Uncle Gong's "Mediation"

Lakeside villas in Bellevue East.

The afternoon sun streamed through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm, bright dappled light into the spacious living room. Outside, there was a neatly manicured lawn, a tranquil private lake, and the distant silhouette of verdant mountains.

The interior is decorated in a simple yet expensive style, with dark solid wood floors, modern furniture with sleek lines, and several abstract paintings with austere brushstrokes hanging on the walls. The air is filled with a faint scent of fine wood and leather, as well as a very subtle, almost imperceptible aroma of incense.

This is one of Lin Feng's relatively "open" and "decent" safe houses and hideouts in Seattle. Today, it welcomes a rather unusual visitor.

Two black Mercedes-Benz S-Class sedans silently drove into the circular driveway in front of the villa and came to a smooth stop. The front and rear doors opened, and five or six Asian men in black suits, with sharp features and piercing eyes, stepped out. They quickly dispersed, taking up key positions such as the car doors and passageways with a seemingly casual but actually vigilant posture. Their movements were efficient and well-trained, clearly those of professional bodyguards.

The rear door of the middle car was respectfully opened by a bodyguard. A gleaming Italy handmade leather shoe stepped out onto the smooth gravel. Immediately afterward, a slightly overweight man in his sixties, dressed in a dark purple Tang suit, with meticulously combed hair and an air of quiet authority, stepped out of the car. He held two glossy walnuts in his hands, his knuckles thick and Gong Zhenhai. This was none other than Uncle Gong Zhenhai, the "head" of the Fuqing Gang in Seattle and throughout the Pacific Ocean Northwest Region.

He stood there, tilting his head slightly back, squinting as he surveyed the villa before him, which appeared exceptionally tranquil in the sunlight. He let out a barely audible snort. A subtle scrutiny flashed in his eyes, along with a complex mix of curiosity, assessment, and a hint of disdain typical of a local tyrant surveying the lair of an outsider. Behind him, a personal attendant carried a wooden gift box covered with a red silk cloth.

K, who had already been informed, appeared at the villa entrance in a neatly pressed dark suit, his face expressionless. He nodded slightly to Uncle Gong and gestured for him to come in. "Mr. Gong, please come in. The boss is waiting for you."

Uncle Gong nodded without speaking, and with steady steps, led the attendant carrying the gift box into the villa under K's guidance. The other bodyguards remained outside, forming a clear but wary standoff with the "Blood Spear" mercenaries under Lin Feng's command guarding the villa's perimeter.

Inside the reception room, Lin Feng stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door, seemingly admiring the scenery of the lake and mountains outside. Today, he was wearing a simple gray cashmere sweater and dark trousers. He was tall and straight, and his Back View appeared somewhat aloof. He only turned around slowly when he heard footsteps.

"Uncle Gong, it's an honor to have you here. I'm so sorry I didn't greet you sooner." Lin Feng gave a standard, polite smile, his voice calm, neither overly enthusiastic nor cold. He gestured to a large set of genuine leather sofas in the center of the living room. "Please have a seat."

Uncle Gong's gaze swept over Lin Feng several times, like a searchlight. Young, too young. His face was calm, his eyes deep, but he lacked the imposing aura or ruthless spirit of a "dragon crossing the river" that Uncle Gong had imagined. He was more like... a businessman or Scholar with some shrewdness. This lessened the initial apprehension in Uncle Gong's heart, replaced by a sense of superiority as a "senior" examining a "youngster".

"Boss Lin, you're too kind." Uncle Gong smiled, a smooth and worldly smile. He sat down confidently on the main sofa, leaning back slightly, appearing quite relaxed. His attendant gently placed the gift box on the coffee table and stepped aside, standing respectfully with his hands at his sides. Uncle Gong tapped the gift box with his finger adorned with a jade thumb ring. "A small token of my appreciation. I've heard Boss Lin is a tea connoisseur; these are some aged Pu'er teas from my collection, still palatable."

"Uncle Gong, thank you so much." Lin Feng sat down on the single sofa to the side, while K stood quietly not far behind him, like a shadow that had no presence. Lin Feng didn't touch the gift box, and looked calmly at Uncle Gong, "I wonder what brings you here today, Uncle Gong?"

"I wouldn't dare offer advice," Uncle Gong chuckled, starting to crackle the walnuts in his hands. "I'm a few years older than most people in the North America Chinese community, and I've been around for a while. In Seattle, I know quite a few people from all walks of life. I've heard that Boss Lin is a promising young man who's making great strides in Seattle, accomplishing several significant things. I've long wanted to come and pay him a visit, to make friends. But I've been too busy with other things to make the trip until today."

He spoke with a strong southern Fujian accent, his tone was neither urgent nor slow, and he had a roundabout way of speaking unique to old-school Jianghu people.

"Uncle Gong is a senior, it's my honor that he could take time out of his busy schedule to come." Lin Feng said, following his words, his tone still polite, but his eyes were unmoved, as if he were listening to an unimportant exchange of pleasantries.

