Chapter 256

Jiang Sen walked over, looked in the direction the man had disappeared, and sighed, “What a strange guy.” Xie Wendong laughed and said, “Lao Sen, how long have you been here?” Jiang Sen replied, “I was here as soon as that man appeared.” Xie Wendong sighed again, picked up the broken knife on the ground, and glanced at the gun in Jiang Sen’s hand before saying regretfully, “So that means I wasn’t guessing about that shot?!”
Jiang Sen gave a reluctant smile and said tactfully, “Shooting has never been Dong Ge’s strong point.” Gao Qiang suddenly spoke up, “Lao Sen, you’re well-informed. Who is that man?” Jiang Sen shook his head and said, “I had never seen this man before he appeared, nor had I heard of such a person. Otherwise, I would have remembered him.” It was the truth—given that man’s appearance, it would be hard to forget such a striking face even after years. Gao Qiang murmured, “Who on earth could he be?” Xie Wendong looked up and said, “There are only three possibilities: either the Nan Hongmen, the Soul Group, or maybe he’s connected to those who tried to assassinate me by the river.”
“Oh?” Gao Qiang’s eyes lit up. “Then we really should keep him around.” Xie Wendong laughed and said, “It’s a pity. That man’s strength is something I’ve only seen once in my life. Although I had a gun and his knife was only half its original length, his gaze made it clear he could indeed do what he said.”
Gao Qiang, competitive and unwilling to admit defeat, said, “I don’t believe his speed can surpass that of a gun.” Jiang Sen sighed, a hint of confusion in his eyes, and said, “The knife he thrust out was almost as fast as a bullet. In an instant, it was at Qiangzi’s throat. I think this might already exceed human limits.” Xie Wendong said, “But you still managed to block his knife.”
Jiang Sen gave a bitter smile and said, “That was purely instinctive—something developed from years of using a gun. If I and Qiangzi had been in opposite positions, instead of just watching, I’d likely be lying dead right now.”
Xie Wendong put away his gun, shook out his clothes, and said, “No matter who he is or how powerful he is, it’s best not to mess with me.” With that, he waved his hand and said, “Get in the car.”

“Where’s Peng Ling?” Gao Qiang asked. “She’s asleep.” Sitting in the car, Xie Wendong asked, “Lao Sen, have you found out Wu Ming’s address?” Jiang Sen nodded and smiled. “Yeah, there are five of them—four men and one woman—staying on the eighth floor of the Singapore Hotel.” “Good!” Xie Wendong nodded. He checked his watch and calculated the date. It had been over half a month since he returned to City H. The war between the North and South had reached a critical stage, and it was time to go back. Some matters needed to be resolved sooner or later. Calmly, he said, “In a few days, I plan to head to Nanjing.”
Jiang Sen was shocked inwardly but showed no reaction on his face. He simply replied, “Okay, Brother Dong. Then I need to prepare well during these three days.”
Gao Qiang raised the corner of his mouth but said nothing. There was no need to ask—he would definitely go with Brother Dong this time. Jiang Sen had talked to him a lot about the fierce battle between the North and South since his return, describing it vividly and enthusiastically each time. Now that he thought he could participate too, he became excited. It was a pity, though, that no such large-scale battle had occurred since then.
Now, under the leadership of Dong Xinlei, the Northern Hongmen were advancing swiftly. With the defeat of Xiao Fang, the key leaders of the Southern Hongmen were temporarily absent, and no one dared to confront the formidable Dong Xinlei. They all retreated, pushing the front lines of the Northern Hongmen all the way to the economic heartland of the Southern Hongmen—Shanghai. Shanghai was different from other cities. It was among the most developed cities in mainland China, with planning and management comparable to that of the capital, Beijing. Attempting to stage another battle involving over a thousand people there would likely result in direct military suppression. Xie Wendong was bold, but not foolish, and the same went for Xiang Wentian. It was here that they would truly engage in a battle of wits.
The next day, as soon as Xie Wendong got up, he called Peng Ling first to ask how she had slept last night. Peng Ling still seemed upset and replied, “Without you, the bed doesn’t feel so crowded.”
Hearing this, Xie Wendong shook his head with a wry smile while drinking milk. Sanyan, who was eating with him, pricked up his ears, heard the gist of it, and laughed, “Women, right? When you ignore them, they come to you, hoping you’ll get close. But when you get close, they push you away quickly, as if you don’t exist.”

Li Shuang’s mouth almost curled down to his ears as he muttered, “Don’t speak in such lofty terms. Do you really know much about women?” Sanyan smiled and said, “At least more than you do. By the way, Xiaoshuang, you’re still a virgin, right?” “You damned bastard!” Li Shuang’s face turned red when he was hit in his weak point. He raised a fried dough stick, ready to fight fiercely with Sanyan. As he swung his arm, the stick flailed in front of Gao Qiang, who frowned deeply and complained, “What are you doing? Can’t we even eat in peace?” Xie Wendong watched these three “clowns” and laughed heartily.

