Chapter 185

Speaking of Sheng Yunfei, he led his men in through the back door. The back door was small and located in a remote spot, in a dirty and messy alley with uneven ground covered in foul water. Covering his nose, he cursed silently at this place. After much effort, they reached the back door. Just as he pushed it to enter, someone was already standing there, startling him. The man was of average height with an ordinary appearance—precisely his friend. Sheng Yunfei exhaled softly, patted his chest, and asked, “Xiao San, why are you standing here?”
The man’s name was Sun Ming; he was the third child in his family, and those who knew him called him Xiao San. Sun Ming smiled and said, “I was afraid you wouldn’t find your way and would delay important matters. It’s better if I lead you—it’s more reliable.” This is what a friend is like! Sheng Yunfei sighed inwardly, patted his shoulder, and thanked him, “It’s too dangerous for you to come with me. It’s just the third floor; I can take my men up there!” Sun Ming shook his head and said, “Don’t waste time. Come with me!” With that, he turned and walked inside. Sheng Yunfei sighed and hurried after him, saying, “Once this is done, come and join my boss. From now on, you’ll have food whenever there’s food for the brothers.”
Sun Ming smiled indifferently and said nothing. Guided by Sun Ming, the group found a staircase that seemed to be rarely used, covered in dust. When they reached the second floor, Sun Ming stopped and said, “Let’s go to the second floor first and take care of their men. It’ll make things easier later.”
Sheng Yunfei thought it made sense and asked, “How many men did He Cheng leave on the second floor?” Sun Ming replied, “Not many, just four or five.” “Oh!” Sheng Yunfei nodded in relief and said, “Then I can bring a dozen men with me.” He selected ten men to accompany him, while the rest waited there. Sun Ming led Sheng Yunfei and the others into the hallway on the second floor, which was empty. Sheng Yunfei was puzzled and looked at Sun Ming. The latter smiled and said, “They’re currently having fun in the rooms!” He gave Sheng Yunfei a knowing smile. Sheng Yunfei understood what he meant, chuckled, and said, “Then I’ll let them have some fun!” With that, he pulled out his gun.
Sun Ming pointed to a dark door on the inside and said, “They’re in that room!” “Great!” Sheng Yunfei rushed ahead, took a deep breath, then turned and asked, “There are only four or five of them, right?” Sun Ming replied seriously, “It’s definitely correct. I saw it with my own eyes!”

Sheng Yunfei hesitated no longer. He kicked the door open with force, rushed in in a flash, and shouted, “Those who want to live, behave yourselves…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His mouth hung open as he stood there stunned. The door was large, and the room inside was even bigger. There were four or five people there, but at least forty or fifty in total, all armed with knives and guns. Hundreds of murderous gazes were fixed on him. Sitting in the center was a man in his forties, with his head shaved clean. A vertical scar ran through his eyebrows and eyes—this man was He Cheng. Sheng Yunfei was utterly dumbfounded. It took him a while to realize it was a trap. He turned to look at Sun Ming, who chuckled as he approached Sheng Yunfei, took the gun from his hand, and sneered, “You’ve known me for quite some time now. You should know I’m not a capricious scoundrel, nor would I ever betray anyone!”
Sheng Yunfei said blankly, “I indeed misjudged you.” He was filled with regret, but it was too late. He was worried about Hong Yun. If it was a trap, then his boss was also in danger. He felt heartbroken for causing harm to his boss due to his poor judgment. But he didn’t even get a chance to regret it. At that moment, Sun Ming said harshly, “Though we’re friends, in this world, enemies are enemies!” With that, he pulled a dagger from his sleeve and thrust it deep into Sheng Yunfei’s heart.
Sheng Yunfei didn’t even have time to scream. He died confused, at the hands of the very friend he trusted the most. The ten men he brought with him had already been surrounded. Dozens of guns were pointed at their heads. He Cheng smirked and said to Sun Ming, “You’ve earned a great reputation this time. If everything goes well, you’ll soon be on par with me!”
Sun Ming quickly replied, “How could that be? It’s all thanks to Brother He’s guidance.” He Cheng laughed and said, “Excellent! I like smart people the most!”

