Chapter 217

The bartender stepped forward quickly and politely said, “Gentlemen, please come in…” When he saw the distinguished appearance of the man at the head, his tongue almost stuck to the roof—how could someone look like that?! The donkey-faced man didn’t even glance at him; he scanned the room before his gaze stopped on the table where the young man was offering drinks. His eyes lit up with joy, and he pushed the bartender aside to walk over. He approached the three men and couldn’t help but look around again. Everyone in the bar was drinking, savoring the taste. After all, free drinks were always sweet and delicious. The donkey-faced man seemed to sigh in relief as he pulled up a chair and sat between the three of them. Smiling, he said, “I heard someone was treating everyone to drinks just now. It’s a shame I missed it.” The young man glanced at him and said helplessly, “You’re not too late.” He snapped his fingers and called out, “Bring a drink for this friend too!” The donkey-faced man shook his head and said from behind him, “It’s a pity I didn’t come alone. I have over a dozen brothers with me!” The young man smiled and said, “Everyone gets a share—one drink per person!” Hearing this, the donkey-faced man smiled satisfactorily and turned to the young man beside him, saying, “Xie Wendong?!” The young man replied with a smile, “It’s me!” The donkey-faced man’s gaze gradually turned cold. Pointing at his side, he said, “That knife wound will stay etched in my memory forever; I’ll never forget it.” The young man replied helplessly, “Carrying such pain is agony. There’s the best way to forget it.” “What’s that?” “Just die.” “Haha!” The donkey-faced man laughed loudly. After a while, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and said, “Fine. Xie Wendong is indeed Xie Wendong. I really admire your courage. But today, I’m here to repay you for that knife wound.” The young man was stunned and asked, “How?” The donkey-faced man shrugged, and a knife appeared in his hand. It was more like a strip of iron than a knife—three fingers wide and over half an arm long, completely black and dull. The handle was simply wrapped in white cloth. Without a sharp edge, it was just a large piece of iron. Like the others, it was rough and ugly, but undeniably sharp. He placed the knife on the table, looked down at it, and murmured, “I’ll use this knife to repay you!”

The young man sneered, “Can this knife even cut people?” The donkey-faced man’s expression changed, and he said coldly, “You can give it a try!” With that, he suddenly swung his knife—without any warning, as fast as lightning—aiming straight at the young man’s throat. Even the patrons in the bar could feel the icy chill. The young man seemed prepared; he leaned back, and the blade skimmed past his jaw, barely scratching his skin. He quickly stood up and slowly drew a dark, trembling Tang sword from a girl nearby, saying helplessly, “I told you, this knife can’t cut people!” Then he slowly thrust another blade at him. The donkey-faced man gritted his teeth, stayed silent, his eyes bloodshot, and swung his knife fiercely.

The young man chuckled lightly, quickly parrying the attack without engaging head-on. But then, like a flash of lightning, he reached out and stabbed at the man’s abdomen. The man roared, blocking the attack with his own knife, which collided with the young man’s blade. There was a sharp clang, and the young man stepped back, his arm numb, the Tang sword almost slipping from his hand. He couldn’t help but marvel at the man’s strength. He retracted his sword and said, “Qian Xixi—true to your reputation!”

That donkey-faced man was indeed Qian Xixi. Seeing Xie Wendong retreating due to his inferiority, he wouldn’t let it go. He stepped forward and swung his knife again. At that moment, a blade came in from the side, accompanied by a whooshing sound, hitting Qian Xixi’s strike head-on. With a clang, sparks flew, and Qian Xixi staggered back half a step. Turning, he saw it was the young man from earlier, holding a knife and looking at him with disdain. He shouted, “Ren Changfeng, if you have any sense, get out of the way! I’m not looking for you!”

Who else could this young man be but Ren Changfeng?! He smiled and said, “Too bad, but I’m looking for you!” With that, he lunged forward with repeated slashes. Qian Xixi had no choice but to raise his knife to defend. The dozen or so men behind him also drew their knives, ready to surround Xie Wendong. But at that moment, most of the patrons who had been drinking pulled out their knives as well, shouting as they joined the fight. There was no need for words between the two sides; as soon as they got close, chaos ensued.

