Chapter 35

The crew-cut man froze—he hadn’t expected this kid to snatch the bag from him at this moment, and even talk with that cocky tone.

Did he not understand the situation, or was he always this bold?

“Hand me the bag.” He sneered, reaching out.

Cao Yang ignored him completely. Instead, he grabbed Fatty Qi’s bag too, taking both the money and the goods.

Seeing him walk away without giving any face, the crew-cut man signaled. The men in black quickly surrounded Cao Yang.

No words—just fists. The fight broke out instantly.

They were unarmed, but Cao Yang wasn’t afraid. One man against ten.

Screams erupted—someone was kicked flying into a wall.

That was just the beginning. One after another was smashed aside by his fists and flying kicks. Bodies went tumbling everywhere.

Lei Yu was stunned. Lei Dian had told her Cao Yang was strong, but she hadn’t expected this strong.

The crew-cut man was also dumbfounded. When he saw the punks lying downstairs earlier, he’d figured this kid could fight—but not like this.

The men he brought were all seasoned fighters, far tougher than common street punks. But to Cao Yang, they were no different.

Bang! A gunshot rang out.

A bullet grazed Cao Yang’s scalp, singeing his hair.

Cold sweat broke out all over him. His first time facing a gun—his first time truly sensing danger.

He froze, glancing back at the crew-cut man. The men he’d just floored were now staggering back up.

“You fight well, huh? So what? Out here, it’s about power and backing. All I need is one squeeze of this trigger, and your head bursts open.”

“Is that so?” Cao Yang’s foot brushed a loose stone. As he spoke, he kicked it sharply.

The stone shot like a dart, striking the man’s wrist dead-on.

Caught off guard, he felt a sharp pain—his hand spasmed, and the gun flew free.

Before it hit the ground, Cao Yang flashed forward, slammed his shoulder into him, and sent him flying.

Snatching the pistol mid-air, Cao Yang aimed and fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The crew-cut man shrieked, diving behind a support pillar, rolling and crawling, too terrified to show his head.

Cao Yang had never fired a real gun before, but his talent was monstrous—speed, strength, reflexes, learning ability. (School knowledge not included.)

He wasn’t missing on accident—he simply wasn’t trying to hit him.

“Why hide? Weren’t you cocky just now? Yihe Society? Just a bunch of nobodies.”

He tossed the chip bag to Lei Yu, pocketed Fatty Qi’s money, nodded at her, and the two slipped out of the building. Nobody dared block their way.

“Hurry.” Cao Yang urged. He feared there might be more guns, and if they shot from behind, he’d be done for.

Luckily, his worry was needless. But the place was so remote, it took them over ten minutes to even flag down a cab.

“You know anything about the Yihe Society?” In the taxi, Cao Yang asked Lei Yu. Now that he’d crossed them, he needed to learn.

Lei Yu nodded, then shook her head. “Only heard of them—not much detail.”

“I know about them,” the taxi driver cut in, chatty. “They’re one of the most powerful groups out of Hong Kong. If you’ve crossed them, best buy a ticket and head back to your hometown quick.”

“Tell me more, driver.” Cao Yang lit him a cigarette, ignoring Lei Yu’s frown. The men smoked as they talked.

“The Yihe Society’s story is long. Its roots trace back over a hundred years, but their current rise started about twenty years ago.

After China’s reform and opening, lots of Hong Kong and Taiwan businessmen invested here. Along with them, some triads set up branches. Yihe grew the fastest.

Now they’ve got thirteen halls across the mainland. Each hall boss rules his own territory. Stronger than Wo Sheng or 14K.”

“Among the thirteen, the one I admire most is Tang ShaoSister, the boss of the Dongguan hall. Not only handsome and young, but he’s got principles and restraint. Lots of youngsters worship him, proud to serve under him.”

“Tch.” Cao Yang sneered. Lei Dian and his people had helped move goods for him, and what happened? Two got caught, and on top of that, they were forced to pay compensation. What kind of leader was that?

“You heard of Guangdong’s Hongmen?” the driver asked.

Cao Yang nodded.

“Well, Yihe has ties to them. A hundred years ago, Hongmen had a Hong Kong branch called the Triads. Yihe grew out of that.

Strictly speaking, Yihe is Hongmen in Hong Kong, now returned to the mainland.

But Hongmen has declined. Aside from some overseas Chinese, you don’t see them here anymore. Yihe, on the other hand, thrives—but they’ve forgotten Hongmen’s code of honor and patriotic spirit. Now, they’re nothing but mafia.”

The driver kept talking all the way, and the more he spoke, the heavier Cao Yang’s heart grew. He’d stirred up a major problem.

The cab dropped them off under Lei Yu’s apartment.

Cao Yang wanted her to hide at his place, but Lei Yu disliked Li Yan, and after hearing the driver’s tales, she was scared enough to plan on returning home.

“Keep the goods with you.” She shoved the chip bag to him. Too hot to handle—she wanted no part of it.

Cao Yang frowned. It was a cursed burden—too valuable to throw away, but dangerous to keep. If it got lost and the society came after him, he’d have to recover it anyway. Regret filled him—if only he’d left it earlier, maybe they wouldn’t have chased further.

Too late now. What, return it?

Trouble!

“You got money?” he called as Lei Yu turned to leave.

“…A little.”

Her hesitant tone told him she had almost none.

He pulled two thick stacks from the bag and handed them over. “Take it for travel expenses.”

“I…” Lei Yu tried to refuse, but the truth was she had no money, and she was tempted. Who doesn’t like money?

Technically, they’d agreed to split the profits, but the goods weren’t even sold—only cash snatched. She had no claim. Since Cao Yang offered, she lowered her head and whispered thanks.

“Travel safe. Call me when you get home.”

“Mm.” She nodded softly.

Cao Yang turned to leave.

“Cao Yang…” she called after him.

“What?”

“Will we see each other again?”

He grinned. “Didn’t you say you don’t like me?”

“I…” She stammered, then stomped her foot and left.

Back at the shop, Li Yan rushed over.

“Well? Did you sell it? Did you get the money?”

She fired three questions in a row, snatching the bag from him. When she saw only chips inside, disappointment washed over her.

“Didn’t sell it?”

Cao Yang tossed her another bag, wryly smiling. “Didn’t sell—but I got the money.”

The money-mad Li Yan opened it, and a golden glow nearly blinded her.