Chapter 205

Lingmin curled her lips and rolled her eyes, saying, “It seems you don’t understand the situation. I’m not trying to help you—I just want to kill the enemy’s commander.” Ren Changfeng’s face turned red as he mumbled, “There’s no need to be so direct!” Hearing their conversation, the subordinates nearby couldn’t help but snicker. They cleaned up the battlefield, dealing with the corpses and wounded left by the Nan Hongmen—burying those who needed to be buried and sending the rest to the hospital. When it was over, the police showed up in the usual clichéd manner. Usually, they didn’t show up at critical moments; by the time they did, everything was already over. Although this battle ended with the Nan Hongmen retreating, they hadn’t actually lost. The numbers on both sides were roughly equal, and the losses were similar. However, Zhang Jufeng had been wounded by Lingmin’s blade. After returning, Xiao Fang examined his wound and, seeing it wasn’t serious, complained, “How careless! Who hurt you?” Zhang Jufeng closed his eyes, Lingmin’s cold beauty appearing before him, and said with a smile, “A woman! A woman even more beautiful than a rose!” “You can still laugh about it?” Xiao Fang snapped. “It must be a thorny rose!” Zhang Jufeng sighed, “She must be ‘Lingmin’, the third-place winner. I just didn’t expect her blade to be so fast—she didn’t give me a chance to escape unscathed.” Xiao Fang’s expression turned serious as he said, “Lingmin isn’t an ordinary woman. Don’t have any improper thoughts. There are already enough lechers under the peony flowers.” After repelling Zhang Jufeng’s attack, Ren Changfeng was the most excited. As he walked back to the hall, he waved his knife and kept muttering to himself, “What a pity… really a pity.” Wei Zidan, standing nearby, was puzzled and asked, “Brother Feng, we’ve already repelled the Nan Hongmen—what are you sorry about?” Before Ren Changfeng could answer, Lingmin said, “What else could he be sorry about? He’ll definitely say, ‘What a pity! If I had used my own knife, Zhang Jufeng wouldn’t have been able to escape.’ Right?” Ren Changfeng laughed heartily and nodded repeatedly. “No one knows me better than Xiao Min!” He noticed that neither Xie Wendong nor Lingmin was smiling, especially the former, whose brows were slightly furrowed. He asked, “Brother Dong, why do you seem unhappy?” Xie Wendong shook his head. “I’m neither unhappy nor happy. I’m just thinking about a problem.” “A problem?” Ren Changfeng was puzzled. “What problem?” Xie Wendong asked, “Don’t you find it strange? The Nan Hongmen weren’t originally at a disadvantage, yet they still lost.”

Ren Changfeng laughed and said, “I thought Dong Ge was wondering about something strange?! Zhang Jufeng was wounded by Xiao Min, so of course he wouldn’t fight anymore. Once he left, how could the men below not be defeated?” Xie Wendong waved his finger and said with a smile, “But Xiao Fang still hasn’t shown up. They still have at least three thousand men left unassigned. How do we explain that?” Ren Changfeng thought for a moment and said, “Maybe the South Hongmen just wants to fight a small, probing battle.” Xie Wendong replied, “This isn’t probing. If they wanted to test us, they wouldn’t come to our stronghold to do so, nor would they send a general like Zhang Jufeng!” Ren Changfeng wasn’t stupid either. After Xie Wendong’s reminder, he sensed something was off and asked, “Then what do they want?” Xie Wendong narrowed his eyes and pondered, “Letting themselves be defeated while pretending to be invincible—they probably want to lure us to pursue them in our triumph. If I’m not wrong, Xiao Fang has likely set an ambush ahead, waiting for us to arrive so he can ambush us and wipe us out.” After saying that, he laughed and said, “Xiao Fang wants to use my tactics against me—how underestimating of me!” He turned to Lingmin and said, “Help me gather motorcycles. We need at least five hundred of them.” Lingmin was confused and asked, “What do we need all these motorcycles for?” Xie Wendong replied with a smile, “Of course, to counter Xiao Fang’s trap!”

