Adults don't hold grudges against puppies.
No matter how much they planned, they never expected that another local tyrant who was at odds with Long Biao and controlled the eastern and western parts of the region would come to attack.
Compared to Long Biao's robust physique, this local thug was lean and wiry, with a broken eyebrow and a scar on his face, and his vest revealed skin tattooed with dragons over his shoulders.
His imposing presence was even more imposing than Long Biao's earlier. A vast entourage followed him, numbering innumerable. As soon as he entered, he shouted, "Where's Long Biao? Tell him to get out here! Let's not play dirty tricks, let's fight face to face. If he wins, I'll acknowledge him as the boss; if I win, the north and south are mine!"
March was the first to reach for the gun at his waist. He concealed himself in the crowd, gave Yang Ke a wink, and said, "I'll handle things here for now. You go find Brother Biao. Those two he brought might be able to take on more than one person."
Yang Ke instinctively frowned, wanting to refuse, but Ma Qi's urging silenced her—"Hurry up!"
Helpless, Yang Ke had no choice but to use the crowd as cover and crouch down to sneak into Long Biao's room.
But to his utter surprise, when he opened the door and reported what was happening outside to Long Biao, he was met with a single word from Long Biao, who stood up without hesitation: "Let's go!"
Walk?
Yang Ke watched as Long Biao, who always upheld the "brotherhood culture," strode to a wall and opened a hidden door leading outside.
He turned and glanced at the dumbfounded Yang Ke, his impatience in his tone being selectively ignored by Yang Ke at that moment: "Hurry up! Do you want to throw your life away to them? The best of the thirty-six stratagems is to run away, don't you understand?"
Yang Ke, who seemed to have been brought back to his senses by being called, stumbled and followed Long Biao's departing steps.
As Yang Ke stealthily made his way to the car, he thought of Ma Qi, who was still in the casino. He couldn't help but run up to Long Biao and ask, "We're leaving, what about Ma Qi?"
At this moment, Long Biao had just sat down in the car. He glanced at Yang Ke, who had followed him, and his thick lips moved, opening with a hidden meaning: "Ma Qi? Let's go down the mountain first. I just sent a message to the other brothers by phone. We can't fight against the many with the few, understand? Don't worry, some brothers will come to support Ma Qi later."
Still feeling uneasy, Yang Ke shifted her body nervously, turning her face to the window.
Suddenly, before they knew it, several men on motorcycles appeared on the way down the mountain. They were quite reasonable and sent one of them to stand up and shout, "Everyone get off! We only want to catch that scoundrel Long Biao. If you are not Long Biao, we will release you."
As if to add to the intimidation, one of them held a gun and fired a shot.
"What... what should we do, Brother Biao?" Yang Ke gripped the gun tightly in his hand, staring intently at the people in front of him, as if he were ready to get out of the car and fight them to the death at any moment.
Long Biao satisfied this desire that he had revealed in his actions.
"You can go down now."
Yang Ke, who trusted Long Biao completely, had no doubts. The car door was opened, and he got out of the car with his gun in hand, firing at the group blocking his way without hesitation.
The other side was clearly caught off guard. Amidst the continuous banging sounds, Yang Ke tried his best to dodge, but he was exposed to the group's line of sight and became a walking target, with bullets hitting his arms and legs.
But then, the car without him restarted its engine and accelerated downwards.
Those who were blocking the road quickly dodged and let Long Biao escape.
What was left behind was Yang Ke, who seemed to have lost his soul—but he didn't need to lose his soul, because his body was about to die.
Perhaps out of revenge, or simply because Yang Ke was related to Long Biao, he was riddled with bullets.
Even he himself couldn't remember what he was thinking when he fell down.
Even after death, he remained preoccupied with that one question: "Why did you abandon me?"
And the story of March is even worse.
He originally intended to remain hidden among the gamblers, but perhaps his arrogant attitude in charging fees stirred their anger, as their "interests" were threatened by him.
Someone shouted first: "Long Biao is in the back room, and there's one of his henchmen here!"
One begets two, two begets three.
March was pushed out by them.
When faced with a true threat to one's life, the mind goes blank, and the body trembles uncontrollably. He had brushed with death before in the North, but then he wasn't alone. Now, it was an overwhelming threat, and he was the one being crushed.
The scarred man with the broken eyebrow walked up to him with his chin held high, raised his hand and pressed the gun against his forehead. "Take us to find Long Biao, or I'll kill you."