It was not until Hong Yun reached the third floor that he realized there was no sign of He Cheng at all. He wasn’t stupid and immediately understood what was going on, inwardly shouting in alarm. He quickly shouted, “It’s a trap! Everyone, retreat!” Retreat where? It was easy to get in but hard to get out. There were at least a hundred people downstairs with knives, charging up to fight. The two sides clashed in the stairwell, weapons clashing as a bloody battle ensued. White blades flashed, and red blood flowed. With over a hundred people crammed into a small space, there was no room to dodge. With each slash, blood sprayed, followed by screams. The larger group had the advantage—when one fell, several others stepped in to take their place. Blades swung wildly, and many of those brought by Hong Yun were soon covered in blood. They were indeed his elite fighters, fighting fiercely. Even though they were wounded and bleeding profusely, they continued to swing their knives at their opponents. One man had his abdomen pierced by several knives, with holes all over and red and white intestines spilling out. He covered himself with his hand, unfazed, and swung his knife at the man across from him, cutting through his neck in half. Both men fell at the same time. Many on both sides collapsed, and before they could get up, those behind them trampled on them, killing countless people.

Seeing his brothers lying on the ground, bleeding and convulsing, Hong Yun’s heart ached terribly. These men had fought side by side with him through countless battles, but today they died in someone else’s trap. He couldn’t decide whether to feel sorrow or rage. With bloodshot eyes, he roared and fired his gun at the enemy. Several bullets were used up in no time. He threw the gun aside, drew his hidden knife, and charged madly forward. Hong Yun was extraordinary—his skills matched his appearance. With each slash, his force was immense, breaking bones and tendons in those who tried to block him; no one could match him. Seeing their leader so brave, the other men became even more frenzied, their passion reaching its peak. They didn’t dodge or flinch when the enemy swung a knife at them but instead struck back at their vital points. This reckless fighting style was terrifying. Of He Cheng’s hundred men, fewer than ten managed to retreat.

He Cheng’s men retreated in defeat. Hong Yun had even fewer soldiers left—only six of his thirty elites—and they were all injured. His heart ached, and tears nearly streamed down his face. Gritting his teeth, he shouted, “Brothers, fight with me! We’ll definitely avenge him later!” No sooner had he spoken than over a hundred more men rushed up from below, wielding steel knives, shouting loudly with blood-red eyes, each one fierce as a wolf or tiger. He Cheng roared, “Kill them!” and charged first, his momentum undiminished despite facing a hundred men. With a swift swing of his knife, he sliced through the chests of the two men at the front, splashing blood all over Hong Yun’s face. His dark purple complexion, marked with bloodstains, was terrifying.

Some of He Cheng’s men recognized him. Someone shouted, “It’s Hong Yun! The boss said a reward of five hundred thousand and two rank upgrades await whoever kills him!” These words filled the timid with courage and drove the bold mad. The hundred men cheered and charged at Hong Yun. With a cold smile, Hong Yun declared, “Come if you’re willing to die!” He swung his steel knife like lightning, its edge flashing everywhere. In just a short while, more than a dozen men were injured by his blade.

Hong Yun was like a war god from ancient times, blocking the stairs. Despite having a hundred men, He Cheng’s forces couldn’t take a single step forward. By the end, Hong Yun’s knife was worn out. He tried to get a new one, but his opponents wouldn’t give him the chance. At the same time, five men rushed up to him, swinging their knives at him. Hong Yun let out a loud roar, parrying with his broken knife while looking for an opportunity. Then, the five men attacked together. The one closest to him was slightly slower in swinging his knife. Hong Yun seized the chance instantly. With lightning-fast movements, he grabbed the man’s throat, pulled him back, and four knives struck the man at the same time. In an instant, Hong Yun took the man’s knife, swung it horizontally, and the chests of the four men burst open.

Half an hour later, few people were still standing in the stairwell. He Cheng’s men retreated once again, with over twenty of them going back. Hong Yun called for more men, but this time there were none left around him—none of his thirty capable assistants could stand. He slumped down on the stairs, gasping for breath. His hand holding the knife had gone numb and trembled uncontrollably from exhaustion. Less than a minute after sitting down, He Cheng’s men came up again, this time in overwhelming numbers—too many to count. Hong Yun let out a long sigh, filled with resentment. He had great ambitions and an exceptional mind, yet today he was to die at the hands of someone else’s trickery. His own death wasn’t a big deal, but the Hongmen’s influence in Nanjing would surely be weakened. How could he face the old master or the Northern Hongmen? He sighed again, stood up shakily, tore off a piece of cloth, tied it around his hand, and murmured, “Hong Yun fails the old master. I die in battle today to repay his kindness in recognizing my talents.”

