Chapter 307

Xie Wendong and Bo Zhanhui prepared for battle, with members of the two gangs around them automatically making way to give them enough space to move. Xie Wendong weighed the machete in his hand and said to Bo Zhanhui, “You can show your weapon now.” Bo Zhanhui, with empty hands, replied coldly, “I’ll use it when the time comes.” Xie Wendong sneered, swung the machete, and said, “If that’s the case, I won’t hold back.” Bo Zhanhui said, “You can strike at any time.” “Good!” Xie Wendong shouted, and at the same time, he swung the machete fiercely at Bo Zhanhui’s throat, the blade slicing through the air with a shrill whistling sound. Bo Zhanhui cried out, “Nice try!” and quickly leaned back; the blade grazed his nose tip. Before Xie Wendong could recover, Bo Zhanhui lifted his foot and kicked him in the groin. The groin is a vital part of the body—if hit by such a kick, one would either die or be disabled. Unexpecting the opponent’s agility, Xie Wendong didn’t dare neglect his defense. He bent his legs, jumped into the air, and as he was in mid-air, he quickly pulled his legs together, using his heels to block Bo Zhanhui’s kicking foot, while using all his strength to swing the machete at the opponent’s forehead. “Whoa!” Bo Zhanhui was too late to dodge. He crossed his arms to block, and with a loud clang, Xie Wendong was flung more than a meter backward. He stumbled back two steps before barely managing to stand steady. Bo Zhanhui wasn’t much better off—he tried to sink lower, but couldn’t withstand the force of Xie Wendong’s downward strike. He slid nearly half a meter across the ground, his arms tingling slightly. His sleeves, damaged from the collision with the machete, revealed shiny metal objects inside. Xie Wendong’s palms hurt from the impact. Narrowing his eyes, he saw that Bo Zhanhui wore steel guards on his arms—no wonder he dared to block his powerful strike with his arms. Bo Zhanhui tore off his sleeves, revealing the full extent of the steel guards. Clearly, these guards were meticulously crafted, completely smooth, with dragon-shaped engravings. Thicker at the top and thinner at the bottom, they fit perfectly to the shape of the arm, making them almost invisible when worn. With a shake of his arms, Bo Zhanhui brought out two short blades, each about one and a half feet long, wider at the back and narrower at the front, with hollow blood grooves. Under the streetlight, the blades shimmered with an eerie glow—anyone who saw them could tell their steel quality was top-notch.

Bo Zhanhui folded his arms slightly and wiped his short blades. Everyone thought he had something to say, but instead he suddenly rushed forward, swinging his blades up and down to strike Xie Wendong’s throat and lower abdomen. Xie Wendong curled his lips, showing no concern for the fierce attack. He thought Bo Zhanhui’s speed was as slow as in slow motion compared to Cang Lang’s dual swords. In fact, Bo Zhanhui wasn’t slow—how many people in the world could compare to Cang Lang?! With a single hand, Xie Wendong deflected the blade aimed at his throat, then shifted his body to the side. Bo Zhanhui’s other blade pierced two holes in his clothes and slid through. This was exactly what Xie Wendong wanted. He suddenly twisted his body, and before Bo Zhanhui could pull out his blade, it got caught in his clothes. “Lie down!” Xie Wendong shouted sharply and jumped backward with all his strength. Bo Zhanhui’s blade was entangled, straining his arm as he leaned forward, almost falling. Thanks to his quick reaction, he planted his other blade in the ground to steady himself. Then, with a loud roar, he used the momentum to flip through the air, tearing Xie Wendong’s clothes to shreds before finally pulling out his blade. Xie Wendong stepped back several times and looked down. His clothes had two fist-sized holes from Bo Zhanhui’s blade, allowing cold wind to blow through.

Impressive! Xie Wendong thought to himself. He unbuttoned his clothes, threw them aside, revealing his white shirt underneath. “Bang!” He shook the mountain-cutting knife in his hand and gestured at Bo Zhanhui, telling him to continue. Bo Zhanhui growled and swung his blades like arrows, aiming to strike Xie Wendong’s eyes.

Xie Wendong didn’t move at all. He gathered his energy, preparing to unleash his decisive move. The blades got closer and closer to his eyes. Even Lian Sanyan was stunned, wide-mouthed. At such close range, he wasn’t confident he could escape unscathed. Just as he was about to pull out his gun, Xie Wendong slipped and spun around. It looked like a ballet dancer performing, his movements smooth and effortless. But only he knew that every step he took in that spin was extraordinary—forged through countless hours of sweat and falls.