"No, don't kill me, I'll take you there." March trembled as he hurriedly agreed, turning around obsequiously and heading towards Long Biao's room.
He swallowed hard, gripped the doorknob in front of him, and easily turned it open. The door, which was no longer closed, slid inward slightly, creating a crack.
The gun pressed against the back of March's head with some force. "You go in first."
March slowly moved his legs inside, the gun behind his head falling back down, and he quietly squeezed his way into the room.
I don't know what triggered him.
Perhaps it was the empty room, or perhaps it was the unwavering loyalty to Long Biao in his heart.
"Bang!"
The scarred man with the broken eyebrow outside the door sharpened his gaze and immediately kicked the door, only to find March lying on the ground.
He committed suicide by shooting himself.
Is it pathetic? Yes, it is pathetic.
“In the end, it was all our own choice,” Ma Qi said, still occupying Qiu Kou’s body.
He scratched his head and gave a wry smile: "Regret? Not at all. Brother Biao, he was really good to us, we truly considered him a brother."
Yang Ke kept his head down and didn't say a word. He raised his arm, and the exposed arm occasionally showed signs of bullet holes.
With an "I understand" expression, Wen Dai nodded knowingly, and then, without saying a word, drove Ma Qi, who was inside Qiu Kou's body, out.
She looked at the two ghosts and said, "Yes, you are very loyal, but don't harm other innocent people, even if you don't intend to kill them. Especially you, March."
After regaining control of his body, Qiu Kou swayed a few times and staggered several steps. He raised his hand to support Chen Sizhe, but the other party coldly moved aside to avoid him.
Qiu Kou, who had just landed hard on his buttocks, was in so much pain that his face contorted. He hissed and tilted his head back. When he saw Yang Ke and Ma Qi, the two ghosts, he seemed to be numb with fear. "What do you two want? It was really hard for me to buy this house. I finally managed to buy such a cheap house. I can't possibly resell it at a low price, can I?"
Wen Dai glanced at Qiu Kou and casually asked, "Don't you want to move?"
The answer Qiu gave was unequivocal: "No! If I might die living in this house, I'd rather die. I can't afford a house, and I don't want to sell it at a loss. It's very difficult to have a home in Bay City."
With a soft "hmm" as her answer, Wen Dai looked up at Chen Sizhe, who had been standing in the background the whole time. She moved closer to him, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "What do you think?"
"The feng shui here is good, the main problem is the layout of the floor tiles. The four corners and the center are blocked by the red center tile of a mahjong tile. If you tear them down and redecorate, there won't be any problems. These two can't be left." The man put his hands in his pockets and glanced casually at the two ghosts who were "obediently" standing together.
Wen Dai glanced at Yang Ke and Ma Qi standing together. The two ghosts looked unexpectedly innocent, but Wen Dai didn't think they were innocent.
"Yang Ke improves his cultivation by absorbing the life essence of passersby; Ma Qi improves his cultivation by absorbing the life essence of residents. You two are quite impressive. Don't play dumb with me."
Yang Ke and Ma Qi scratched their heads in unison, both looking embarrassed. Yang Ke smiled ingratiatingly and said, "I really didn't know. At that time, I was like I had lost my mind. I think about the things I did before and I feel they were all childish."
March chimed in, "Me too, me too."
If a soul lingers in a place of death for too long, it is indeed easy for it to gradually lose its senses, but this varies from ghost to ghost.
Wen Dai didn't delve into the matter further, casually waving her hand and saying, "Alright, no need to say anything more. There's no resentment on either of you. I'll have my immortals send you to where you belong."
Knowing they were about to leave this world, Yang Ke and Ma Qi, whose arms were being held by several soldiers, once again showed confused expressions. Without asking any questions, they were led away in a daze.
Qiu Kou, who had been affected for a longer time, didn't even need Wen Dai to open his third eye for him. He saw the suddenly appearing immortals and soldiers on his own. He stared blankly as Yang Ke and Ma Qi gradually disappeared, muttering, "How many things in this world are still unknown to me..."
A talisman was suddenly thrust in front of him. Two slender fingers held the plastic wrapping around the talisman, while the owner of the hand tilted his head and looked at him. When he looked over, the owner raised his chin and said, "There are many things you don't know, but you don't need to know them. Take it."
