Chapter 5

When the topic of her mother came up, Tongtong's eyes reddened, "Auntie! Tong Jiaqiang called me, asking me to go live with him."

"No way," the smile on Beiyin Yao's face suddenly vanished, "That ungrateful bastard still has the nerve to call you. Do you forget that when he abandoned you and your mother, you were less than a year old?" Beiyin Yao's face turned cold, as if a layer of frost had settled on it.

Tongtong, tears streaming down her face, said, "Auntie! I won't go."

Yang Luo, hearing their conversation, thought of himself, of Xiaoyang Village, and of that man. Because Tongtong's situation was very similar to his, only he was luckier, as his mother was now living a happy life...

It wasn't until the two women got into the car and Tongtong turned to look at him that Yang Luo snapped back to reality. He watched the car disappear with a lingering gaze, then picked up his worn-out bag and started looking for a taxi. After wandering for a while, no one was willing to pick him up, so he had no choice but to get on a random bus and go wherever it took him.

Half an hour later, Yang Luo got off the bus and looked around, not knowing where he was. His stomach growled, and he muttered, "Damn! I should fill my stomach first. Then find a place to stay, and look for a job."

Yang Luo found a small eatery and ordered a bowl of stretched noodles. As he ate, he kept complaining, "Damn! The food here is still better. The stuff those foreigners eat is just garbage. People are garbage, countries are garbage, and the food is even more garbage." The other customers in the eatery looked at him as if he were a monster, but he remained unperturbed, continuing to eat and shout.

"Bang!"

A dull sound came from outside. No one knew what it was, but Yang Luo's expression suddenly became very serious. If anyone familiar with him saw this, they would find it very unusual, as this international thug could also be this serious.

"Bang" Another dull sound came, and Yang Luo put down his chopsticks, took out a crumpled ten-yuan note from his pocket, and threw it on the table before walking out.

Others didn't know what the dull sound was, but he did. It was a gunshot, and it was from an AK in burst-fire mode. The shots came from the bank across the street.

It must be said that the police in such a major international city were quite efficient. Less than three minutes after the gunshots, over a dozen police cars had arrived.

More than thirty police officers quickly secured the scene, and Yang Luo, carrying his worn-out bag, walked over and stood outside the police tape. By this time, a crowd had gathered behind him, and the gunshots didn't scare them; instead, they excitedly pushed forward. This showed the Chinese people's love for spectacle, and such a scene could only be seen in movies or on TV, so how could they not be crazy about it?

A fat man with the rank of a first-class police inspector held a megaphone and shouted, "Listen up, people inside, you are surrounded. Put down your weapons and come out to surrender. Resistance is futile. You should know our policy: as long as you don't harm the hostages, we will give you lenient treatment..."

The fat man shouted for a while, his mouth foaming, and then, feeling thirsty, he leaned into the car to grab a bottle of mineral water, took a sip, and continued shouting with the megaphone.

This time, before he could say a few more words, a gunshot came from inside. The megaphone in the fat man's hand flew out with a "snap," and he shrank back, hiding behind the car.

"Damn! Has the sniper arrived?" The fat man wiped the sweat from his forehead, not knowing if it was from fear or heat.