At that moment, one of the underlings brought over today’s newspaper, with the two big characters “Severe Crackdown” on the front page standing out sharply. He slapped his forehead and laughed, “It’s the end of the year again—time for another severe crackdown.”

“Tch!” Sanyan sneered, “Year after year, severe crackdowns, yet nothing really gets cracked down on.” These words happened to be heard by Ren Changfeng, who had just woken up and come downstairs to look for food. Rubbing his eyes, he saw everyone there and chuckled, “The severe crackdowns are only for those without any backing!” Without being invited, he pulled up a chair and sat down at the dining table.

Sanyan glanced at him and asked, “Where are you from?” Since Ren Changfeng had almost fought with Sanyan as soon as he arrived in City H, Sanyan had a poor first impression of him, thinking he was too arrogant and didn’t respect anyone. Sanyan, on the other hand, was an absolute king in City H—whether in the legitimate or illegal circles, everyone treated him with respect. When two equally arrogant people got together, trouble was bound to arise. Ren Changfeng replied proudly, “Beijing.”

“Beijing?” Sanyan laughed heartily. “What a great place—the capital!” Nonsense! Ren Changfeng shot him a disdainful look. If it weren’t for Xie Wendong being there, he would have already retorted. Sanyan added, “But I wonder—are all people from Beijing as rude and shamelessly arrogant as you?” Upon hearing this, Jiang Sen quickly turned his head, spitting out the milk he had just drunk. Given Ren Changfeng’s temper, it was easy to guess his reaction.

Sure enough, Ren Changfeng slammed the table, sending plates and utensils flying into the air. Pointing at Sanyan’s nose, he was about to curse violently, but when he turned to look at Xie Wendong, he suppressed his anger and reminded himself not to lose control in front of Brother Dong. “Forget it. I’ll endure it.” He took two deep breaths before finally saying coldly, “An ignorant second-rate scumbag.”

His words immediately angered the Three-Eyed man and his two iron brothers. Li Shuang and Gao Qiang both frowned and clenched their fists. With a soft crack, the chopsticks in Li Shuang’s hand broke, his small eyes blazing as he glared at Ren Changfeng. Usually, there were constant arguments among the Three-Eyed man, Li Shuang, and Gao Qiang, especially Zhang Gao and the others, who took pleasure in bullying Li Shuang. But when it came to a real confrontation, the three of them would stick together. Although Ren Changfeng was also one of Xie Wendong’s men, he belonged to the Northern Hongmen faction and had little connection with the Wendong Gang. If he hadn’t been brought here by Xie Wendong, these three would likely have smashed Ren Changfeng’s proud face into a mess. Jiang Sen had worked with him for a long time and knew his temper well. He was actually a good person, but seeing things turn bad, he quickly pulled at his sleeve secretly and shook his head repeatedly. Ren Changfeng, still angry, didn’t appreciate it at all. Shaking off his sleeve, he said indignantly, “Why are you pulling me? What I said is all the truth.” This guy! Sigh! Jiang Sen could only sigh helplessly; he really had no idea what to do with him.

His words only made matters worse. Even Gao Qiang, who was usually silent, could hardly hold back. As for the hot-tempered Li Shuang, needless to say. Ignoring who was present, he suddenly stood up, kicked the chair under him away, and pointed at Ren Changfeng angrily, shouting, “If you don’t accept it, come out!” Then he walked outside. Ren Changfeng glanced at him disdainfully, stood up without a word, and followed him out. Before leaving, he threw a remark at the Three-Eyed man that almost bent his nose from anger. “You guys? I don’t even care about you. If you’re afraid your brother will suffer, you can join in too. I’ll take it all.” “Damn it!” The Three-Eyed man gritted his teeth and said to Xie Wendong, “Brother Dong, what kind of person did you bring? Has he grown a face? He’s driving me crazy!”

Xie Wendong turned a blind eye to the conflict between the Three-Eyed man and the others and Ren Changfeng, which was essentially a clash between the Wendong Gang and the Northern Hongmen, and continued to eat his breakfast calmly, sipping oil sticks and drinking milk. He simply said, “He’s a proud person, but indeed, he has reason to be proud. I quite admire him.”

“Hehe!” The Three-Eyed man laughed weirdly, twisted his neck, causing it to crack, and said, “Brother Dong, it seems I really need to compete with him. From what I remember, not many people have ever been praised by you.” Xie Wendong looked up for a long time before seriously saying, “Indeed, not many.”