At that moment, a man came up from downstairs—bald and shiny—none other than He Cheng. He glanced around the stairwell, where blood flowed like a river, dripping down. The ground was covered with severed limbs and people unconscious from countless wounds. The stench of blood hit him as soon as he got closer. He covered his nose with a handkerchief, looked at Hong Yun, and grinned, “Brother Hong, are you still ready to fight?”

Hong Yun glared at him, eager to rush over and slash off his bald head. But he held back and said coldly, “I ask you—where is Sheng Yunfei now?”

He Cheng smiled and pointed to the sky, staying silent. Hong Yun understood what he meant and felt a sharp pain in his heart. It seemed Yunfei was dead—he hadn’t betrayed him. After a long while, he gathered his strength and shouted, “He Cheng, send your men up! Don’t try to persuade me to surrender—that would be an insult to me. If you’re still a man!”

He Cheng sighed and said, “How many years have we fought in Nanjing?” Hong Yun replied, “Four years.” He Cheng said, “Four years is quite a long time. How many such periods does one have in life?” Hong Yun agreed, “Four years is indeed long.” He Cheng smiled and said, “Actually, I admire you—brave and resourceful. But we can’t be friends.” Hong Yun said, “Different paths lead to different destinations. I won’t blame you for my death today; I only resent myself for being too eager for glory!” He Cheng said, “I’m puzzled. You’ve always been cautious—why did you act differently this time…”

Ge Yu smiled upside down and said, “I met someone—a person who makes my blood boil with excitement. I bet that within five years, the Northern Hongmen will surely crush the Southern Hongmen.” His eyes were dreamy as he sighed, “He truly has the ability to do it. I really want to go fight alongside you! I really want to battle at your side!”
Gan Cheng knew that Hong Yu wouldn’t exaggerate at such a time, so he asked, “Who is that person?”
Regaining his composure, Hong Yu’s face turned red. He snapped his sword, producing a crisp sound, and exuded an overwhelming aura as he said, “Why haven’t you sent anyone to fight me yet?”
Gan Cheng had no choice but to wave his hand at his subordinates. The men below could no longer hold back. At the leader’s signal, they all raised their swords and charged forward.
Ge Yu had planned to use a trick to kill the rival’s branch leader and then drive the Southern Hongmen out of Nanjing in one go. But he was outmaneuvered—He Cheng used his own plan against him. It was tragic; despite being clever, Hong Yu ended up being killed by a barrage of blows.
In the battle of Tian Shui, the Northern Hongmen suffered heavy losses. Their leader, Hong Yu, and his trusted assistant, Sheng Yunfei, both died in battle. With their leaders gone, chaos ensued in the Nanjing branch. The Southern Hongmen seemed to have been prepared. As soon as Hong Yu died, hundreds of their men attacked the Northern Hongmen’s branch. After all, the Northern Hongmen was a gang with strict discipline, and its members fought bravely. But the enemy was too numerous, and their own ranks were disorganized. After repelling one wave of attackers, they didn’t even get a chance to catch their breath before another wave arrived. Just as they managed to fend off the second wave, a third wave from the Southern Hongmen came. Wave after wave, relentlessly. After repelling the third wave, the Northern Hongmen had no strength left to fight and were forced to retreat. The Nanjing branch fell into the hands of the Southern Hongmen.
It was then that Dong Xinlei arrived. After getting a general idea of the situation in Nanjing, he wasn’t surprised to hear that the branch had been lost—things were done by humans, and what was lost could be regained! But when he heard that Hong Yu had died as a result of a trick, he was shocked. He knew Hong Yu well—the old master often said he was a talented person with both courage and strategy. Dong Xinlei had known him for two or three years and agreed that he truly was as the old master described. But why had he been so impulsive this time, falling for someone else’s scheme? His death wasn’t a great loss, but it led to continuous defeats for their side, putting them in a passive position. Hong Yu’s subordinates told Dong Xinlei that although Brother Hong had died in battle, he had made the Southern Hongmen pay a bloody price—hundreds of them were killed or injured. Hearing this, Dong Xinlei sighed deeply and shook his head, saying bitterly, “Even if the Southern Hongmen have over a thousand men, they’re still no match for Hong Yu alone!”

From this point on, the conflict between the Northern and Southern Hongmen officially broke out, like a massive vortex that swept thousands of people into it and determined the future direction of the underworld. Xie Wendong also plunged into this vortex, but without fear—only excitement, enjoying the thrill of outwitting others, that feeling that made his blood boil!