Customs' "Show of Force"
The shuttle bus took Lin Feng and Lü Yi to the entrance of the international arrivals hall. Unlike the deserted private helipad, this place was instantly overwhelmed by a surging crowd, the cacophony of various languages, and the mixed smell of disinfectant and anxiety.
A huge electronic screen scrolls through flight information. Passengers of different skin colors and attire drag their suitcases, looking either tired or excited, heading towards their respective destinations—going home or starting a new journey.
Lin Feng's expression remained unchanged, as if the surrounding noise had nothing to do with him. Lü Yi, on the other hand, frowned slightly, seemingly unaccustomed to the crowded and noisy environment. She subconsciously took a half-step closer to Lin Feng, her eyes scanning the surroundings warily.
According to the signs, they needed to go to the "Visitor / All Passports" lane. Compared to the adjacent "United States Citizens / United States Passports" lane, this one was noticeably longer and moved much slower.
At the citizen lane, many people were using self-service declaration machines, swiping their passports and pressing their fingerprints, passing through quickly with almost no interaction with officials, and the queue moved rapidly. In contrast, at the foreigners' lane, the queue was winding, and everyone had to go through manual counters, be questioned, checked, have their fingerprints pressed, and have their photos taken. The process was cumbersome, and the queue was almost at a standstill.
Lü Yi stood on tiptoe and looked at the endless crowd ahead, then glanced at the unobstructed pedestrian passage beside him, and muttered under his breath, "Damn it, the discrimination is so obvious."
Lin Feng didn't respond, but simply stood quietly in line. He had expected this difference; it was part of the country's operating rules and nothing to be surprised about. He was more concerned about the customs officer he was about to face.
The wait was long and tedious. The air was stuffy, and the cries of babies, the complaints of passengers, and the occasional raised voices of staff members mingled together. They waited for almost an hour before it was their turn.
Behind the counter sat a middle-aged white male officer in a dark blue uniform. He had thinning hair and a somewhat sagging face, and was typing something on a computer screen, barely lifting his eyelids. On the table in front of him was a sign that read "United States Officer," next to a fingerprint scanner and a webcam.
Lin Feng handed over the two passports. The official slowly took them, glanced at the covers, then lifted his eyelids to sized up Lin Feng and Lü Yi. His gaze was indifferent, almost cold, carrying a formulaic scrutiny and a subtle impatience towards a specific group accumulated over years of work. He didn't speak, but began typing on the keyboard with his short, stubby fingers, verifying the information.
"What is the purpose of your visit to the United States?" he finally asked, his voice a little hoarse, as if it were a routine question.
"Business visit, potential investment," Lin Feng replied calmly in fluent but slightly accented English.
How long will you stay?
"Tentatively set for two weeks, subject to extension depending on the situation."
Where to stay?
Lin Feng gave the name of a high-end hotel in the city center that K had booked in advance.
The official asked questions mechanically while recording them on his computer. The questions were all routine, but his attitude always carried a distant arrogance. After questioning Lin Feng, he turned to Lü Yi, asking similar questions, but his tone was even more perfunctory.
"Okay, look at the camera, and put your fingerprint on." The official pointed to the device.
The two worked together to complete the task.
"Bag inspection." The official finally stood up from his seat and pointed to a relatively open inspection area marked with a yellow line next to him. His movements were somewhat languid as he gestured for a colleague pushing an empty luggage cart to come and help.
Lin Feng and Lü Yi placed their two carry-on suitcases and a handbag on the inspection counter. The official gestured for them to open them.
The inspection began. The process was far more brutal and... casual than expected.
The official practically ripped the items out of the suitcase, throwing them haphazardly onto the inspection table. Neatly folded clothes were shaken open and crumpled; amenity kits were pulled open, bottles and jars were taken out, shaken, and then tossed back in; electronic devices were asked to be turned on, briefly inspected, and then carelessly tossed aside. His actions were utterly disrespectful, as if he were dealing with a pile of unclaimed trash rather than the traveler's personal belongings.
Lü Yi's face grew increasingly grim, her fists clenching silently at her sides. Lin Feng remained expressionless, his gaze calmly following the official's movements.
Suddenly, the official pulled something about the size of a palm, wrapped in soft cloth, from the side pocket of Lin Feng's suitcase.
He pulled back the soft cloth, revealing a beautifully carved sandalwood box. Inside the box was a cicada-shaped paperweight carved from mutton-fat jade. The jade was warm and lustrous, and the carving was delicate, shimmering with a soft sheen under the cold airport lights. This was a small item that Lin Feng always carried with him; it wasn't worth an astronomical sum, but it was certainly not a cheap craft.
The official held the jade cicada in his hand, weighing it in his hand, a barely perceptible glint in his eyes. He glanced at Lin Feng, then at the colleague pushing the luggage cart beside him. Then, he did something that made Lü Yi's blood rush to his head—he flipped his wrist and very naturally stuffed the jade cicada into the breast pocket of his uniform, the movement as practiced as if he had rehearsed it countless times.