Bo Zhanhui saw that he had struck both sides, and even a look of surprise appeared in his eyes. But just then, Xie Wendong vanished right before his eyes, as if he had never existed at all—where he had stood before was now empty. Ghost! That was the word that flashed through Bo Zhanhui’s mind. There are no ghosts in the world, and Xie Wendong certainly isn’t one. With a quick turn, Xie Wendong ended up behind Bo Zhanhui, channeling all his accumulated strength into his arms. He leaped high and swung his blade at the back of Bo Zhanhui’s head. Perhaps Xie Wendong used too much force; before the blade could even land, Bo Zhanhui felt a violent impact at the back of his head, causing excruciating pain in his neck, accompanied by a roaring sound like that of a fighter jet flying overhead. Realizing the danger, Bo Zhanhui hastily tried to defend himself, raising his arms above his head.

Two consecutive sounds—“clang” and “crack”—were heard, followed by Bo Zhanhui’s cry of pain. He stumbled forward several steps, crashing into the crowd around him. His abdomen contracted and relaxed as he spat out a mouthful of blood, his strength fading rapidly as he collapsed weakly to the ground. Looking at the two short blades on his wrists, he saw cracks the size of soybeans on each one.

Xie Wendong also suffered greatly—his arms were numb and drooped uselessly, as if they didn’t belong to him and he couldn’t lift them at all. With a “clang,” his axe fell to the ground. His expression darkened for a moment before returning to normal. He walked slowly toward Bo Zhanhui, his smiling eyes almost turning into two black lines. With arrogance, he said, “With your skills, I could easily defeat you even without a knife.” He spoke casually, but only he knew the pain he endured; others thought he had thrown away the knife on purpose to show off.

Bo Zhanhui sat on the ground, gasping for breath for a long time before finally calming down a bit. He spat out more blood, clearing the blood buildup in his chest, which made him feel somewhat better. Using the short blades to prop himself up, he nodded at Xie Wendong and said with a bitter smile, “I lost. I’m at your mercy. If you want to fight, go ahead. If you’re really a man, don’t humiliate me.”

Xie Wendong looked up at the sky, his face showing no expression. No one knew what he was thinking. After a long while, he said, “Go away.”

“What?” Bo Zhanhui wondered if he had heard wrong—this didn’t seem like something the ruthless Xie Wendong would say. Frowning, he said, “I’ve already admitted I lost. You…” “I said you can go!” Xie Wendong said proudly, “I never go back on my word.” Ah! Bo Zhanhui took a breath; he really couldn’t understand what the other man was thinking. Doubtful, he asked, “Are you really letting me go?” Xie Wendong smiled and said, “I don’t want to say it a third time.” “Aren’t you afraid I’ll retaliate?” Bo Zhanhui gasped for breath.

“Haha!” Xie Wendong laughed heartily and said proudly, “Feel free to try anytime. I’ve killed so many people and offended so many others that even I can’t keep track. If I were afraid of retaliation, wouldn’t I not even need to sleep?!”, he added. Bo Zhanhui stared at Xie Wendong for a long time before sighing deeply, filled with emotion. “People say you, Xie Wendong, are cunning, but today I finally understand why you’ve achieved what you have!” He stamped his foot, sheathed his dual blades, bowed to Xie Wendong in submission, and said, “I owe you my life! From now on, there will be no more enmity between my Zhongyi Gang and your Beihongmen. Wherever you are, I’ll step back. If you need any help, I’ll do my utmost. If not, this clothes will be proof!” With that, he pulled back his robe, tore off the hem with a rustling sound, and threw it on the ground.

“Hehe!” Xie Wendong smiled slightly and walked toward his camp. Reaching the car, he stopped, turned around, and flashed a bright smile. “Maybe we’ll become friends in the future!” After saying that, he nodded at his subordinate. The subordinate was confused, not understanding what he meant. Xie Wendong silently cursed him for being stupid and said helplessly, “Open the car door!”

“Oh, oh, okay!” The subordinate replied quickly, fumbling to open the door. He had been with Xie Wendong for quite some time and wondered why Dongge didn’t usually have others open the door for him. What was different today? Xie Wendong got into the car smiling, followed by Sanyan and Dongxinlei. The car started and slowly turned, heading home. Sanyan couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, “Dongge, I’m not satisfied just driving around Bo Zhanhui like this. After all, we’ve already hurt so many of our brothers!”

