Although Wan Delu did not know Yang Jian, he knew this was no ordinary person. During the security check before boarding, he had seen it with his own eyes: the moment this young man passed through security, even the airport officials and nearby special personnel had gathered around him.
The reason was simple: he was carrying firearms, and more than one.
If it had been an ordinary person, they would probably have spent the rest of their life in prison. Yet this man had been allowed through, even permitted to bring his luggage onto the plane.
Looking at the black carry-on bag by Yang Jian's feet, Wan Delu was certain there were weapons inside.
He was not surprised that someone had connections to obtain weapons, but being able to swagger through airport security and board a plane with them was another matter entirely. It meant he had official permission to carry them aboard, and most likely even the authority to carry guns—and he had achieved that at such a young age.
The more Wan Delu thought about it, the more terrifying it became.
Perhaps this big shot from Dachang City was not bluffing after all. It was very likely true.
On that basis alone, Wan Delu felt that making friends with him was more important than earning several hundred million.
"Brother, how about I treat you to a meal after we get off the plane? It's fate that we met on a flight. I hope Brother Leg will honor me with his presence."
Wan Delu said with a genial smile. A man in his forties or fifties calling a youngster under twenty "Brother Leg" over and over made it seem as though he was currying favor.
It looked somewhat embarrassing, but he did not care. What business could a man