Chapter 28

Mingzhu Nightclub.

“Good news! Last time the Guangxi gang cheated us out of money—don’t you want to win it back?”

“You’ve got a way?”

“Of course I do! If you want to get it back, tonight we’ll go together.”

---

Tiexiong drove with Cao Yang to the front of the Nightingale Club. Jim asked him to come up and talk, but he didn’t dare.

He and Jim were always competing, their relationship was hardly good. Just last time he had taken men to surround Jim’s club, and earlier today their crews had already clashed again. He only brought five or six men tonight—if he went up, he was afraid Jim might kill him.

But with a common enemy, they could still cooperate—the Guangxi gang, and especially Old Guangxi, was their shared enemy.

Since Tiexiong wouldn’t go up, Jim could only come down.

Tiexiong greeted Cao Yang, then stood with Jim in the parking lot to talk. They were too far away for Cao Yang to hear, but it was clearly about him—Tiexiong kept pointing his way, and Jim also glanced at him.

“This kid’s strength you know already—if he fights that Old Guangxi, odds are he’ll win.”

Jim shook his head: “That Old Guangxi is tough. Word is his ancestor was a Southern Shaolin Buddhist boxing master, and he inherited the real skills—one man can take on a dozen. But this kid only beat four last time.”

“I think he held back last time. When my men rushed him, he stared straight at me and I felt real fear. After so many years in this business, not many give me that feeling. He’s hiding his true ability.”

Jim thought in silence.

“What if he loses? I don’t want to hand more money to Old Guangxi!”

“What’s there to be afraid of? If he loses, I’ll skin him alive! But if he wins, we make money—and we can use him long-term as our cash cow.”

Jim sneered: “Didn’t you just say he’s strong? And you’d still dare to skin him?”

“Tch! No matter how strong, can he beat a gun? If he dares lose, I’ll blow his brains out!”

“…Fine. I’ll trust you this once.”

Jim took his men, got into two sedans, and drove off. Tiexiong returned to his car and told his boys to follow.

“Did you tell him?” asked Cao Yang—still most concerned about his slot machines.

Tiexiong grinned: “Relax. As long as you win tonight, he definitely won’t bother you again!”

---

The four cars drove half an hour to an abandoned factory on the outskirts.

The factory was big but shut down long ago. Strangely, there were still plenty of luxury cars parked inside, and a good number of security guards at the gate.

The guards checked Jim and Tiexiong’s IDs, then let them through—it was clear they came here often.

Both groups got out and went straight to the second floor.

The entire second and third floors were gutted into one massive space, easily over five thousand square meters.

They pushed open the doors—deafening noise roared out. Around the hall were stands packed with men and women smoking, drinking, and eating.

At the center stood an octagonal cage. Inside, two men, bare-chested in only shorts, were fighting brutally.

“You brought me to fight in underground boxing?” Cao Yang muttered—he’d seen this scene on TV.

“What, scared?” Tiexiong smirked.

Cao Yang shook his head. He wasn’t scared—he just didn’t like it. His mother had warned him before he left home: Make your money with brains or labor, not violence.

He knew he wasn’t very smart, but she said: Use your brain more, it’ll grow. So he was trying, and violence was something he wanted to avoid.

“Hahaha… Brother Jim, Brother Tiexiong!”

A short, dark-skinned man speaking Guangxi-accented Mandarin walked over laughing. He sat down beside Jim and Tiexiong with exaggerated warmth.

“Been so long since you came—my earnings have plummeted!”

His face was all smiles, but his words were sharp mockery, making both Jim and Tiexiong’s faces darken.

“Fuck you, Xida! I’m here to bleed you dry this time—get ready to cough up blood!”

The Guangxi man, Xida, roared with laughter: “Tiexiong, you say that every time—and every time, you end up bleeding yourself!”

Tiexiong’s face twisted with rage. Jim just smoked in silence.

A tall waitress in a miniskirt came with fruit and drinks, placing them politely on the table.

“Gentlemen, that’s one thousand nine hundred eighty yuan,” she said, handing them the bill.

In this place, you settled as soon as the tray hit the table.

Cao Yang was stunned—two dozen beers and a fruit plate for nearly two thousand yuan, in an era when average monthly wages were only a few hundred. Outrageous.

“Fuck off! You new here?” Xida smacked the waitress on the ass, laughing. “These two are VIPs—don’t charge them. Tell the manager to put it on my tab.”

The girl rubbed her behind, blushed, and ran off.

“She’s new—don’t mind her,” Xida said smugly.

Tiexiong ignored him. Jim ignored him. And Cao Yang ignored him too.

All eyes were on the cage. The fight had ended—a tall man lay unconscious, beaten by a fighter barely 1.6 meters tall.

“Liang Feng! Liang Feng!” Cheers shook the hall, mixed with curses.

Tiexiong pointed at the short man in the cage: “That’s Liang Feng—the Guangxi gang’s top fighter. Don’t be fooled by his size—his skills are lethal. Think you can beat him?”

“Don’t know,” Cao Yang shook his head.

“I already signed you up. He’s your opponent tonight. You absolutely cannot lose!”

“Oh.” Cao Yang only nodded faintly.

Tiexiong burned with irritation at his indifference, but held it in—he still needed him.

Jim turned to Cao Yang: “Little brother, be straight with us—do you have confidence? If not, say so now.”

“If I say no? Then we leave? And you’ll leave my slot machines alone?”

Tiexiong sneered: “If you say no, Brother Jim will raid your house tonight!”

Cao Yang’s eyes turned cold, locking on Jim.

Jim waved with a smile: “Don’t listen to his nonsense. If you lose, you lose—don’t carry the burden.”

Hearing that, Cao Yang looked away. But in his heart, he knew these men only saw him as a tool. If he lost and cost them money, they would never let him go.

He glanced at Liang Feng in the cage, sighed. Fine—I’ll help them this once. But not again.

A staff member came to their table, exchanged nods with Jim and Tiexiong, then motioned for Cao Yang to follow him.

He changed into only shorts—no gloves, nothing else.

The staff explained the rules: there were none. Any dirty move was allowed. The fight ended only when someone surrendered, was incapacitated, or died.

Cao Yang nodded. He had no professional training—fewer rules suited him better.

“Go on, kid. When the light flashes—that’s the signal to start.”