? Two people walk into a bar.’
‘You don’t even drink.’ That’s Mu Nihuang’s only comment.
Mei Changsu glances back at the folders in front of him.
‘Is that in her files?’
Xia Dong snorts.
‘This kind of entertainment you are talking about. Can you really arrange it?’ The woman is sipping her tea indifferently as her husband is listening intently to the waiter on her other side.
‘Would I have said anything if I couldn’t?’
‘Then show us some sincerity. Tell us about the logistics of running such a business.’
There are dozens of pages written to the full with notes on her desk.
“Briefly, about the background: Hong xiu zhao, our target is a group specializing in the acquiring and selling of classified information, theft from private collections and blackmail. Their network involves pity criminal activities, too. We have contacted one such a point in the network, a small restaurant. We are currently waiting to see if Qin Banruo will take a note of our approach and contact us. We learned more about how their network operates and how the information travels through it. Usually, people don’t know what kind of information Banruo is looking for, but they must relay everything in as much detail as possible. Therefore, even without our names, we had to be recognisable enough.”
“And me and my wife went there to be exactly what they expect us to be.”
Xia Dong looks like the kind of person ho would punctuate her sentence with punches if she was in a fight. It is rather Nie Duo and Mu Nihuang who say something.
“My wife,’ they say at the same time.
Two people walk into a bar, they said, and they walked out with all the information they needed.