The air-conditioning in Bangkok's luxury office was buzzing, and Ruan Hong and his people were sitting in the booth on the east side, banging the table and smashing bowls. I walked over and knocked on the table and said that a box of 1982 lager beer cost 388,000 baht. He jumped up and started shouting that he was trying to fool me. Gao Jin stood upright and his sleeves brushed against the edge of the bar beside me. When the toes of my boots touched Ruan Hong's lapel, I lowered my head and glanced - the mouth of the scabbard on his waist was glowing coldly. Three years ago I helped him take the position, but now he dares to sit in front of me and bang the table. (59 Words)
