Chapter Sixty-One: Though Escaped, Regret Remains

In the dark of night, the factory yard behind Mo Harbor Bridge echoed with the sounds of a brutal fight. Tiger, clutching the back of his hand where Wu Cheng'an had slashed him, glared furiously and shouted, "Catch him! Don’t let him get away!"

Zhang Qinglin spun around and pressed close behind Wu Cheng'an. He scanned the fierce faces before him, then flicked his gaze sideways to Wu Cheng'an. He could see Wu’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving, and his shirt was already soaked with blood, which dripped steadily from the hem.

"Why did you come back? Didn’t I tell you to go with the others?" Wu Cheng'an’s words, though harsh, carried a deep concern in his eyes. This time, he truly didn’t know if they could escape.

"You’re hurt. Don’t talk. I won’t leave you here alone. I promised Grandma I’d protect you." Zhang Qinglin shifted his stance, reached to the side of his backpack, and pulled out the two broken tobacco pipes tied there. He gripped one in each hand.

"What are you all standing around for? Get them!" Tiger barked again. The dozen or so men encircling them clenched their weapons, faces grim, advancing.

Suddenly, a voice rang out, "Wait!"

Several figures approached from the courtyard gate, led by two burly men. The pair took a step to either side as another man emerged from behind them. Zhang Qinglin recognized him immediately—it was Young Master Chen, the second son.

Seeing Chen arrive, Tiger hurried forward, fawning, "Young Master Chen, you came in person at this hour? If you needed something, you could have just sent word."

Chen’s expression was stern as he dabbed his handkerchief, his gaze sweeping over Zhang Qinglin and Wu Cheng'an surrounded by the crowd.

"You let them get away, Tiger. Do you even want this job anymore?" A rough voice spoke from behind Chen.

Tiger’s face twisted with anxiety and he rushed forward, "Boss, let me explain..."

Chen turned to Zhang Qinglin. "You again? Not bad, you found this place so quickly. Pity, even though you rescued Old Wu, as for that girl... heh..."

Zhang Qinglin started, his voice sharp with urgency and anger. "Where did you hide her? Let her go. I know what you want."

Chen set aside his handkerchief and smiled slowly. "Then hand over the item."

"I’ll give it to you, but only if you bring her here," Zhang Qinglin demanded.

Chen’s smile widened. "I already told you—she isn’t here. If I told you that little girl was already..."

"What did you do to her?" Zhang Qinglin roared.

"Pity, I wasn’t the one who took her. What could I do to her? If you give me what I want, maybe I’ll help you find her." Chen’s sly grin only fueled Zhang Qinglin’s fury.

Zhang Qinglin, gripping the pipes, lost all patience. He charged straight at Chen. "Where is she?"

Before he could reach Chen, someone blocked his path, and a fight broke out. Wu Cheng'an also lashed out with knife and fists at those around him.

Moments later, both Zhang Qinglin and Wu Cheng'an were battered and bruised. Zhang spat blood, pointing at Chen. "If you want this, dream on. Without Yueyue, you’ll never get it." He pulled a map from his bag, took out a lighter, and set it alight. Sparks flared, devouring the paper.

Wu Cheng'an stared in disbelief as the ashes drifted to the ground.

"You think that tattered map was what I wanted?" Chen sneered, unfazed. "Looks like I was dealing with the wrong people. Good luck." He turned to the heavyset man beside him. "I’ll leave this to you. Make it clean."

"Understood," the man replied, nodding.

With that, Chen and his followers left.

"Boys, do it quickly and cleanly," Heavy Belly ordered Tiger and the others, then left with two more men.

The group wasted no time—they charged Zhang Qinglin and Wu Cheng'an.

This time, the two were completely overwhelmed. Zhang Qinglin, exhausted, braced against his attacker and said to Wu Cheng'an, "I’m sorry. I was reckless. I didn’t expect this."

"No point talking now," Wu Cheng'an replied, locking eyes with him.

Just as they were about to be swallowed by the crowd, a thunderous crash split the night. The courtyard gate burst open, and a car sped inside.

Everyone turned in shock.

Xu Bin drove his Santana straight in, headlights blazing at Tiger and his men.

"Zhang! Get in, quick!" Xu Bin shouted through the open window.

Zhang Qinglin hurriedly propped up Wu Cheng'an and rushed to the Santana.

"Don’t let them escape!" Tiger roared.

Zhang Qinglin opened the back door, helped Wu Cheng'an inside, then grabbed an iron rod from the ground and jumped in himself.

Xu Bin spun the wheel, stomped the accelerator, and shot for the gate.

Tiger’s men tried to block the exit, but Xu Bin threw the car into reverse, then forward again, finally slamming the pedal and crashing through.

No sooner had they cleared the gate than Tiger jumped into his own car to give chase, with several motorcycles following.

Zhang Qinglin glanced back and saw Tiger’s car lagging behind. He let out a breath of relief and turned to Xu Bin. "Uncle Xu, where are Cheng Che and the others?"

"Don’t worry. I’ve already sent them to my brother’s place," Xu Bin replied, eyes darting between the gearshift and the mirrors.

Wu Cheng'an’s face was deathly pale, sweat pouring down. Suddenly, his bloody hand slipped from the seat, and he collapsed backward.