Wen Dai glanced at the red candles and yellow talismans that Chen Sizhe had set up, then turned to look up at Chen Sizhe and spread her hands, saying, "You're going to tell him what you arranged? I can't say it for you, or I might say something wrong."
It would be truly strange if she were wrong.
Chen Sizhe slowly shifted his gaze from Wen Daisheng's innocent face, glanced at Qiu Kou who was staring at him expectantly, and explained in detail:
"For seven days, ensure the candles stay lit. You don't need to watch them 24/7; just relight them if they go out. The yellow talisman must not get wet or be touched. You can remove it after seven days. You can discuss the renovation with the designer during these seven days, and then demolish the original renovations after seven days. These seven days are for exorcising evil spirits."
Qiu Kou nodded and moved his lips, tentatively asking, "So, are we... all settled now?"
"Otherwise what? Remember the final payment." Wen Dai held her phone in one hand and crossed her other hand in front of her chest. She glanced at Qiu Kou and made the man being stared at quickly take out his phone to transfer the money.
After confirming the amount, Wen Dai gave half to Chen Sizhe and then smiled at Qiu Kou, saying, "If you need any more help, feel free to contact me anytime."
Qiu Kou forced a nod with a dry laugh. He really didn't want to need their help again; the travel expenses and handling costs had already wiped out almost two months' salary.
However, compared to losing a house, losing a few tens of thousands of yuan is nothing.
No one paid attention to Qiu Kou's inner thoughts. Wen Dai, having finished her business, left with Chen Sizhe. Tomorrow was the weekend, and their plane tickets were booked for tomorrow. They could use the remaining time to experience the local customs and culture of Bay City—at least that's what Wen Dai thought.
Perhaps it was Yang Ke and Ma Qi's descriptions that had awakened Wen Dai's desire for excitement. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers twitching absently at the seatbelt in front of her. Her eyes darted to the corners of her eyes, and her furtive glance was caught by Chen Sizhe.
What do you want?
Chen Sizhe's long-term interactions made him particularly sensitive to Wen Dai.
Before her thoughts could even surface, they were exposed. Wen Dai grinned silently for a moment, then said lightly and quickly, "Do you have a motorcycle driver's license?"
Chen Sizhe still managed to decipher the words hidden in the muffled voice. Instead of answering, he asked, "What? You want to give it a try?"
“I’m thinking about it.” Wen Dai raised her hand and made a “just a little bit” gesture with her thumb and forefinger.
Unfortunately, driver Xiao Chen had already coldly turned his gaze away. "Riding a heavy motorcycle is very dangerous. You never know what's coming around the next corner. Your speed will leave you no time to react; you don't even need to wait for the corner. Do you know the average lifespan of people in the motorcycle industry?"
Covering her ears as if to stage a scene of deep, melancholy, Wen Dai said with feigned melancholy, "I'm just a poor soul who wants to experience the feeling of riding a motorcycle. I'm 22 years old this year, and I'll be 22 in the second half of the year—and I still haven't ridden a motorcycle. Ah, I feel pathetic for myself."
"To make 22 sound like 82, huh." With a short, cold laugh, Chen Sizhe seemed to finally realize something. He glanced at her for a moment, his tone strange: "...So you don't have a driver's license? You don't mean you want me to give you a ride, do you?"
Wen Dai blinked, realizing that she was indeed thinking of this.
The person sitting in the passenger seat leaned back against the seat back, her posture almost curled up into a small ball, making one think at first glance that someone had bullied her. Her peach blossom eyes were wide open, and she fluttered her eyelashes several times—she seemed to be trying to be cute.
Wen Dai, whom Chen Sizhe interpreted as acting coquettishly, was completely unaware that she was actually just trying to portray herself as the weaker party, since Chen Sizhe didn't seem to respond well to force.
His flat tone revealed a dry, indifferent tone: "You're disgusting. Be normal." The man stared at her for a few seconds before looking away and continuing to drive, leaving her only with a side profile.
"..." Wen Dai straightened up, staring blankly out the car window. If she were to pounce on him now and punch him, would it result in them both getting seriously injured? Forget it, she couldn't do something that would hurt the dog a thousand while hurting herself eight hundred. If she got bitten by a dog, was she supposed to bite back?
Wen Dai, employing a form of mental self-consolation, told herself that adults don't hold grudges against puppies.
But Wen Dai, who was practicing her mental victory strategy, didn't notice that the man in the driver's seat had his ears turning pink and his hands on the steering wheel tightening without his knowledge.
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