In the following days, Xiao Fang sent people to attack the North Hongmen’s stronghold almost every night. Each time, not many people were sent, but not few either—enough to keep them busy. After fighting for over half an hour, they would retreat in a hurry. As a result, both sides’ schedules were completely reversed—sleeping during the day and “working” at night. Over time, the men on both sides began to suffer. The North Hongmen endured constant attacks at their doorstep, which was unpleasant, but Xiao Fang wasn’t any better off either. Having thrown out the bait, Xie Wendong refused to bite—no matter what the cost, he was determined not to pursue them! Without his pursuit, Xiao Fang couldn’t use his greatest strengths, and his ambushes became useless, serving only as self-amusement.

After ten days, Xiao Fang’s patience was almost exhausted. Zhang Jufeng’s wound had mostly healed; as long as he didn’t engage in strenuous activity, the wound wouldn’t reopen. He could see that Xiao Fang was anxious, but actually, he was even more anxious. It had been his idea to prolong this situation, and continuing like this wasn’t a solution. In just ten days, over a hundred people had died or been injured trying to lure Xie Wendong into a trap—his responsibility. So, even though his wound hadn’t fully healed, he hurriedly asked Xiao Fang for more troops, saying, “Brother Xiao, give me another three thousand men. I won’t stop until I lure Xie Wendong out!”

Xiao Fang glanced at Zhang Jufeng and smiled helplessly. “With you injured like this, how can I let you go fight?!” He shook his head and said, “It’s not right! Your injuries…” Before Xiao Fang could finish, Zhang Jufeng became anxious. “What does it matter about injuries now? If we can lure Xie Wendong out, it’s fine even if I lose an arm or a leg. I’ll confront him again tonight!”
Seeing Zhang Jufeng’s eyes turn red, Xiao Fang had no choice but to nod in agreement.
That night, Zhang Jufeng brought three thousand men again. This time, he lacked the confidence he had ten days prior. Worried and frowning, he wondered what he would do if Xie Wendong didn’t fall for the trap. His men were even more listless. Though battles had been fought every day these past few days, the losses on their side kept mounting while the enemy suffered few casualties. Their morale was low, and they felt depressed. As soon as they reached Tangkou Street, they saw the street filled with people, a sea of darkness from which it was impossible to count them. Zhang Jufeng was shocked, thinking they had fallen into an ambush. Upon closer inspection, he saw Xie Wendong standing at the front of the crowd, smiling at him.
Xie Wendong stepped forward and said with a smile, “Brother Zhang, long time no see?!” Hearing this, Zhang Jufeng almost fainted. His eyes turned red as he didn’t respond but instead roared angrily, drawing his twin knives and charging at Xie Wendong. Before he got close, he began swinging his knives fiercely, determined to tear Xie Wendong to pieces. But Xie Wendong wasn’t easy to kill. Before he could move, someone rushed out from the side, holding a silver-white sword. Even in the darkness of night, its gleam was blinding. Needless to say, it was Ren Changfeng.

Ren Changfeng and Zhang Jufeng had been old rivals, and whenever they met, they would fight without hesitation. This time, both sides coordinated well—their subordinates did not mix into the chaos but stood by their respective leaders, watching intently the fierce battle between the two. After a dozen exchanges, Ren Changfeng seemed unaffected, growing more aggressive with each fight; facing someone of similar skill was a pleasure for him. In contrast, Zhang Jufeng, injured from earlier, suffered as his wounds split and bled after just a few moves, causing pain and impairing his movements. Realizing this situation was unsustainable, Zhang Jufeng thought that killing Xie Wendong, who stood nearby smiling, could eliminate the biggest threat to their side. Inspired, he swung his dual knives fiercely. At that moment, Ren Changfeng launched a powerful slash. Zhang Jufeng blocked it with his knife, producing a loud clang as sparks flew. He feigned weakness by tilting to one side. Ren Changfeng smirked and then kicked him in the abdomen. The kick sent Zhang flying backward, right toward Xie Wendong, who was watching. In midair, enduring the pain, Zhang twisted and, upon landing, turned around and stabbed Xie Wendong in the abdomen before he could get up.