"What seniority? We're all Chinese, making a living in a foreign land, it's only right to look out for each other." Uncle Gong waved his hand, but then his tone shifted, his smile fading and replaced with a hint of earnestness. "However, Boss Lin, I'm a few years older than you, and there are some things I'm not sure if I should say."

"Uncle Gong, please speak." Lin Feng gestured for him to continue.

"Boss Lin hasn't been in Seattle for long, so he might not know much about the situation here... well, how deep the waters are." Uncle Gong leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing some incredible secret. "Take the Walton Family of Northwest Logistics, for example. They're no ordinary businessmen. Richard Walton has been operating in Seattle and Washington State for decades; his roots run deep. He has connections in both the legal and illegal worlds, in politics and business. To put it bluntly, in this area, if Walton stomped his foot, the ground would tremble."

He observed Lin Feng's reaction, and seeing that the other party was just listening quietly with no expression on his face, he continued, "I heard that Boss Lin and Mr. Walton seem to have had a small misunderstanding recently? It was quite unpleasant? They even got a little... angry?"

He used the words "misunderstanding" and "anger" very subtly.

Lin Feng smiled faintly, "Just normal competition in business. Uncle Gong is very well-informed."

"Normal competition?" Uncle Gong shook his head, a look of "you young man, you don't understand" on his face. "Boss Lin, if it were just normal business competition, I wouldn't have said a word. But the rumors I've heard are more complicated. There's turmoil in the stock market, and some problems have arisen with the drivers... It's getting a bit too big. This is probably beyond the scope of 'normal competition,' isn't it?"

He paused, then his tone became even more "earnest": "Boss Lin, if I may presume to speak, even a powerful dragon cannot suppress a local snake. The Walton Family has been operating here for so many years; they are not so easily shaken."

Even if you gain the upper hand temporarily and push him too far, he might use all his connections and resources to retaliate. In that case, it would likely be a lose-lose situation, or even... Boss Lin, you're a guest from afar, your roots aren't here, you can't afford to waste time."

Lin Feng remained silent, only asking, "What does Uncle Gong think?"

Seeing that Lin Feng seemed to have "taken it to heart," Uncle Gong's spirits lifted slightly, and his smile warmed even more, "My meaning is very simple. It's better to resolve conflicts than to let them fester. I have some acquaintance with Mr. Walton. If Boss Lin is willing, I can step in and act as a peacemaker to help you both reconcile."

He held up three fingers and slowly said, "As for Boss Lin, since this matter was caused by you, and it has also resulted in some... well, losses, why not show some sincerity and give Mr. Walton some appropriate... compensation?"

"As for the amount, we can discuss it. Then, both sides compromise: you cease all your current actions, and I guarantee Mr. Walton will not pursue the matter further. This matter will be considered closed. From now on, we'll keep to ourselves, and perhaps even have opportunities for cooperation."

He looked at Lin Feng with a smile, "Boss Lin, what do you think? My old face still carries some weight with Mr. Walton. If I step in, he should give me face. This is the best outcome for you and for everyone. Fighting and killing isn't a long-term solution, don't you think?"

He finally revealed his true intentions. The so-called "mediation" was simply to force Lin Feng to admit defeat, pay compensation, and stop. As for Uncle Gong, he could not only get benefits from Walton (rewards for resolving the trouble), but also take a cut from Lin Feng's "compensation," and even use this opportunity to control this new, seemingly powerful young man and consolidate his own position as the "godfather of the Chinese." It was a win-win situation.

The living room was quiet for a moment. The only sounds were the crackling of walnuts being rubbed together by Uncle Gong and the occasional chirping of birds from outside the window.

The polite smile on Lin Feng's face slowly disappeared. He looked at Uncle Gong quietly, his eyes showing no sign of being persuaded. Instead, they became even calmer, as calm as a bottomless pool of cold water.

"I appreciate Uncle Gong's kindness," Lin Feng said slowly, his voice not loud, but every word clear and firm, carrying an undeniable conviction. "However, this is a matter between Walton and me. It's a business transaction, each to their own ability. I have no habit of backing down, nor do I need anyone to 'mediate.' As for compensation? That's out of the question."

The refusal was decisive and clean, leaving no room for negotiation.

Uncle Gong's smile froze instantly, and his hand, which was fiddling with the walnuts, stopped. A hint of surprise flashed in his narrowed eyes, quickly replaced by obvious anger. He hadn't expected this young man to be so disrespectful and ungrateful! When had Gong Zhenhai, in Seattle's Chinese community and even the entire underworld, ever been so bluntly and directly rebuffed?

"Boss Lin," Uncle Gong's tone turned cold. He leaned back on the sofa, the feigned "amiability" on his face completely peeling away, revealing the cold hardness and domineering nature of a gangster boss, "It's good that young people have drive, but they also need to know how to assess the situation and know when to advance and retreat. I'm being so clear because we're both Chinese, and I don't want to see you take the wrong path and stumble! The Walton Family's power far exceeds your imagination! Do you really think you can bring them down with your underhanded methods? Dream on!"

