Chapter Thirty-Four: The Death of Qiao Yuan

Uncle Zhong got out of the car and quickly went to the hospital.

"Xiao Zhou?" he called in a low voice.

The young man huddled in the corner suddenly looked up; he was one of Chen's men who had been following Qiao Yuan.

His trouser legs were covered in mud, and the tip of his nose was red from the cold: "Uncle Zhong, you've finally come!"

"How's it inside?" Uncle Zhong asked, frowning.

Xiao Zhou swallowed hard and said, "Qiao Yuan has been in the operating room by A Chen for almost two hours now, and the Crescent Moon Gang is guarding the door. I'm watching from the stairwell, and they won't even let a fly in!"

Uncle Zhong nodded, feeling both happy and worried. He was happy because Qiao Yuan seemed to be dying, but worried because he didn't know if he was really beyond saving.

Uncle Zhong immediately said, "Take me to see!"

Xiao Zhou pulled Uncle Zhong along the flowerbed path towards the hand surgery room. The two of them crouched down and peered into the room through the gaps in the side.

Four burly men in black suits stood at the entrance to the operating room.

Uncle Zhong squinted and looked ahead.

A moment later, Ah Chen arrived in a flurry of activity, accompanied by an old man.

Uncle Zhong recognized Chen Yongqing as the strategist Qiao Yuan relied on, whom everyone in the martial arts world called "Uncle Chen".

What Ah Chen whispered in Uncle Chen's ear caused Uncle Chen's face to turn deathly pale. His cane slammed against the bluestone slab with a loud thud. Overwhelmed with anger, he even swore, "How the hell did you protect Master Qiao?! Didn't I tell you to stay by his side at all times?!"

Ah Chen lowered his head, his eyes moist: "Uncle Chen, it was Madam who asked Master Qiao to go to the old mansion in Hongkou, saying it was important... Master Qiao was afraid something would happen to Madam, so he went alone! Uncle Chen, you know... Master Qiao doesn't care about anyone, but he was different with Madam... Who knew there was some son of a bitch hiding there who shot Master Qiao in the chest..."

Uncle Chen abruptly released his grip and took two steps back. His eyes flashed with anger mixed with confusion. "Madam…did you hire this assassin?"

Ah Chen wiped his face, his voice trembling with tears: "Someone must have been sabotaging us. Yesterday, Master Qiao clearly rushed to save Madam, but Madam misunderstood and thought he had blown up the factory!"

Uncle Chen gripped his cane tightly, his knuckles cracking softly. "I told you long ago, with his temperament, he'd die at Lin Jintang's hands sooner or later!"

Ah Chen lowered his head, looking like a deflated sack, "Master Qiao... he always cared most about Madam..."

Uncle Chen's shoulders slumped, and he slowly lowered his arms.

...

The operating room door creaked open.

The doctor in the white coat took off his mask, revealing a tired expression. Uncle Chen and Ah Chen immediately surrounded him, asking in unison, "Doctor, how is he?"

Uncle Zhong also watched nervously.

The doctor shook his head, his voice tinged with regret: "The bullet pierced the heart. We did our best..."

"Impossible!" Ah Chen lunged forward, grabbing the doctor's collar. "Did you not put your heart into the treatment?! Master Qiao is so lucky, how could he just die like this?!"

The doctor, pale with fright, struggled to say, "The patient was already in hemorrhagic shock when he arrived. We transfused eight bags of blood, but we still couldn't save him..."

Uncle Chen's cane fell to the ground with a thud. He stared at the white cloth in the doctor's hand, trembling all over.

The doctor pushed out an operating table covered with a white sheet.

Ah Chen hugged Qiao Yuan's body tightly, crying uncontrollably.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor, and several reporters, drawn by the commotion, rushed over with cameras. "Where's Qiao Yuan? Is Qiao Yuan dead?" "Let us take a picture of his remains!"

The flashes went off one after another.

Uncle Chen flashed a sharp look at them, "Who allowed them to come in!"

The burly men of the Crescent Moon Gang immediately surrounded them, and one of them grabbed the camera of the reporter in front and slammed it to the ground.

The reporter struggled to pick up his camera, but another burly man kicked him in the stomach, saying, "If you keep making trouble, I'll send you to the morgue too!"

The reporter was truly tough; clutching his stomach, he got up and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva: "You bunch of accomplices! Qiao Yuan is a traitor even in death!"

Those burly men weren't pushovers either. Since the other party was so arrogant and insulted their gang leader, they naturally gave him a good beating. It was Uncle Chen who called a halt: "That's enough, let's not bleed any more blood here."

Only then did those burly men stop.

The reporter spat out a mouthful of blood and left indignantly.

Uncle Zhong stared at the chaotic scene, grabbed Xiao Zhou, and pointed to the passage next to him: "Go, hide there, and see where they take Qiao Yuan in a while."

Xiao Zhou nodded and crouched down to slip past.

Uncle Zhong then pulled out a silver coin, quickly walked over to the reporter who had been kicked, and stuffed the coin into his hand: "Young man, that Qiao Yuan from the Crescent Moon Gang really is..."

The reporter glanced at the silver dollar, spat, and said, "Dead! It looks like it's about to die. Too bad I didn't get a picture. What bad luck!"

Uncle Zhong managed a slight smile, then patted the reporter on the shoulder: "Thank you for your hard work."

The reporter walked away, rubbing his stomach.

Uncle Zhong turned and looked towards the operating room door.

Ah Chen was squatting on the ground, holding Qiao Yuan's body, his shoulders trembling.

