Chapter 143: I’m Treasuring It!

It felt just like having your longtime crush suddenly confess to you—

Ye Qing’s pupils widened in shock for a second, and his heart started pounding wildly.

“Thank you!”

He snapped back to his senses, and, as if receiving a priceless treasure, carefully took the item with both hands, unable to put it down as he examined it closely.

Just one glance at the markings on the gun told Ye Qing two things:

First, Jiang Yan really trusted him.

He didn’t know exactly how much, but it was definitely more than she trusted Sun Jingtao or Su Dai.

After all, he already had a shotgun. If she were giving out another gun, it should have gone to Sun Jingtao.

Second, this pistol didn’t come from Ma Longbiao.

Most likely, Jiang Yan had reluctantly parted with one of her own private weapons and given it to him for free.

It was said that Ma Longbiao’s group got their weapons from a nearby police armory.

That’s why the shotgun confiscated from Dao Yinping had a distinctive star logo on the receiver—the standard mark on all domestic firearms.

But the pistol Jiang Yan gave him had foreign specifications engraved on the side.

Where the star logo should have been, there was instead the sharp-eyed head of a falcon.

Most likely, it was made in America.

Luckily, the only light in the room was a small alcohol lamp, so the lighting was dim and Sun Jingtao probably couldn’t make out the details.

Ye Qing looked up at Jiang Yan with gratitude, only to see her calmly take two more magazines from her backpack and place them in front of him. “Here, take these too.”

Including the full magazine already in the pistol, that made sixty rounds in total—more than enough.

If the enemy didn’t have many people, he could probably turn them into Swiss cheese.

“Damn!” Sun Jingtao couldn’t help blurting out in surprise.

Before he could reach for the magazines to take a look, Ye Qing had already snatched them up and stuffed them into his pocket like a precious treasure.

He was wearing a tactical suit today, which had special magazine pouches—almost as if it had been tailored for him.

“Xiao Ye, that gun looks a bit like a PKK. Let me take a look at it when you’re done,” Sun Jingtao said, a little puzzled by Ye Qing’s sudden possessiveness, but not thinking much of it.

Ye Qing, however, wore a proud little smirk and refused without hesitation:

“No way, Brother Tao. This is a gift from Jiang Yan, and I’m treasuring it. Not letting you see~”

“If you want to study something, study the cigarettes and liquor first!” Ye Qing said, pushing the pack of Huazi cigarettes and the bottle of Moutai across the table to him.

“Damn! You little brat, you’d ditch your bros for a girl!” Sun Jingtao said in mock anger, almost raising his hand to smack him.

Ye Qing just grinned sheepishly and didn’t argue, carefully putting the gun away.

“When did this kid get so stingy?” Su Dai, watching his unusual behavior, nearly burst out laughing.

But it had been a long time since she’d seen Ye Qing this happy.

She couldn’t help but feel happy for him.

After speaking, Su Dai got up to add hot water to the instant noodles and set a bowl in front of each person according to their preferred flavor.

Once Ye Qing had put the gun away, he regained his usual serious expression and looked at Sun Jingtao:

“Brother Tao, that shotgun is powerful, but it takes real skill to use. I definitely can’t handle it. They say a treasured sword belongs with a hero—so that gun, it’s yours.”

“You sure?!” Sun Jingtao raised his eyebrows, barely able to hide his excitement.

Ye Qing nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. Absolutely.”

Hearing this, Sun Jingtao stood up and gave him a hearty slap on the back. “At least you’ve still got a conscience!”

Jiang Yan glanced at Ye Qing, the corners of her lips curling up in a smile.

Yep, she’d picked the right person.

This kid really knew how to play his cards.

Now the proud owner of the shotgun, Sun Jingtao immediately popped out the magazine with a click.

“Nine shells.”

Jiang Yan glanced at them and understood right away.

The gun looked similar to one in her own arsenal, but the ammo was different—no interchangeable rounds.

Still, nine shells would be enough.

“Huh, only nine? And why are they called shells instead of bullets?” Su Dai asked, puzzled.

“Shells usually refer to cylindrical rounds. These are called buckshot—they were originally used for deer hunting. The heads are made up of several copper-jacketed lead balls. SWAT teams use this kind of ammo a lot. Each shell contains multiple pellets, so when you fire one, it’s like firing several bullets at once,” Jiang Yan explained.

“Jiang Yan, how do you know all this?!” Su Dai was stunned.

So were the other two.

Actually, Su Dai had wanted to ask this question for a long time, but had always held back.

Jiang Yan smiled mysteriously. “Because when I was abroad, I went to a special agent training camp.”

Su Dai: “What?!!!”

It was a pretty far-fetched excuse.

But Su Dai seemed to believe it.

She wanted to ask more, but Ye Qing had already changed the subject:

“Alright, Jiang Yan, Brother Tao, let’s talk about our plan.”

But honestly, there wasn’t much to plan.

In a word: fight.

The 22nd floor would soon be flooded, and Ma Longbiao’s group would probably come back from the 23rd floor.

Of course, they might also wade in from the 22nd floor, since the glass there had already been pried open—no need to do that again.

So it would be safer to ambush them in the 23rd floor hallway, or even on the 24th floor.

Then they could adapt as the situation changed.

After all, they were in the dark, while the enemy was in the light.

Now that everyone had weapons, they had the upper hand.

As for Tian Jiliang and his group, their job would be to keep the residents downstairs calm and make sure they didn’t cause trouble at the last minute.

But there were still some unknowns: