Inside the Dragon and Phoenix Teahouse in Repulse Bay at this moment.

The ancient ceiling fans turned slowly overhead. The Dragon and Phoenix Teahouse seemed much quieter during the day, the light casting elongated, shifting shadows as the fans rotated. Beneath these moving shadows sat two men, each leaning an elbow on the table, backed by seven or eight grim-faced subordinates who stared intently at the two speakers preparing to talk. The surrounding round tables were also packed tight with more underlings, most with their hands clasped behind their backs, some lazily smoking, watching with thinly veiled scorn.

The scene unfolding was undeniably straight out of a triad negotiation straight from the movies.

“Smack! Old Dog, what is the meaning of the Red Star gang summoning members of our New Righteous Alliance out here?” demanded a burly man, bare-chested, a fierce blue tiger tattooed across his shoulder, as he slapped the tabletop.

“Yeah… yeah, what’s the meaning?” chorused the underlings following the big man.

The men behind Old Dog remained similarly silent, but Old Dog didn't strike the table. Instead, he simply raised a hand toward his own men, fixing the burly man opposite him with a cold, mocking smile. “You should know exactly what the New Righteous Alliance has been doing on our Red Star territory!”

“Hmph, know what!” the burly man scoffed, causing the New Righteous Alliance members to tense up instantly, their hands tightening.

“Little Wolf!” Old Dog’s expression turned strangely grim as he beckoned someone from behind him. “Clarify for him exactly what happened last night.”

“Yes… Brother Dog!” A subordinate—no, more accurately, the very 'Wolf Lord' who caused trouble at the small bar on Wan Chai Road last night, now simply called 'Little Wolf'—stepped forward. It was clear he was just a pawn. “Last night, while we were collecting dues on Wan Chai Road, their New Righteous Alliance members not only caused trouble on our turf but also seriously injured many of our brothers. The injuries I have were inflicted by their New Righteous Alliance men.”

“Smack!” The burly man slammed the table again, his face darkening as he stared at Little Wolf. “Kid, you can eat whatever you want, but you can’t just spew nonsense!”

“I’m not speaking nonsense, the people last night were definitely from your New Righteous Alliance!” Little Wolf pointed angrily at the burly man.

“How dare you point at me…”

“Ah… don’t lose your temper, don’t lose your temper! My subordinate is young and rash; with your vast magnanimity, you surely won’t hold it against him. Besides, aren’t we here to discuss the matter of your New Righteous Alliance injuring our men last night?” Old Dog remained perfectly calm. It was clear that any subordinate sent out by the Red Star boss to negotiate knew exactly how to handle things.

“Hmph!” The burly man snorted. He wasn't one to back down easily. He lowered his voice and asked his own subordinates, “Which one of you went to Red Star territory to cause trouble last night?”

“Boss, not me!”

“Boss, me neither!”

“Boss, none of us!”

“There you have it, Old Dog, you heard them? My brothers all say they didn’t go causing trouble on Red Star turf last night.” The burly man gave Old Dog a sly, knowing smile.

“Smack!” This time, it was Old Dog’s turn to strike the table!

A sudden commotion erupted. Groups of subordinates immediately brandished their weapons, pointing them aggressively at the opposition. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife!

“................” A stream of rough, guttural curses poured from the mouths of these underlings, yet only the burly man and Old Dog maintained their unblinking eye contact, their smiles growing ever more unsettling.

“Damn, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a scene like this!” said a slightly overweight youth from inside a black sedan parked across the street from the Dragon and Phoenix Teahouse.

“Heh heh, this is the unique flavor of Hong Kong’s underworld. They all insist on these 'talk-downs,' unlike us,” replied another man, remarkably fair-skinned and refined in appearance. If it weren't for the hint of a scoundrel's smirk in his eyes, one might mistake him for being ill.

These men in the car were undeniably Yang Yi and his entourage. The two men observed the negotiation with amusement; Feng Shi wore an unreadable, faint smile, while Xuanyuan Bing sat with an icy, almost indifferent expression.

“Brother Yi, do you think they’ll start fighting right now?” asked Fatty Lin.

“No, not yet anyway. If they fight, it won’t be until tonight,” Yang Yi chuckled, curling his lip. “I believe that right now, both the Red Star and the New Righteous Alliance are calculating. Are they both sending hidden elements to stir up trouble, planning to deny everything later, thereby igniting a full-scale gang war? Of course, we can’t rule out the possibility of other Hong Kong gangs complicating matters.”

