Chapter 279

Xie Wendong smiled bitterly and said, “If even such an important matter as the north-south conflict can’t draw out anyone from the Moon-Gazing Pavilion, how could they possibly come out to deal with an unknown Canglang?”
Ren Changfeng replied helplessly, “That’s exactly the problem. If the Moon-Gazing Pavilion could side with us, not to mention Canglang, even Xiang Wentian would surrender unconditionally.”
“Tch!” Li Shuang rolled his eyes and sneered, “All this talk is nonsense. If they could be brought in, Old Master Jin and Xiang Wentian would have done it long ago—why wait until now?” Ren Changfeng shrugged and said, “I’m just saying that. After fighting against Canglang once, I can’t help but think of the Moon-Gazing Pavilion. To subdue him by force, only those elders of the Hongmen can do it.” Xie Wendong tapped his forehead and asked, “Where is the Moon-Gazing Pavilion?” “Well…” Ren Changfeng scratched his head, his face turning slightly red. “I don’t know. Even in the entire Northern Hongmen, probably only Old Master knows.” “You don’t know? Then there’s no way to contact them. It’s like saying nothing at all.” Li Shuang waved his hand in frustration. Drunk, he mumbled and prepared to find a place to sleep. He had nothing to worry about—after all, with Brother Dong around, he never needed to worry about anything; he just had to follow orders.
Sanyan pondered for a moment and said, “Distant water can’t quench immediate thirst. Even if we knew where the Moon-Gazing Pavilion is, it won’t be easy to get someone to come out. To deal with Canglang, we can only rely on ourselves.”
Xie Wendong nodded and smiled proudly. “The Soul Squad, organizations as large as the Southern Hongmen—none of them have ever scared me, let alone a single person.” He narrowed his eyes, playing with the golden knife in his hand, and said coldly, “If you provoke me, even a tiger must lie down for me, and even a dragon must curl up.” Sanyan’s blood boiled. He stood up, adjusted his clothes, and said, “I’ll go find Lao Sen.” With that, he strode out of the room. Gao Qiang, who had remained silent until then, suddenly asked, “Brother Dong, if we really find Canglang, what should we do?”

“Dressed in cold dishes!” Xie Wendong chuckled and yawned. “Two fists can’t match four hands. No matter how skilled he is, he can’t handle more people. No matter how fast he is, he’s not faster than a gun. We have people and we have guns—what’s there to fear?!” DL wasn’t very large, nowhere near as big as City H, not even half its size. Moreover, Sanyan had already laid a solid foundation, with many informants under him. With Jiang Sen’s covert team’s assistance, it wasn’t difficult to track down a person. Especially someone like Canglang—someone who could scare people for days just with a glance and was hard to forget. Before the next day even arrived, around 11 p.m. that same night, Xie Wendong received a call from Sanyan. A brother in the slums of District G reported having seen someone who looked similar to Canglang, but the guy hadn’t met Canglang himself and wasn’t sure it was him. Xie Wendong muttered an oath sleepily, glanced at his watch—almost dawn already. Shaking his drowsy head, he stood up and said, “It’s best that person is Canglang. Otherwise, I’ll have business with you.” Sanyan smiled bitterly. He knew Xie Wendong suffered from low blood pressure and had a bad temper, especially when he wasn’t fully awake. But since this was important, he feared wasting time. If Canglang noticed and ran away, it would be hard to find him again.
District G was the northernmost district in DL. It used to be just a suburb or countryside, but as DL expanded, it was incorporated into the city. Already far from the city center and with poor infrastructure, its level of prosperity lagged far behind that of the city center. Calling it a slum might be an exaggeration, but some areas in District G were indeed very underdeveloped. The place the guy under Sanyan mentioned was almost indistinguishable from the countryside—this was Xie Wendong’s first impression upon arriving. There were rows of dilapidated brick and tile houses with peeling walls, muddy and filthy roads. In slightly farther areas, there were vegetable fields that had long since withered, leaving only bare stumps, with large pits two meters square dug at the edges filled with human and animal waste, emitting a foul smell. In the car, Li Shuang, sitting next to Xie Wendong, cursed, “Damn, what kind of hellhole is this? It’s unbearable!”