He snorted coldly, his tone carrying a clear threat. "Take my advice, know when to quit while you're ahead. Pay up some money to settle things, and everyone's saving face. If you insist on going down this path... Hmph, then not only will Walton not let you off the hook, but you won't be able to stay in Seattle so easily!"

"Oh?" Lin Feng raised an eyebrow slightly, his face still expressionless, but his eyes sharpened. "Is Uncle Gong threatening me?"

"A threat?" Uncle Gong scoffed, picking up the walnuts again and slowly turning them over, his posture returning to its arrogant state. "I'm merely stating the facts. Boss Lin, don't forget, this is United States, but it's also a place where many Chinese people live. Some things can't be solved with money and guns alone. Favors, face, rules... do you understand these?"

He paused, as if feeling the matter wasn't quite right, then added meaningfully, his voice even lower, carrying a subtle threat. "Besides, I still have some old friends back home, in some... key departments. Boss Lin, your roots are still in the East. Being too ruthless won't be good for anyone. Don't you think so?"

This is a blatant threat, not only implying that Lin Feng can be made to move an inch in Seattle, but also bringing up "domestic connections" to exert pressure.

The air in the living room suddenly became stagnant and cold after Uncle Gong's words. K, standing behind Lin Feng, had a slight twitch in his eyes, but remained as silent as a mountain.

Lin Feng stared at Uncle Gong for a few seconds. His face showed none of the anger, panic, or compromise that Uncle Gong had expected. There was only a complete, cold calm, as if something was freezing and settling beneath that calm.

Suddenly, Lin Feng's lips twitched upwards very slightly. It wasn't a smile, but more like... a curve of utterly lost interest in being perfunctory.

He slowly stood up.

"Uncle Gong," Lin Feng's voice was calm and even more so than before, "You're right, there are some rules I might not be familiar with."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Uncle Gong's slightly bewildered face before turning to the window.

"However, I'm the kind of person who prefers to solve problems in my own way."

After saying that, he stopped looking at Uncle Gong, turned around, nodded slightly to K, and then walked straight towards the door on the other side of the reception room that led to the inner room. His steps were steady, without the slightest hesitation or panic, as if he were just temporarily leaving to deal with a trivial matter.

"Boss Lin! What do you mean by this?!" Uncle Gong was taken aback by this sudden action, then a surge of anger, feeling utterly ignored and humiliated, welled up inside him. He stood up abruptly, his voice rising, "I haven't finished speaking!"

Lin Feng stopped at the door, tilted his head slightly, but didn't turn around completely, leaving Uncle Gong with only a cold profile.

"Uncle Gong, I have some things to take care of here." His voice came from the doorway, still eerily calm. "Excuse me. Please make yourself at home."

As soon as he finished speaking, he didn't linger. He pushed open the door, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the inner room, the door closing gently behind him.

"You!" Uncle Gong's face flushed with anger, his knuckles turning white from gripping the walnuts so tightly. He stood there, staring at the closed door, his chest heaving. His entourage exchanged bewildered glances.

Arrogant! Utterly arrogant! This guy surnamed Lin is simply outrageously arrogant! How dare he leave Gong Zhenhai standing here like this! Is he truly fearless, or is he just courting death?

Uncle Gong, enraged, laughed coldly and plopped heavily back onto the sofa. He waved to his attendant, "He doesn't know his place! I'd like to see what tricks he can pull! Will he go to get reinforcements, or call his backer for instructions? Humph, this isn't over until he gives me a satisfactory explanation!"

He picked up the slightly cooled tea that K had brought him earlier, took a sip, suppressed his anger, and decided to wait here to see what outcome Lin Feng could "handle." He was confident that in Seattle, there was no one he, Gong Zhenhai, couldn't subdue!

Silence fell again in the reception room, broken only by Uncle Gong's heavy breathing and the irregular rubbing of walnuts. The atmosphere was oppressive and tense.

A few minutes later.

The door on the other side of the reception room was pushed open again.

Uncle Gong thought it was Lin Feng returning, and with a cold snort, he raised his eyelids to look.

However, the man who walked in was a complete stranger.

Tall and muscular, he wore a tight black T-shirt with an open leather vest casually over it, revealing his muscular arms and some tattoos on his chest. A large cigar dangled from his mouth, the smoke partially obscuring his face, but his eyes shone with an undisguised glint of cynicism and savagery. His strides were long, casual, even somewhat slovenly, completely out of place in the elegantly decorated reception room.

It's Lü Yi.

He walked straight to the center of the living room and, with an air of superiority, plopped down on the single sofa where Lin Feng had just been sitting. The sofa groaned slightly under his weight. He crossed his legs, took the lit cigar from his mouth, flicked the ash off roughly, and the ash fell directly onto the gleaming solid wood floor and expensive carpet.

Then, he raised his head, his eyes slightly squinted from the smoke, and glanced sideways at Uncle Gong, whose face was filled with surprise and uncertainty, on the opposite sofa. A roguish smile spread across his lips.

"Old man," Lü Yi's voice was hoarse, with a heavy, unfamiliar accent, and his tone was as flippant as if he were greeting a familiar face at a roadside stall, "Who are you? Do you need something from our boss?"