Chapter 3: The Cemetery
The taxi stopped outside a cemetery. Chen An immediately alighted the car, leaving Chen yang to scramble behind him. ‘Uncle, wait for me!’
"Hey hey! Young man, pay up!’ The cab driver yelled anxiously at Chen Yang.
By the time Chen Yang paid the cab driver, he had lost sight of Chen An completely. s.h.i.+t, his uncle wouldn’t have come here to attempt suicide again, would he?
Immediately Chen Yang started searching the cemetery frantically. Fortunately, Chen An’s body size and face mask made him a conspicuous figure. He was soon able to find the man under a tree.
"Uncle, let’s go back. You just left a hospital. It is not good [in the non-auspicious sense] to come to such a place. ’ Chen Yang pulled on the man’s arm but Chen An wouldn’t budge an inch.
"Uncle, what are you looking at?’ Observing Chen An’s fixed scrutiny, Chen Yang followed his gaze.
In the near distance, a group of men dressed in black suits stood solemnly round the side of a grave. Standing mong them in the front, was an upright man wearing sungla.s.ses with his hair slicked back. In his hands he held a cremation urn.
No matter how one look at it, it looks like the funeral of a mafia boss in the movies. Instinctively, Chen Yang knew that these men were not to be trifled with. He gently tugged on Chen An’s sleeve. "Uncle, let’s go back home.’
"Home?’ Chen An laughed coldly. His home should be in that grave plot just nearby. No wait, it would be more accurate to say that it should be in that urn.
As though he sensed something, the man holding the urn turned his head to face Chen An’s direction. Behind his sungla.s.ses, he could only see the back view of one thin figure and one fat figure.
Feeling the sharp look digging into his back like knives, Chen An smiled a light taunting smile. Even if he were to appear right in front of Lu Feng, that b.a.s.t.a.r.d definitely will not be able to recognize him.
After catching a cab from the cemetery, Chen An closed his eyes. He felt absolutely nothing when he saw the urn containing his ashes. How utterly ironic.
A few black cars pa.s.sed their side to stop at the cemetery, blocking their road. Chen An opened his eyes to look out the window when he heard the cab driver grumbling.
A stretched limousine stopped not too faraway from them. A few tall and burly-looking bodyguards stood in an ordered formation as another bodyguard carrying a black umbrella pulled open the limousine door. From the car stepped out man with natural charisma and short blonde hair that shone in the sun.
"Wow, why are there so many people dress so formally today? There is even a foreigner.’ Chen Yang pondered as he looked on with a face of curiosity.
Chen An narrowed his eyes. The cab started and drove further and further away from the cemetery. He glanced at the blonde entering the cemetery before slowly turning back.
He did not expect Ivanov to come. While they could be considered "old friends’, but to be accurate, it would be with Ivanov’s father.
When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Chen An who had just started out in firearms dealing, partnered with Ivanov’s father to s.h.i.+pped out large batches of arms from the dissolute USSR. Back then, Ivanov was just a little brat who liked to demand chocolate from him.
Then in 2007, Chen Zhang An met a strong compet.i.tor in the international scene. As it turns out, this fellow was once the kid who used to pester him, calling him "Uncle Chen’, Ivanov.
In the past few years, Ivanov and him have became each other’s biggest compet.i.tor. Of course they would occasionally joined hands to deal with other compet.i.tors but more often than not, they are competing against each other in antagonism.
Chen An never would have thought that Ivanov would come personally. Why would he come for? To sweep his tomb?
Or to celebrate the death of his compet.i.tor?
If Ivanov is rejoicing, then Chen An imagined that fellow would not be happy for long.
Chen An smiled coldly. Since he is still alive, his return is inevitable.