Zhang Qinglin quickly fished out the remaining medicine powder and gauze from his bag, lifted Wu Cheng'an’s shirt.

He peeled away the soaked bandage and gauze, revealing a wound already festering and inflamed. He glanced at Wu Cheng'an’s face—ashen, yet his eyes remained bright, staring in surprise at Zhang’s hand over his abdomen.

"Can you manage? Never mind, I’ll do it myself," Wu Cheng'an muttered weakly, trying to raise his right hand.

"This wound is serious. We need a hospital. Uncle Xu—" Zhang Qinglin looked at the ragged injury.

Wu Cheng'an grabbed his arm. "It’s nothing. No hospital. Take me to my second uncle... I have important questions for him. Just patch me up."

"You’re going to die like this. The wound’s rotten. We need a hospital."

Wu Cheng'an glared at him, voice hoarse. "I said no hospital! Stop fussing. I’ll do it myself."

Seeing Wu Cheng'an push him away and reach for the gauze, Zhang Qinglin snatched it, then hurriedly used his knife to cut away the infected flesh, sprinkled medicine over the wound, and pressed gauze to it.

Through the ordeal, Wu Cheng'an uttered not a sound. He clenched his brow, gritted his teeth, enduring the pain until Zhang Qinglin took off his own jacket to help him change, and only then did Wu Cheng'an exhale in relief.

The cars sped along the Yellow River embankment, Tiger’s SUV ramming the battered Santana. The motorcycle riders, wielding long knives, raced up on both sides, hacking at the old car.

The embankment road was eerily quiet at night, the river on either side reflecting the full, bright moon, the emerald trees lining the banks creating a beautiful nocturnal scene.

Tiger’s SUV had now overtaken them. Xu Bin swerved, scraping past Tiger’s car to slip ahead.

Zhang Qinglin clenched his fists, staring out the window, troubled by a nagging suspicion that something about all this was deeply wrong.

A loud crash—the rear of their car jolted, skidding forward as Tiger, wild-eyed, rammed them.

The two motorcycles now flanked the Santana, blades scraping along its sides. Xu Bin roared, "Those bastards dare scratch my car? I’ll show them!"

He swung the car to one side, sideswiping a motorcycle. Tiger’s SUV boxed them in from behind. Xu Bin rammed another motorcycle, sending it crashing, then knocked the other flying.

As they neared the end of the embankment, Tiger’s SUV overtook them, cut in front, and began reversing into their Santana.

After two or three collisions, the windshield was shattered, the front of the car a wreck.

As they headed down the slope off the embankment, Xu Bin warned, "Hold on tight, seatbelts on. I’m taking out that bastard."

He floored the accelerator. With a thunderous crash, both vehicles tumbled down the slope, rolling over and over.

Zhang Qinglin was left dizzy and disoriented. When he came to, his whole body felt broken, but after a moment he realized he could still move. Their car had flipped upside down; nearby, Tiger’s SUV was in worse shape. Tiger himself was pinned inside, bloodied, his arm hanging out the window—clearly dead.

Struggling, Zhang Qinglin turned and saw Wu Cheng'an slumped beside him. The driver’s seat was empty—no sign of Xu Bin. Zhang woke Wu Cheng'an, crawled out first, then pulled Wu Cheng'an after him, dragging him aside as he shouted for Xu Bin.

There was no response. A sense of dread seized him. He ran forward and saw an arm protruding from the front of the car.

"Uncle Xu, you scared me half to death. Are you alright? We need to get out of here," Zhang Qinglin said, holding onto the car.

A large shard of glass was lodged deep in Xu Bin’s chest. He was gasping for breath, staring at Zhang Qinglin. His limp arm reached for his chest; with each breath, blood spurted from the wound.

Zhang Qinglin dared not pull the glass out, knowing it would only hasten the bleeding. "Uncle Xu, hold on. I’ll be right back..." He started to rise.

Xu Bin grabbed his hand. "Lin..." Blood gushed from his mouth before he could finish.

"Don’t talk, Uncle Xu. I’ll save you. You’re not going to die," Zhang Qinglin knelt by him, clutching his hand.

Xu Bin coughed, blood filling his mouth and eyes bulging. With his last strength, he muttered something about where to place the White Jade Lamp, that both it and he should be buried on Jing Mountain, and that he’d found a clue about Zhang Qinglin’s father’s whereabouts. He struggled to pull a photograph from his pocket, wanting to say more, but before he could finish, he was gone.

They’d only known each other a few days, but Xu Bin had quietly looked out for him all along. Zhang Qinglin gazed at his body in grief.

"Zhang Qinglin, we have to go! It’s going to blow!" Wu Cheng'an staggered over, gave a quick glance at the dead Xu Bin, then dragged Zhang Qinglin away.

As he stood, Zhang Qinglin grabbed the photo from Xu Bin’s hand.

They’d only gone a few steps when flames erupted behind them, followed by an explosion. The nearby SUV blew up as well, fire roaring.

Zhang Qinglin was thrown to the ground. Rising, he looked back to see the carnage—the inferno engulfing both vehicles. Remorse filled him for failing to bring Xu Bin’s body back to Jing Mountain. He tucked the photograph away and turned, only to find Wu Cheng'an had collapsed, unconscious.