This sudden turn of events surprised everyone, including Xie Wendong. Lingmin wanted to rush in to rescue him, but Zhang Jufeng’s strike was too fast and sudden—like a flash of lightning. Even a god might not be able to react in time, let alone Lingmin. The knife struck Xie Wendong’s chest precisely. Zhang Jufeng grinned, but his smile froze within a second as he saw Xie Wendong smiling too, his hand moving as golden light shot toward his throat.

Shrieking, Zhang Jufeng fled backward. The golden light missed his throat but pierced deep into his shoulder. With a wave of his hand, Xie Wendong retracted his golden knife. Blood gushed from Zhang Jufeng’s shoulder, dyeing half of his clothes red. He crawled back to his side, where his subordinates rushed to support him. Gasping for breath, Zhang ordered, “Retreat! Withdraw quickly!”

This time he was truly defeated; he had no intention of luring Xie Wendong, yet Xie Wendong pursued him anyway. With a wave of his hand, the crowd scattered instantly to both sides. The originally dark streets behind them became brightly lit in an instant, with lights flashing and engines roaring. The men of Nan Hongmen didn’t understand what was happening and turned back to look—several hundred motorcycles were speeding toward them like arrows leaving the bowstring.

Xie Wendong drew his sword, leaped onto the back seat of one of the motorcycles, pointed the sword forward, and shouted loudly, “Kill!”

These hundreds of motorcycles had been arranged by Xie Wendong in advance. Each had two riders—one driving and the other wielding a sword to kill. The sight of hundreds of them together was truly spectacular; the lights turned the night into day as they charged straight at the retreating men of Nan Hongmen. Two legs couldn’t outrun two wheels. Zhang Jufeng and his men hadn’t run even a hundred meters before being caught up by the convoy. Faced with the fierce onslaught of the motorcycles, those behind them tried to dodge. They could avoid the vehicles themselves but not the steel knives on them. As the motorcycles sped past, a flash of white light appeared, and several people around them were cut. Before they could react, more and more motorcycles passed by one after another. The last dozen or so men of Nan Hongmen hadn’t even had a chance to raise their hands before they were covered in wounds and turned into bloody messes.

In no time, Nan Hongmen was scattered in all directions, with no formation left. It was an unfair battle. Although Nan Hongmen had over three thousand men, they were utterly helpless. No one wanted to fight; they only wanted to escape this hellish situation as soon as possible. But those men on the motorcycles, dressed in black with their mouths covered by black cloth, resembled demons from hell. With blood-red eyes, they swung their steel knives, mercilessly slaughtering everything in their path. Zhang Jufeng turned back and nearly fainted from shock. With a deep sigh, he pushed the man holding him aside and resolved to fight to the death. At that moment, another motorcycle rushed toward him.

Zhang Jufeng dodged the attack, moved swiftly, grabbed the driver’s clothes, and shouted, “Get off!” As one of the Eight Heavenly Kings of Nan Hongmen, he was no ordinary man. Despite being seriously injured, his strength was still astonishing. He pulled the motorcycle driver off the bike, causing the out-of-control motorcycle and its rider to fall more than ten meters away. He pressed the man to the ground and, before he could get up, stabbed him in the abdomen with his sword. Another motorcycle rushed at him, so he rolled aside quickly, thrust his sword forward, and jammed it into the front wheel of the motorcycle. With a sharp crack, both the man and the motorcycle tumbled away.

Zhang Jufeng destroyed two motorcycles with a single gesture, but before he could catch his breath, several more arrived. The riders wore similar clothes to those on the first two motorcycles, except they had red armbands. Instead of charging straight at him, they circled around him. The motorcycles spun rapidly, creating a dazzling blur, and soon Zhang Jufeng could no longer count them—he only saw motorcycles and lights everywhere.

At that moment, one of the riders whistled, and the others understood his signal. Several sharp knives were thrust out at once. Before Zhang Jufeng could react, seven or eight wounds appeared on his body. Though not deep, they injured his flesh, enough to cause him great pain. Covered in blood, he charged wildly, but was kicked back to the center as soon as he got close. Another whistle sounded, and a burst of white light appeared, adding seven or eight more wounds to his body. After several rounds like this, he was completely covered in blood, with countless wounds, yet he still stood there, swaying as he tried to prevent himself from falling in front of his enemies.