On the round table in the little open-air courtyard, several home-cooked dishes had replaced Chow Sing Sing's pile of textbooks.
Cho Tat-wah did not know how long that stack of Hong Kong dollars was supposed to cover his and Chow Sing Sing's informant fees, so naturally, he had to budget carefully.
The food was hardly extravagant, but it was certainly not meager.
The three sat around the table, wolfing down their meal with gusto.
Chow Sing Sing and Cho Tat-wah in particular had already spent two evenings eating cart noodles.
If Cho Tat-wah had not still had an income, Chow Sing Sing would probably have gone hungry long ago.
After filling their bellies, the three put down their bowls and chopsticks and slumped back in their wicker chairs without a shred of decorum.
Not one of them had any intention of clearing up.
"Ah Tat, hurry up and clear the table."
Chow Sing Sing shot Cho Tat-wah a sly glance and made the first move. "Then make Sergeant Zhou a cup of tea."
Of the three present, Zhou Quan was currently in charge of his undercover assignment, while he himself was too lazy to move.
Naturally, he had to find a way to dump the chore of clearing the table on Cho Tat-wah.
Having just eaten his fill, Cho Tat-wah was clearly feeling lazy too.
"Hey! We're father and son now."
He curled his lip and remained firmly in place. "Since when does a son order his old man to do the housework?"
"For fuck's sake, I told you that's our cover story outside. It's not like Sergeant Zhou doesn't know our actual relationship."
Chow Sing Sing abruptly leaned forward, clenching his right fist and swinging it to his left as he threatened loudly, "Always playing dumb! Don't think I