The barkeepers, seeing this scene, were so scared their legs turned to jelly—they almost wet themselves. They huddled together, exchanged glances, and reached for their phones to call the police. But before they could dial, the girl sitting with Xie Wendong and Ren Changfeng stepped forward, her Tang sword shining brightly in her hand. She said nothing, just tapped the barkeeper’s phone with the tip of her sword and pointed at the ground. The barkeeper, having seen much in life, sighed inwardly, threw away his phone, and without being told, went to sit in a corner.

The scene was now in complete chaos, with dozens of people fighting desperately. Tables and bottles lay scattered everywhere. Although Qian Xixi had a fierce temper, he wasn’t stupid. After learning that the Beihongmen was lax in its defenses, most of its members were on leave, and Xie Wendong frequented bars, he began to suspect there might be a trick. Yet Xie Wendong’s allure was too great, and in the end, Qian Xixi couldn’t resist. Secretly, he took over 200 of his most trusted men, bypassing Xiao Fang and Zhan Long, and entered the city in batches. Once they reached the bar district, he sent people to scout the area first. After confirming there were no ambushes, he relaxed slightly and ordered most of his men to stay outside, taking only a dozen of his best men into the “Half Cup of Affection” bar to settle accounts with Xie Wendong. But this reckoning wouldn’t be easy.

Qian Xixi was tightly held by Ren Changfeng, while his dozen men were trapped by disguised Beihongmen disciples inside the bar. Xie Wendong sat down casually, pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and his bodyguard quickly bent down to light it for him. Xie Wendong exhaled a plume of smoke and glanced around. His side still held the upper hand, with only Ren Changfeng fighting a tough battle. Given Qian Xixi’s appearance and temper, his strength was remarkable—he had managed to make it among the Eight Heavenly Kings. Even with an injury under his ribs, Ren Changfeng was barely holding his own against him. Xie Wendong nodded inwardly—indeed, Qian Xixi was no ordinary person. He narrowed his eyes and smiled, saying, “Qian Xixi, do you know why you can’t win over Xiang Wentian?” Qian Xixi glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, furious that Xie Wendong could sit there smiling and smoking so carefree, while he was locked in a fierce battle and too angry to respond. Xie Wendong continued, “It’s true you’re ugly, but the main reason is you’re too stupid. One can lack good looks, but not intelligence.”

Qian Xixi almost spat blood and roared, “Xie Wendong!” He then swung his sword fiercely, driven by hatred and with immense force. Ren Changfeng sensed the danger and shouted, “Great!” He took a deep breath and blocked the attack. With a loud clang, Ren Changfeng’s sword sank, almost slipping from his hand. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Take my sword too!”

Ignoring the deadly struggle before him, Xie Wendong continued, “Qian Xixi, it’s one thing for you to stay out of the Nanhongmen and avoid shame. Outsiders may not see it, but you really have no sense of what’s possible. With war between the north and south, you still dare to charge into battle. But Xiang Wentian is smart—just your appearance alone is a hundred times more deadly than Hongye’s.”

“Ah!” Qian Xixi’s eyes turned blood-red upon hearing this, and she screamed, “I’m so angry!” She was so flustered by Xie Wendong’s few words that her sword moves became chaotic, lacking the precision they had at the beginning. As she lost control, Ren Changfeng remained calm and seized the opportunity to intensify his attacks. Soon, Qian Xixi’s arm, abdomen, and thighs were all wounded by swords.

Xie Wendong watched with a smile, already sentencing Qian Xixi to death in his mind. Just then, a disciple of the North Hongmen suddenly lifted his robe, revealing a pistol in his hand. Narrowing his eyes, he aimed the gun at Xie Wendong’s head outside the scene. The change was so sudden that Xie Wendong didn’t even see the dark muzzle pointed at him. However, the other disciples of the North Hongmen around him saw it, but it was too late to stop him; they all opened their mouths in shock. The man narrowed his eyes further and pulled the trigger.

But no gunshot was heard. As soon as his finger moved, a white light shot out, sending him and his gun flying. His face turned pale instantly, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t cry out. Clutching the wound on his severed wrist, he turned to see a woman in black standing beside him, her sword slightly lowered, with drops of blood falling to the ground. This woman was Lingmin. She said coldly, “You’re not one of our Hongmen disciples.”

The man sneered and said, “You’re not my Hongmen disciples either.” He bent down, picked up a knife, and declared proudly, “In the scorching heat of June, a cold wind blows; a red leaf flies southward.”