Xie Wendong smiled without saying a word. The car jolted forward for a while longer, when the door of a house nearby opened and someone poked their head out, waving urgently. Xie Wendong focused his gaze and saw it was Jiang Sen. He ordered the driver to stop, and he, Li Shuang, Gao Qiang, and the others got out of the car. From the outside, the house didn’t seem special, but once inside, they found at least forty people in the yard—some standing here and there, some fiddling with knives, others quietly cleaning their guns. Not a word was spoken; aside from breathing sounds, nothing else could be heard. Most of these people were elite members of Sanyan’s underhanded forces, with some also being members of the Secret Group. The members of the Secret Group were unpredictable, highly mobile, and relatively free, but they mostly operated around two centers: Xie Wendong and Jiang Sen. No matter where these two went, members of the Secret Group would soon follow.

Jiang Sen led Xie Wendong and the others through the yard into a single-story house. Sanyan and Chen Baicheng were there, along with a few unfamiliar faces on either side. Sanyan nodded first as a greeting, then said, “I just asked the guy who reported the news. The person he described must be Canglang.” Xie Wendong asked, “Where is this brother?” Sanyan gestured to his side, and a young man stepped forward from slightly behind him. He seemed to be in his early twenties, looking youthful with a brownish-red face, thick and messy hair, wearing a light gray suit with white sneakers underneath—a rather ordinary-looking guy who clearly came from a rural family. When he saw Xie Wendong, he appeared somewhat uneasy and stammered, “Brother… Brother Dong, hello!” Xie Wendong nodded with a smile and said gently, “Describe to me again what that person looks like.”

“Yes!” The young man nodded firmly and said, “He’s around forty years old, dressed in black, but his face is terrifyingly pale—paler than paper. Especially his eyes; looking at them makes one feel as if Death is staring at them, giving one an uneasy feeling…” Hearing this, Xie Wendong waved his hand. He was 90% sure the person described by the young man was Cang Lang. He asked with a smile, “How did you meet this man? Is he still here?” “Yes, he still lives here!” the young man replied eagerly. “My family is from this village. A few days ago, a friend I’ve known since childhood who also lives here told me that his family rented out an old, unused house to a stranger. Although the man had an unattractive appearance, he was very generous, paying a thousand at once. Brother Dong, you know, it’s quite unusual for such a low-value place to be rented at such a high price. Out of curiosity, I went to take a look. That man was indeed terrifying. When he glanced at me, I felt as if I were being stared at by a venomous snake…” Xie Wendong interrupted him and asked, “Then why tell me this? Aren’t you afraid?”
“I’m not afraid!” the young man said bravely. “I want to make a name for myself!” “Haha!” Xie Wendong laughed and said, “Making a name for yourself isn’t that simple. Courage alone isn’t enough.” He pulled out an axe from Jiang Sen’s body and threw it to the young man, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly as he said, “Use this to cut off his head.”
The young man gripped the handle tightly, staring blankly at the shiny blade. Xie Wendong turned around and asked, “Any good ideas?” San Yan said, “Brother Dong, at first I thought of acting now that it’s dark, but then I realized it wouldn’t work. Darkness isn’t in our favor, and it could also help Cang Lang escape. We’re lucky to have found him this time. If we fail, he’ll be even more cautious, and it will be harder to find him again.” “Mm!” Xie Wendong nodded and asked, “What does Brother Zhang think?”
San Yan smiled and said, “I heard that he goes to the nearby market every evening these past few days to buy food.” Xie Wendong’s eyes lit up as he nodded and smiled knowingly. “Then fine. I don’t mind waiting an extra day.” Markets—this term is now rarely heard in cities, replaced by supermarkets and shopping malls. But this was rural area within the city, where market traditions had remained intact. The market was located in a large open space of several hundred square meters, surrounded by fences over half a meter high. Here, everything was the cheapest—ranging from rare delicacies to everyday necessities like firewood, rice, oil, and salt. There was everything one could need.

