Young Master Zhang

After taking an American warship to Asia and then traveling by several routes, Alex and Logan finally set foot on the land of China after a long journey—a land suffering under devastation.

"Alex, what do we do now?" Logan still had a half-smoked cigar clenched between his lips, unlit, as he casually surveyed the surroundings.

"Wait for someone!" Alex stood at the ferry terminal, watching the crowded dock as emotions surged within him.

Misfortunes never came alone. In 1942, China had not only suffered defeats on the battlefield but also encountered the worst drought in a century. For thousands of miles, the land lay barren, with starving corpses everywhere. People had no choice but to leave their homes in search of a chance to survive.

At the dock, Alex saw countless elderly people traveling with their families, iron pots strapped to their backs. The pale-faced refugees desperately rushed off the ferry and ran toward the city beyond the dock, believing they might find a way to live there.

Unfortunately, before they could rush out of the dock, groups of police officers in dark blue uniforms surrounded them step by step, wielding batons and carrying rifles, intending to drive them all back. Naturally, the desperate refugees refused to give up and threw themselves against the human wall formed by the police.

After a brief standoff, a fat, big-eared police officer pushed through the line and stepped forward, his round face filled with impatience. "You rabble, get out of here right now, or I'll start shooting!" As he spoke, he drew a pistol from his waist, fired several shots into the air, then aimed the gun at the refugees before him.

Most of the refugees were honest farmers. At the sound of gunfire, they shrank back, trembling as they retreated several steps.

"Alex!" Logan took the cigar from his mouth with one hand and turned toward Alex, a trace of anger appearing on his usually calm face.

Alex gave a bitter smile and shook his head, signaling Logan not to act. How could Alex not want to help these refugees? But he did not have that ability now. There was nothing he could do.

Seeing the refugees retreat, the officer at the front looked immensely pleased. He waved his hand as though shooing flies and said casually, "Go back where you came from. This isn't a place you should be!"

"You're sending us to our deaths!" someone among the refugees shouted.

"Yes, I am sending you to your deaths!" The officer glared and shouted arrogantly, "You're useless alive anyway. One death solves everything. It'd be better if you died!"

"Then I'll drag you, you dog bastard, down with me!" An old man with spirit raised a hammer and charged forward, preparing to smash it into the loathsome officer's face.

The pig-like officer was so startled that he nearly threw away his gun. Fortunately, he quickly came to his senses. Looking at the gun in his hand, he immediately found his nerve again and pressed its muzzle against the old man's forehead, cursing fiercely, "Old bastard, try moving one more time! Move again, and I'll blow your brains out!" From the look of him, he seemed ready to fire before the old man even made a move.

Alex was truly enraged. His figure flashed, and he suddenly appeared beside the officer. His right hand settled over the pistol pressed to the old man's forehead. Turning to the officer, he said softly, "Brother, we're all just trying to make a living. There's no need to shoot, is there?"

Having just returned to China, Alex did not want his hands stained with the blood of any Chinese person, even a man like this officer whom he utterly despised.

The officer had not noticed that Alex had appeared out of nowhere and assumed he had simply squeezed out of the crowd. He gave Alex a sidelong glance and cursed harshly, "Who the hell are you? Get lost, or I'll shoot you too!"

Alex's face tightened as he said slowly, word by word, "There are people you can afford to offend, and people you can't!"

Song Zixing looked Alex over and realized he was not anyone he knew. With a smug expression, he shouted, "In Shancheng, there's no one I, Song Zixing, can't afford to offend!"

"Song Zixing?" Alex frowned and snorted coldly. Raising his hand, he slapped Song Zixing across his pig-like face. "You can't afford to offend me!" Alex did not care about the four great families of Chiang, Song, Kong, and Chen. Even if Chiang Kai-shek himself stood before him, Alex would still hit him without hesitation! There were few people in all of China whom Alex did not dare to strike!

Song Zixing was obviously stunned by the slap. One hand covered his face while the other pointed at Alex. After standing there dumbly for a long moment, he finally shrieked, "Shoot him! Shoot him! Kill him!"

At his words, the police officers behind Song Zixing all drew their guns and aimed them at Alex.

Alex swept them with a cold glance, and every officer was so terrified that he dared not move. Alex had fought countless battles on the European front and killed no small number of people. The murderous aura around him was far beyond anything these cowardly bullies could compare to.

By then, Logan had unknowingly walked to Alex's side. He stared coldly at Song Zixing as though looking at a corpse.

At the sight of Logan, Song Zixing began trembling uncontrollably. It was not only Logan's gaze that frightened him, but also Logan's skin color. In China of this era, foreigners were considered superior. Offending one meant an international dispute, and the ones who always suffered in the end were Chinese people!

Just as Song Zixing was considering whether to kneel and apologize or offer money as compensation, a middle-aged man pushed through the crowd. He looked around, then walked straight toward Alex.

When Song Zixing saw the man, he could not help growing excited. Just as he was about to flatter him, he saw the middle-aged man approach Alex with a respectful expression. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Zhang?"

Alex nodded and looked the middle-aged man over. "Yes. I'm Zhang Xuan." Back in China, using his English name felt somewhat awkward, so Alex had decided to use his Chinese name instead. He had informed Strucker of this long ago. The middle-aged man before him was Hydra's person in charge in China and held an extremely high position in the National Government.

"Please come with me, Mr. Zhang!" Once the middle-aged man confirmed Zhang Xuan's identity, his expression became even more humble. He practically bent at the waist as he led the way.

Zhang Xuan turned his head and glanced at Song Zixing, who had already gone pale with terror. With a light laugh, he asked, "So, can you still afford to offend me now?"

Song Zixing collapsed limply to the ground. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he grabbed Zhang Xuan's trouser leg and begged hoarsely, "I failed to recognize Tarzan before me! Young Master Zhang, please be merciful and spare me this once!"

Zhang Xuan had come to China to drive out the Japanese, not to waste his temper on some minor police officer. He laughed loudly and walked away.

Only after Zhang Xuan's group had disappeared from the dock did a young police officer help Song Zixing to his feet and ask quietly, "Brother Song, who exactly is this Young Master Zhang? Why have we never heard of him?"

Song Zixing straightened himself and looked in the direction Zhang Xuan had gone, equally puzzled. "I don't know Young Master Zhang's background either, but I know the man who came to receive him."

"Who?"

"The National Government's Minister of Finance!"