Lingmin sneered, “What a beautiful red leaf—too bad it’s withered!” She charged forward, delivering three rapid slashes at the man’s throat and chest. He was indeed Red Leaf, but his skills were far inferior to Lingmin’s. Within five exchanges, he was knocked to the ground by Lingmin’s blade, his leg tendons severed.

By then, Xie Wendong had also realized what was going on. Looking at the gun on the ground and then at the man convulsing on the floor, he understood everything. He stepped forward, knelt down, touched the man’s clothes, and asked, “How did you get in here?” The man endured the intense pain and said harshly, “It’s a shame I couldn’t kill you!” Xie Wendong scratched his head and repeated, “I’m asking how you got in.” Although lying on the ground, the man still had strength. With his remaining hand, he gripped the knife handle and swung back at Xie Wendong. Xie Wendong leaned back slightly, and the man’s knife pierced his heart. His eyes rolled back, and he died. Xie Wendong’s expression darkened, and he was speechless for a long time. Lingmin whispered beside him, “Brother Dong, he’s Red Leaf.”

Xie Wendong shook his head and sighed. He had no mood to ‘play’ with Qian Xixi any longer. He pulled out his pistol, ready to end him with a single shot. This sudden turn of events also woke Qian Xixi up. His enraged mind gradually calmed down as he scanned the scene. There were only a few of his subordinates left—the situation was critical. They couldn’t fight on. If they delayed any longer, not only would his subordinates not be able to escape, but he himself might also meet his end here. Qian Xixi swung his knives fiercely to push back Ren Changfeng, then seized the opportunity to dash toward the exit.

By the time Xie Wendong raised his gun, Qian Xixi was already running outside. How could he let him get away? He fired a shot at Qian Xixi’s long head.

“Bang!” The gunshot rang out, and the bullet flew past Qian Xixi’s scalp, tearing off a few strands of hair. Terrified, he ducked his head and ran even faster. Xie Wendong missed his shot and fired three more times, but Qian Xixi was cunning. Seeing the other man pull out a gun, he darted around, dodging left and right. Coupled with Xie Wendong’s mediocre marksmanship, all four shots missed Qian Xixi. Ren Changfeng gasped for breath beside him and said, “Brother Dong, your marksmanship is really… not impressive.” The last four words were spoken in a low voice, but Xie Wendong still heard them. His face turned red as he awkwardly said, “It used to be bad, but I haven’t practiced for a long time.” Seeing that Qian Xixi had already run out of the bar, he put away his pistol and pointed at the body of the assassin on the ground. “He’s not from the Red Leaves!” Lingmin was stunned and asked, “How do you know?” Xie Wendong smiled and said, “If you don’t believe me, search him. You definitely won’t find a ‘Leaf’ mark.”

Ren Changfeng glanced at Lingmin, then suspiciously looked at Xie Wendong. He pulled up his pants and actually squatted down to search carefully. After a while, he stood up, shook his head, and said with a bitter smile, “There really is no Red Leaves mark on him!” Lingmin frowned and asked, “Then who is he?” Xie Wendong narrowed his eyes and said coldly, “Pull up his sleeve!”

Ren Changfeng snapped into action and quickly tore off the man’s sleeve. On his arm was a bright ‘Soul’ character, about the size of a matchbox. Though prepared, both Ren Changfeng and Lingmin shuddered in shock and said in unison, “The Soul Group?” Xie Wendong said, “Suiciding after being captured isn’t the style of the Red Leaves. Besides, even those from the same group wouldn’t die just from being captured.” He kicked the man’s head and said, “His method reminds me of the Soul Group. Only the Soul Group would raise such fearless people.”

Lingmin sighed, “The Soul Group is indeed formidable. They managed to infiltrate among our disciples without us even noticing.” Xie Wendong said with a bitter smile, “Maybe there will be even more formidable ones in the future!”

Qian Xixi, in a panic like a dog with its home lost, pulled open the gate and rushed out. Once outside, he took a deep breath, but halfway through, he held it back. The street was littered with people lying everywhere, along with knives and sticks scattered on the ground. There was a group of about thirty people standing in the street. The leader was not tall but exceptionally strong, with muscles bulging under his clothes, straining them tightly. All of them were dressed in black, with black cloth covering their mouths and red symbols embroidered on their sleeves, reading “kill”. Qian Xixi’s heart trembled. His remaining two hundred men were either lying on the ground groaning or nowhere to be seen. How could he not be shaken? He asked in a deep voice, “Who are you? And who are these people?”