At the center of Pinecone Farm stood a lavish manor.
Standing in the manor's study, the farm owner Zhao Tiangan held a pair of binoculars and stared unblinkingly out the window. His gaze passed over rows upon rows of densely packed houses before settling on the trading post by the perimeter wall.
Six trucks were parked there, surrounded by convoy guards and mercenaries, with a ring of fully armed soldiers outside them.
Wu Wenzhou, who had stepped down from one of the trucks, was speaking with an officer who had come forward to question him. Soon, several soldiers carrying LD-47 assault rifles approached and dragged a number of wooden crates off the trucks.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and used a crowbar to pry open the crates one by one, revealing gleaming yellow bullets and neatly stacked rifles inside.
Those were exactly the goods he needed.
At that sight, Zhao Tiangan finally broke into a radiant smile and set the binoculars down on the table beside him.
Almost at the same moment, there came a knock at the door behind him.
In a good mood, Zhao Tiangan casually said,
"Come in."
The door opened.
His butler walked in.
"Yang He's caravan has returned. As per your instructions, he exchanged the silver coins they earned for military supplies..."
Ma Zhongxian reported respectfully, his gaze involuntarily falling upon the table beside his master and the open window.
He understood at once.
Before he had reported it, his master had already seen it.
With a smug smile on his face, Zhao Tiangan said unhurriedly,
"I knew Mr. Yang was a smart man. As expected, he was merely delayed on the road. We nearly wronged a good man."
Ma Zhongxian gave a slight nod.
"There is one more matter, regarding... Apostle Zhang Zhengyang."