After he finished, he even turned to his colleague and winked, saying in a low but loud voice that Lin Feng and the others could hear, with a mocking tone, "Look, this Asia guy is pretty rich, carrying this little gadget." He deliberately emphasized the word "Asia guy," full of contempt.
"Hey! You..." Lü Yi suddenly took a step forward, his eyes instantly burning with rage. He blurted out a curse in Chinese, his arm muscles bulging, and he looked ready to strike.
"Lü Yi." Lin Feng's voice was low and even flat, yet it was like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing Lü Yi's impending outburst. Lin Feng's hand was already on Lü Yi's arm, gently pulling him back slightly. His gaze didn't even meet the official's; he spoke clearly and slowly in Chinese to Lü Yi: "Let's not cause any further trouble."
Lü Yi's chest heaved violently, his teeth grinding together, but Lin Feng's calm gaze and the strength in his hand acted like an iron clamp, forcing him to endure it. He glared fiercely at the official, almost etching the man's image into his very bones.
The official saw Lü Yi's anger and Lin Feng's obstruction. Instead of calming down, his contempt and sense of superiority intensified. He curled his lip and swept his gaze over the two of them with a "just as I thought" look, as if to say: See? I knew you Easterners were all cowardly sheep.
This silent provocation seemed to embolden him even more. He turned around again, this time targeting Lü Yi's suitcase. He roughly rummaged through it, and soon pulled out a vintage brass pocket watch with a complex mechanical structure from a hidden compartment in Lü Yi's suitcase. This watch was a trinket that Lü Yi had found himself; it wasn't a top-tier luxury watch, but it was exquisitely crafted and quite substantial.
The official picked up the pocket watch, tossed it in his hand, and then, under Lü Yi's almost spitting fire gaze, he repeated his trick—with a flick of his wrist, the brass pocket watch disappeared into another pocket of his uniform. This time, he didn't even bother to banter with his colleague; he simply raised his eyelids and looked at Lü Yi with a gaze that was a mixture of mockery and condescension, as if to say: I took it, so what?
Lü Yi's breathing was heavy, like a bellows, and his nails dug deeply into his palms. He looked at Lin Feng, his eyes filled with a questioning look. "How can you tolerate this?"
Lin Feng's hand remained on his arm, his grip firm. He didn't even glance at the official a second time, but simply tilted his head slightly, leaned close to Lü Yi's ear, and spoke in a low, clear voice in Chinese, in a volume only the two of them could hear:
Remember his employee ID card.
He paused, lowering his voice further, yet it carried a chilling, penetrating quality:
"Once we get out, find someone and shoot him in the back."
These words struck like lightning, instantly cleaving through the pent-up frustration and rage in Lü Yi's chest. He froze, the anger in his eyes quickly fading, replaced by a deeper, bloodthirsty chill. He stared intently at the official's face, especially the metal badge with his name and number on his chest, as if trying to burn it through with his gaze—"CBP Officer, R. Dawson, No. 8742."
The official's name is Dawson. His serial number is 8742.
Lü Yi etched this information firmly and deeply into his mind. He was no longer angry; instead, he grinned and gave a strange, bloodthirsty smile to the official who was waving them away with a victorious air.
The official was taken aback by Lü Yi's sudden smile, a strange unease creeping over him. But his long-standing arrogance and prejudice immediately suppressed this discomfort, assuming the other man was simply stunned. Without further ado, he waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away a fly, and said impatiently, "Clear! Next!"
Lin Feng released his grip and calmly began to put the items that had been scattered and messed up on the inspection table back into the box one by one. His movements were unhurried, even elegant, which was out of place with the hurried and chaotic environment around him. Lü Yi also silently helped to tidy up, but as he tidied up, his eyes would always unconsciously glance at the official named "Dawson," his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a dead man.
The two men, carrying their reorganized luggage, passed through the inspection area and headed for the exit. Behind them, they heard the same rude reprimand from the Dawson officer to the next passenger.
Stepping out of the customs inspection area, I found myself in a spacious baggage claim hall and a passageway leading to the arrivals gate. The bright lights and bustling crowds made it seem as if the humiliating and malicious scene I had just witnessed had never happened.
Lü Yi followed closely behind Lin Feng, holding back for a long time before finally unable to contain himself. He lowered his voice, his excitement and fierceness barely contained, and asked, "Boss, are you really looking for someone...?"
Lin Feng didn't stop, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his face still expressionless, and he simply replied:
"What's the rush? Let's settle in first."
His voice was soft, yet it sent a chill down Lü Yi's spine. She nodded vigorously, her eyes regaining their light—no longer anger, but a cold, pre-hunt excitement.
They headed towards the exit, temporarily leaving the hustle and bustle of the customs hall and the official named Dawson behind.
But some things, once written down, will never be forgotten.