Chapter Thirty: The New Neighbor

Thank you to Zici Chengxiong for the reward, and thanks to the brothers for your support!

“Hey, buddy, I’ve got some big news,” Braykin Hill said as soon as Qiu Fengyu sat down, grinning at him. “This is the hottest news ever—Abilene’s first, in fact…”

Qiu Fengyu took the drink Braykin handed him, sipped it, and glanced around.

“A bunch of Mexicans, all dead by the roadside. Word is, they intended to ambush the town cops, but someone took them out—clean and fast,” Braykin chuckled. “The cops got lucky.”

“The cops?”

“Yeah, the ones from town. Otherwise, just imagine it—if all the police got wiped out at once. Those Mexicans had balls, damn it…”

“Shut your mouth, or Sheriff Brack’ll be on your case,” Qiu Fengyu said, taking another drink. Tonight, he needed to find a woman to let off some steam.

“Want me to introduce you to a girl?” Braykin Hill noticed Qiu’s eyes roaming and leaned in. “I promise, this time she’s good—Russian, speaks some English, knows how to say hello, dollar, and ****… She’ll definitely satisfy you.”

“You’re in league with those Russians?” Qiu Fengyu eyed him.

“No, it’s just business. I don’t like them either—they take too big a cut. Even though I provide the venue and work hard to bring in customers, it doesn’t do me much good. But if I don’t do it, they’ll make trouble for me. So… buddy, you gotta understand!”

“The one on the left, not the one smoking weed,” Qiu Fengyu said, pointing to the girl sitting in the dim corner.

Braykin snapped his fingers at the Russian girl and beckoned. She walked over, swaying her snake-like waist—her figure was remarkable.

“You’ve got good taste…”

“Shut up, Braykin!” Qiu Fengyu slapped a bill on the bar and said to the woman, “Let’s go, let’s take a walk.”

The girl followed him out, and they walked together down the street.

“Are we going to your place or a hotel?” the girl asked, picking up her pace to match his, speaking in halting English.

“If you’re paying for the room, I don’t mind.”

She shrugged, a little contemptuous, but said nothing more.

They hadn’t gone far when a car approached from ahead—it was Coffin’s.

“Hey, Qiu, who’s this woman?”

The car stopped, Coffin leaned out, looked at the girl, then at Qiu Fengyu. “You should’ve driven. Then I wouldn’t have seen you.”

“I just wanted to—” Before he could finish, the car revved off.

Qiu watched it go, thought for a moment, said nothing, and kept walking. The girl flipped Coffin’s car the finger, then caught up to Qiu and muttered, “What a whore,” in Russian.

Qiu Fengyu said nothing, kept walking.

“Women like that… deserve to be—”

“Hey, kid, don’t badmouth Coffin, she’s a good girl,” Qiu stopped and cut her off. “I understand Russian, don’t talk trash about her in front of me.” He spoke in Russian, too.

“Alright, I get it…” Maybe his fluent Russian surprised her, but she obediently fell silent.

Once they reached the loft, neither spoke. The girl began to undress. Qiu Fengyu stood still. She came over, wanting to help him undress.

“Wait, wait, I suddenly don’t feel like it,” Qiu Fengyu pushed her hand away.

“You still have to pay. Full price,” she said, hands on hips.

Without a word, Qiu took four hundred dollars from his wallet and stuffed it into her bra. “Take the money and get out, fast as you can!”

“Alright, for the money, I’ll do as you say!” The Russian girl dressed quickly, grinning at him. “Is something wrong with you?” She glanced at his crotch.

“Get out, or I’ll have to hit a woman!” Qiu Fengyu suddenly yelled.

Terrified, the Russian girl grabbed her money and hurried downstairs.

Qiu Fengyu stood in the loft for a moment before going down and locking the door. He went back upstairs, sat down with a sigh. After running into Coffin, his desire had vanished completely.

Back in Ukraine, he was always tense, always on edge—never knowing if he’d kill or be killed. Finding women for release had become routine. Sometimes, after killing, he’d seek out a woman to keep himself from staying in that constant state of anxiety.

But here… life was good, the feeling was different. Even after taking out the Mexican drug lord, he felt no worry. He never left loose ends, so even if he had to fly to Mexico, he’d eliminate anyone who threatened him.

He understood well: strike first, strike hard, show no mercy.

He thought about it, found it meaningless, so he went to the bathroom, took a cold shower to clear his head, then lay down to sleep.

Early the next morning, as soon as he opened his eyes, he grabbed his phone, hesitated, then called Coffin. She answered quickly: “It’s me, Officer Coffin.”

“It’s Qiu Fengyu.”

“I know. Talk—if you’ve got something to say, don’t waste time.”

“Okay, I just… just wanted to tell you something.” Qiu hesitated, then said, “I sent that woman away last night, right after I ran into you…”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it… uh, goodbye.” Qiu quickly ended the call and lay on the bed, staring into space.

“Have I fallen for this girl?” He pondered, then shook his head. “No, I don’t like her. I just don’t want her to think I’m a womanizer, that’s all!”

Once he settled on this, he felt relieved and went back to sleep.

The town returned to its calm. Maybe it was because those Mexican immigrants had been annihilated, or maybe because their deaths resembled the deaths of the Russians. The Russians, for their part, hadn’t made any moves. They’d temporarily halted all investigations.

If a mysterious organization appeared nearby—one capable of wiping out your gang or another’s with ease—you had to consider acting cautiously.

Qiu Fengyu kept selling his noodles, occasionally video-calling Alyssa in distant Los Angeles. Life was good. Officer Coffin often came by for a bowl of noodles.

But that was all. Neither brought up past events, especially what happened that night.

The townsfolk grew more familiar with Qiu Fengyu, and more accepting of his presence. They treated him as one of their own, and he became used to blending in, living a regular life: selling noodles by day, driving around in the afternoon, having a drink at the bar at night.

Life was pleasant, except for the lack of a woman. Until one day, a new household moved in.

The newcomers were a man and a young woman. The girl was about seventeen or eighteen, the man around forty, tall and shrewd-looking. Their house was right next to Qiu Fengyu’s shop—a place that had been vacant for a while, the former owner long gone.

They drove a Chevrolet, brought few belongings. From their behavior, it was clear they weren’t lovers—most likely father and daughter.

Qiu Fengyu saw them moving in after his afternoon drive, but paid no mind, not intending to greet them. He walked straight into his shop.