The burly men of the Crescent Moon Gang formed a circle, blocking them inside, like a pack of dogs protecting a dead wolf.

Uncle Zhong straightened his clothes and felt that there was no need for him to stay any longer; he should go back and tell the young master the good news.

Ah, life and death are truly unpredictable. No one could have predicted that Qiao Yuan, the "living Yama" who roamed Jiangcheng, would die at the hands of his own wife. In the end, he was nothing more than wrapped in a blood-soaked white cloth and dragged to the morgue by his men like a dead dog.

Uncle Zhong shook his head, banishing those thoughts.

He walked out of the hospital, crossed a road, and got into the car: "Back to the Chen residence."

...

Uncle Zhong returned to the Chen residence.

Chen Kan sat on the sofa, holding a half-full glass of whiskey in his hand, with water droplets condensing on the glass.

When Uncle Zhong saw his dejected appearance, the excitement he felt when he first saw Qiao Yuan's death vanished instantly, and he even thought with some disdain: the Chen family's offspring are truly getting worse and worse.

Hearing footsteps, Chen Kan slightly raised his eyes.

Uncle Zhong could only quickly lower his head and honestly say, "I went to see him, and Qiao Yuan should be dead."

Chen Kan tightened his grip on the whiskey glass, causing water droplets from the glass to drip through his fingers onto the carpet, spreading into dark stains.

When he looked up, his eyes were red as if they were about to bleed, and he couldn't contain his excitement: "Say it again?"

"I heard from the hospital doctor that the bullet pierced his heart and he couldn't be saved," Uncle Zhong said with a grim face. "I leaked the news to a newspaper I know, and their reporters all went there. That reporter saw that Qiao Yuan was completely dead."

Chen Kan suddenly stood up, not caring that his suit jacket had slipped to the ground. He grabbed Uncle Zhong's shoulder, his knuckles turning white: "You're not lying to me? He's really dead?"

"I wouldn't dare lie to you." Uncle Zhong looked at his distorted face, a hint of mockery in his eyes, but his expression remained calm. "Qiao Yuan is really dead. The Crescent Moon Gang members are all like stray dogs."

Chen Kan laughed, with a hysterical sense of exhilaration.

He turned and lunged at the liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of whiskey, unscrewed the cap, and gulped it down. The spicy liquor flowed down his chin and into his collar, soaking his shirt.

"Six years ago..." He wiped his mouth, the wine dripping from between his fingers onto the floor, "He stole my Jintang, killed my men, and now he's finally getting his comeuppance!"

"Young Master, please stop drinking." Uncle Zhong tried to grab the bottle, but Chen Kan brushed him away.

"Not drinking?" Chen Kan glared at him, his eyes bloodshot. "I've waited for this day for over two thousand days and nights! That bastard Qiao Yuan thought he was the living Yama of Jiangcheng, but what happened? He died at the hands of the woman he loved most! Hahahaha!" He laughed wildly, then suddenly smashed the bottle on the ground, sending shards of glass flying. "I'm going to find Lin Tang and tell her this good news!"

Chen Kan acted as if he had gone mad, completely disregarding Uncle Zhong's objections, and had someone drive him to the old house in Hongkou.

...

The door to the old house in Hongkou was kicked open by Chen Kan.

As Ah Xiu opened the door, clutching the corner of her apron, before she could even see who it was, he grabbed her wrist: "Where's Jin Tang?"

"Miss... went to the factory." Ah Xiu had never seen Chen Kan so deranged, and she involuntarily pulled her hand back in fright. "The factory exploded yesterday, and she went to clean up the mess before dawn this morning..."

Before Ah Xiu could finish speaking, Chen Kan had already turned and run down the steps.

Cheng Qing slowly sneered, "Is Young Master Chen in such a hurry to show off his achievements?" She leaned against the door frame, holding a well-worn copy of "La Dame aux Camélias" in her hand, her eyes gleaming.

Chen Kan ignored her completely, slammed the car door shut, and told the driver to drive away immediately.

...

In the factory ruins, the wind howled past, whipping up dust.

Lin Tang was wearing a moon-white cheongsam, the hem of which was stained with mud, and her hair was disheveled by the wind.

Several workers' family members surrounded her, shouting insults incessantly.

"Lin Tang! You and Qiao Yuan are birds of a feather!" The woman in the coarse cloth shirt rushed over. "My husband was carrying goods in the factory yesterday, and today he's buried in the rubble! You rich people, do you not care about our lives at all?!"

Lin Tang didn't dodge, but stared blankly at the woman's tears. The wind swirled dust into her eyes, and she blinked, her eyelashes covered with tiny grains of sand.

This is what Chen Kan saw when he arrived at the factory.

He quickly got out of the car, squeezed through the crowd, grabbed the woman's wrist, and flung her away. "She has nothing to do with Qiao Yuan!"

The woman was startled by his strength, withdrew her hand, and spat: "You capitalists, not a single one of you is any good!"

People around joined in the cursing, and some even picked up broken bricks from the ground and threw them in this direction.

Chen Kan pulled Lin Tang behind him, using his back to shield her from the flying debris, and coldly rebuked, "Who dares to touch her?!"

The broken bricks hit his back with a dull thud.

Lin Tang grabbed his sleeve, her eyes filled with pity: "Chen Kan, you don't need to..."

"Jintang," Chen Kan interrupted her, turning his face to her with a strange glint in his eyes, "I have something to tell you."

Lin Tang looked at him, her heart suddenly skipped a beat, and an ominous premonition swept over her.

"Qiao Yuan is dead."