Perhaps it was because it was Saturday, but there were especially many people—crowded and noisy. By evening, things reached their peak, with constant haggling and shouting. Even many locals living nearby joined in. In the least noticeable corner of the market, Xie Wendong and Sanyan crouched in front of a small stall. Their clothes no longer had their usual luster; they wore tattered, dirty peasant clothes. Sanyan took a deep drag on his cigarette, looked up at the sky, and sighed, “We’ve put in so much effort, but I don’t know if Canglang will come.” Xie Wendong fiddled with the vegetables on the stall while smiling and saying, “Canglang is human. Humans get hungry, and when they’re hungry, they need to eat.” Sanyan stood up, stretched, and rubbed his numb legs, then said with a bitter smile, “If people found out that the leader of the Wendong Gang and the head of the Longtang are selling vegetables here, they’d laugh their heads off…”

“How much is a pound of these vegetables?” Before Sanyan could finish speaking, a middle-aged, overweight woman approached them and pointed at the vegetables on the stall. “One yuan!” Sanyan replied impatiently. “One yuan? That’s too expensive. Look, these vegetables are shriveled and not even good in color…” “Damn it, are you going to buy them or not? If not, get the hell out!” Sanyan had been at the market all afternoon, and his patience had long worn thin. The middle-aged woman frowned and was about to argue with Sanyan when Xie Wendong secretly shook his head, stood up, and said with a smile, “Madam, I’m truly sorry. My brother doesn’t know how to speak. Please forgive him. You can pick any vegetables you like; I’ll give you a good price.”

Xie Wendong’s cheerful demeanor made it impossible to get angry; his smile was warm enough to melt ice. The middle-aged woman, who had originally been angry, calmed down somewhat after hearing him speak. She pointed at Sanyan’s nose and started scolding him harshly, “What kind of attitude is that? So arrogant! Don’t even look in the mirror! Just a cheap vegetable seller thinking he’s something special. Ugh…!” In the end, persuaded by Xie Wendong, the woman grabbed some vegetables and left.

Sanyan’s face turned red and white alternately. If it weren’t for dealing with Canglang, he might have already picked up a knife. At that moment, Xie Wendong’s phone rang. He answered it—it was Jiang Sen. Without any preamble, he simply said, “Canglang is here!” Xie Wendong straightened his collar, crouched down, and pulled Sanyan along with him, saying seriously, “He’s here!”

The Gray Wolf indeed arrived. He didn’t like places with many people, especially noisy environments that prevented him from concentrating, yet at the same time, crowds also gave him a sense of security. Standing at the entrance of the market, he didn’t enter right away but first glanced inside. Seeing so many people, his brows furrowed slightly as he considered whether to go in. The Gray Wolf was quick in action, but his demeanor seemed slow—he stood there for five full minutes. Just as Jiang Sen and the others hiding in the shadows thought he might leave, he slowly stepped into the market. The Gray Wolf was very picky; everything he ate had to be fresh, which was the main reason he preferred to cook by himself rather than go to restaurants. He would pick up each item to smell it carefully, often sniffing repeatedly before putting it back, annoying the vendors. He paid no attention and walked on to another shop without looking back. Half an hour passed, and he had only bought half a pound of mutton. Then a voice caught his attention. “Come on, top-quality rice and flour from Province H!” DL didn’t produce rice or flour itself; most farmers grew fruit and vegetables, while many others fished. The staple foods people relied on had to be imported from other places, with those from Province H, a major grain-producing region, being the most famous. The Gray Wolf walked over upon hearing the call. Instead of looking at the goods, he first examined the vendor. Seeing that it was a kind-looking young man who seemed familiar, he recalled that this person was likely a neighbor of the family that rented him a house. Feeling relieved, he bent down, grabbed a handful of rice, and brought it to his nose. The young man smiled and said, “Sir, this rice was just shipped in from Province H. It tastes great when cooked.” After sniffing it for a while, the Gray Wolf shook his head, threw the rice back into the bag, and said, “Old rice.” The young man’s face turned red as he muttered, “If you’re not buying it, don’t call it old rice! It’s affecting my business!” He pointed to another large bag of white rice nearby and said, “That’s fragrant rice—tasty and sweet.”

Cang Lang rolled his dead fish eyes, stared at him for two seconds, then walked over, grabbed a small handful, examined it first, and then crushed it between his palms—immediately turning the fragrant rice grains into rice flour. Sniffing it, he nodded and said, “I’ll take one jin of this.” Hearing this, the young man sighed in frustration, “After looking at it for so long, you still only want one jin… By the way, big brother, there’s also refined flour here—buy some!” Cang Lang followed his gaze and saw that the flour indeed looked good, white and fine. Just as he was about to grab some, the young man quickly stopped him, saying, “Sir, you can’t just grab this. It’s not like rice; if it gets dirty, you can wash it. But how am I supposed to sell this refined flour if you take all of it?!”