Ren Changfeng and Li Shuang stepped out of the villa. The former pulled a strip of cloth from somewhere, gave it a tug—finding it fairly sturdy—unbuttoned his coat, threw it aside, and drew the dagger he carried at his waist. Wrapping the cloth around the dagger, he hummed and said, “Kid, don’t get beaten so badly that you end up crying for your mother!”

Ren Changfeng sneered, took out his Tang dao, stood in a fixed stance, and said proudly, “Come at me then.” Li Shuang had never seen a Tang dao before and was somewhat curious. He examined it closely: the blade was about three feet long and two fingers thick, straight except for a slight curve at the tip, completely black with no luster. His first impression was that it was a Japanese katana. With a cold laugh, he said, “Chinese people using Japanese weapons? You must not be very good.” “Farmer!” Ren Changfeng snorted disdainfully, looking down on him from the bottom of his heart. Carefully holding the hilt of his blade, he didn’t bother with idle talk and said, “Let me tell you, this is called a Tang dao. But it’s useless telling you—probably you’ve never even heard of it.”

Li Shuang’s face turned red. Ren Changfeng was right; he indeed had never heard of it. But he pretended to understand. Narrowing his eyes, he said calmly, “How could I not know? A Tang dao isn’t just a sword from the Tang Dynasty? You think you can scare people with some old antique?” Ren Changfeng felt like spitting blood.

The third-eyed man who came out later pressed his forehead, feeling ashamed. He shouted at Li Shuang, “Stop talking nonsense! If you’re not going to fight, get out of the way!”

Li Shuang said no more. He stretched his limbs, assumed a fighting stance, and got ready to attack. His posture was strange—his upper body leaned forward, the blade and arm aligned in a straight line behind him, with his head thrust forward as if inviting the other to cut off his head. For Ren Changfeng, who had received systematic training, this posture was utterly ridiculous. But for Li Shuang, it was the most comfortable and suitable stance for attacking. The guys in the yard, not understanding what was going on, gathered around. Fearing misunderstandings, the third-eyed man shouted, “It’s nothing, just a regular spar.” “Oh!” Everyone nodded in understanding, but none left, and more people kept coming over.

At that moment, Li Shuang suddenly moved. With a fierce shout, he thrust his head forward and charged at Ren Changfeng, his short legs moving at lightning speed—so fast it was like a charging rhinoceros. As his head neared Ren Changfeng, he swung his arm behind his back and slashed downward. Though the blade was wrapped in cloth, combined with the momentum from his charge and the strength of his arm, it weighed as much as a thousand pounds, emitting a shrill, piercing sound as it fell. Ren Changfeng remained as steady as a mountain, neither dodging nor avoiding—wanting to see just how strong Li Shuang’s arm was. With a loud shout of “Good!” he raised his blade to meet it. With a dull thud, the two parted immediately. Ren Changfeng stumbled back three steps before regaining his balance, shaking violently from his wrists to his shoulders, feeling a tingling numbness. Li Shuang stepped back as well, his palms numb and his wrists throbbing in pain. Almost simultaneously, both of them exclaimed, “Not bad!”

San Yan, watching from the side, nodded in approval. It seemed Ren Changfeng was indeed no ordinary person. Although he had stepped back two more times than Li Shuang, being on the defensive and meeting the attack head-on cost him far more than Li Shuang, who took advantage of the momentum. In reality, this round was a draw between the two.

“It’s my turn!” With a collision, Ren Changfeng no longer dared underestimate Li Shuang. He dropped his carelessness but his fighting spirit was ignited. With a laugh, he leaped upward and thrust his blade downward at Li Shuang’s forehead. This was his most common move, also a probing one—fast, tricky, and with varying angles, capable of changing from a thrust to a downward slash.

Li Shuang’s moves were mostly developed through his own combat experiences, with no fixed pattern, aiming to deliver the greatest force to the opponent’s weakest points in the shortest time possible. Seeing Ren Changfeng’s unexpected attack, he chuckled, stepped back slightly to avoid the blade’s tip, then slashed horizontally from left to right.

Ren Changfeng smiled in approval. It seemed this little fatty was much smarter and stronger than he had imagined. As he fell from the air and Li Shuang’s blade came at him, there was no way to avoid it. He had to pull back his blade to save himself, leaving no room for any other moves. With another dull thud, the two blades collided, sending Ren Changfeng flying sideways.

He tried to control his body before hitting the ground, but as soon as his feet touched the snow, he slipped and fell hard on his buttocks. Under normal circumstances, his skills would have allowed him to stay steady, but he forgot this was the north, with a thick layer of snow on the ground. Seeing him fall, Li Shuang was delighted. How could he miss this chance? He rushed forward eagerly with his blade raised.