“Their bosses are thinking that?” Fatty Lin pondered, doubt flickering in his eyes. “If they are thinking like that, they certainly won’t strike first. Moreover, other gangs might jump in. Wouldn’t that ruin the effect you’re aiming for?”

“It won’t. The Fourteen and the Hung Hing aren’t fools. They aren't as arrogant and high-and-mighty as the New Righteous Alliance and Red Star. If they were, Hong Kong’s underworld would constantly be reporting fatalities.”

“Are you exploiting precisely that point… Oh! I see now, I see. No wonder you chose to impersonate the New Righteous Alliance and not some other gang!” Fatty Lin suddenly realized, inwardly praising Yang Yi’s ruthlessness.

“Mm. It’s already past noon; let’s head back to the hotel first!” Yang Yi gave a slight affirmative nod and then turned to Feng Shi. “Yanran, have the Ten Army Generals report all gathered intelligence back to us later!”

“Yes, understood.”

Feng Shi acknowledged him, and the car slowly pulled away from the curb opposite the teahouse. Inside the Dragon and Phoenix Teahouse, however, the standoff remained—a standoff that seemed ready to break at any moment. One side would threaten with a machete, the other would taunt with an iron pipe, yet—no one made a move, as neither boss had given the order.

One O’clock in the afternoon:

At the hotel, Yang Yi and his group had returned and finished their lunch, now seated in their room.

“Young Master, here is the intelligence reported by the Ten Army Generals, compiled into a single file!” Feng Shi handed Yang Yi a document filling three pages.

“Good. As expected, Yanran understands me best,” Yang Yi smiled faintly. Having documents was always better than verbal reports; some things were just better left unsaid.

Yang Yi began reading the file carefully. Fatty Lin and Feng Shi, as usual, remained silent beside him, their quietude seeming habitual when he was reviewing data.

In less than a minute, Yang Yi finished reading. His brow furrowed slightly, and he tapped his forehead lightly, sitting in deep thought as the atmosphere grew increasingly heavy.

The Hung Hing gang, a major force boasting twenty thousand members, held direct ties with a certain General in Thailand, ensuring a solid patronage. Furthermore, Hung Hing was considered the patriarch of the Hong Kong triads, meaning its status could not be underestimated.

The Fourteen gang, similarly boasting twenty thousand members, lacked a General as a direct backer because they didn't need one; they were entirely composed of the sons of high-ranking officials and influential elites—a 'Young Masters' Gang' whose power in Hong Kong was easily equal to that of Hung Hing.

As for the New Righteous Alliance and Red Star, the reason these two gangs were the first Yang Yi chose to manipulate was simply their comparatively smaller numbers—each generally capping at around ten thousand members. Thus, Yang Yi employed a strategy of using the few to conquer the many, relying on the premise that he, Yang Yi, must also possess a certain amount of manpower in Hong Kong; otherwise, intimidating Hung Hing and the Fourteen instantly would be impossible.

The true source of Yang Yi's current consternation wasn't the power balance itself, but the fact that the friction he intentionally manufactured had failed to provoke even a reaction from Hung Hing or the Fourteen, a point that genuinely gave him pause.

Fatty Lin, watching Yang Yi remain silent in thought for so long, finally lost his patience, his lips moving. “Brother… Yi!”

“Mm?” Yang Yi looked up, his expression one of vague inquiry. “What is it?”

“That… have you figured it out yet? What should we do now…”

It was known that within the Black God Gang, and perhaps throughout the entire world, anyone other than Fatty Lin, Xu Ming, Ye Xiaohou, or Old Yang, who dared to interrupt Yang Yi during deep thought, would be met with his chilling indifference. Therefore, both Feng Shi and Li Qianyi—unless they were completely unaware of the situation—would never dare disturb him while he was concentrating.

“Heh heh!” Yang Yi smiled lightly, stood up, took a step, and then spoke. “Yanran, immediately notify Uncle Han. Have him dispatch half of the contingent I asked him to prepare earlier. And it must be a covert operation!”

“Yes!” Feng Shi acknowledged and promptly left.

“Brother Yi!” Fatty Lin felt his curiosity itching fiercely from Yang Yi’s mysterious smile and quickly called out.

“Don’t ask so many questions. You’ll understand everything after watching the fireworks tonight,” Yang Yi waved him off with a smile.