Xie Wendong nodded and said, “I know!” Dong Xinlei continued, “Moreover, Bo Zhanhui isn’t a very good person—he’s cunning. He might seem nice now, but who knows if he won’t stab us in the back at any moment?” Xie Wendong nodded and smiled, “I know!” San Yan added, “According to Old Liu, Bo Zhanhui dares to confront us head-on this time because he seems to have the support of the Nan Hongmen. If that’s true, it’s better to get rid of him as soon as possible.” Xie Wendong smiled and said, “I know!”

He repeated “I know” three times, leaving San Yan and Dong Xinlei stunned. Confused, they asked together, “Since Brother Dong knows everything, why did he still let him go?”

Xie Wendong gave a bitter smile. Leaning back in his chair, he said, “Do you think I wanted to? That fight seemed like I won, but actually I lost. Right now, I don’t even have the strength to lift my hands, while Bo Zhanhui only spat blood. Just blood!” He emphasized his words, shaking his head in dismay. “Ah?” San Yan and Dong Xinlei immediately grabbed Xie Wendong’s hands. Their palms were swollen, and their fingers trembled slightly. “I see!” They suddenly understood. No wonder Brother Dong let him go—this was completely different from the Brother Dong they knew. Xie Wendong smiled and said, “If I had turned against him back then and pushed Bo Zhanhui to the brink, how could I have matched him without the strength in my hands? Even if you could hold him off, anything could happen in the chaos. I didn’t want to take that risk. It’s not that I’m worried about my own life, but if something happens to me, I’m afraid you won’t be able to deal with Xiang Wentian. Then all our efforts over the years would be in vain.” San Yan and Dong Xinlei exchanged a look and had nothing left to say. Brother Dong was incredibly cautious and meticulous in his actions—far beyond ordinary people. Moreover, he was more tired than anyone else. While others only had to consider their own safety, Brother Dong had to bear the responsibility for everyone in the gang. He had to be accountable for one or even two gangs. The pressure was so great that San Yan and Dong Xinlei felt scared just thinking about it. They said in unison, “Brother Dong, we understand!”

The conflict between the North Hongmen and the Loyalty Gang came to an abrupt end with a one-on-one fight between Xie Wendong and Bo Zhanhui. Xie Wendong won, but even he felt the victory was dishonorable and humiliating—he failed to accomplish what should have been done, namely keeping Bo Zhanhui alive. Xie Wendong was by no means a magnanimous person; it wouldn’t have bothered him if it were Wen Tian, but it felt like a needle had pierced his heart, leaving him uneasy until it was removed. Back at Xianhua, Sanyan and the others busied themselves preparing ice and medicinal wine. Jiang Lin stayed awake the whole time, unwilling to sleep, and when she saw everyone carrying Xie Wendong back, her heart trembled. She rushed over to check and was relieved to see no wounds on him and that his complexion seemed normal. Not daring to ask Xie Wendong, she pulled Dong Xinlei aside and bombarded him with questions: “What happened to Mr. Xie? Is he injured? What did you do to Bo Zhanhui?” Being questioned by a beautiful woman was always pleasant, so Dong Xinlei deliberately rolled his eyes and joked, “You’re asking so many things at once. Which one should I answer first?” Jiang Lin had no mood for jokes. She glanced at him and asked, “Is Mr. Xie injured?” “Yes!” Seeing Jiang Lin’s worried expression, Dong Xinlei replied seriously, “It’s just a minor injury. He’ll be fine after a few days of rest.” “Ah, I see!” Jiang Lin nodded, finally relieved. After a while, she asked, “What about Bo Zhanhui? Is he dead?” At the mention of Bo Zhanhui, Dong Xinlei’s expression darkened. Gritting his teeth, he said, “This time he’s lucky. He’ll get to live a few more days. Brother Dong has already said Bo Zhanhui must be eliminated sooner or later.” After a pause, he frowned at Jiang Lin suspiciously and asked, “It seems you care a lot about Bo Zhanhui’s life and death. Are you two related?!” Jiang Lin replied firmly, “I hate him!” “Why?” Dong Xinlei pressed. Her expression changed, realizing she might have said too much. She deliberately huffed and pretended to be angry, saying, “He destroyed the hotel I built with so much effort. Don’t you think I should hate him?” Dong Xinlei looked around, sensing the tension. He understood Jiang Lin’s feelings and comforted her, “Don’t worry. We’ll avenge you sooner or later, and I promise it won’t take long.” Jiang Lin mused, “I hope so.”