Chapter 3, No. 76
Qiao Yuan didn't know how he left the tavern.
The snow fell heavier and heavier, landing on him and melting into water that was icy cold.
He staggered down the deserted street, his mind a complete mess.
He left drunk and walked into an alley, where a group of people were waiting for him.
The leader was a scarred-faced man, the very same Axe Gang thug he'd just chased away at the tavern. "Kid, didn't expect that, did you?"
Scarface grinned maliciously, holding an iron rod in his hand. "Dare to hit someone from the Axe Gang? Today you'll leave this world strangled!"
Qiao Yuan squinted, his drunkenness mostly gone.
He flexed his wrist, and his finger bones cracked.
"You think you can take me on?" He sneered, his heart filled with bitterness he had nowhere to vent, and he was actually looking to test his skills on the people in front of him.
"Attack!" Scarface gave the order, and more than a dozen thugs swarmed forward.
Qiao Yuan snatched a wooden stick that was thrown at him, and the sound of it snapping in the snowy night was particularly crisp.
He kicked a thug who lunged at him, sending him crashing into a coal pile against the wall. The man howled in pain and rolled into a snowdrift.
"Is that all you've got?" he sneered, punching another thug in the chin. The man collapsed to the ground, spitting out teeth mixed with blood.
"You son of a bitch..." he cursed, trying to throw a punch, but several thugs grabbed his arms and stuffed him into a sack. Fists rained down on him, stinging his ribs. He struggled to kick one of them over, but he grew weaker and weaker.
Before losing consciousness, Qiao Yuan's last thought was: "Truly, a tiger fallen into the plains is bullied by dogs..."
...
Qiao Yuan was woken up by being splashed with cold water.
He coughed, opened his eyes, and felt a splitting headache. His mouth was full of the taste of blood, and there was a large, sticky bump on the back of his head.
Before him was a cold, hard room with gray-white paint on the walls. Several wooden crates covered with Japanese labels were piled in the corner, and a kerosene lamp hung from the ceiling, its yellow light hurting his eyes.
His hands and feet were tied to a wooden chair with thick hemp rope, leaving red marks on his wrists. The skin was chafed raw from the struggle, and the blood seeping out stained the hemp rope, forming dark brown scabs.
"Mr. Qiao is awake?"
Two men in black uniforms stood nearby. The one in the lead was a man with round-framed glasses, a cold smile on his lips, and a Browning pistol in his hand.
Qiao Yuan frowned: "Who are you?"
The man pulled out a black badge and waved it: "Operation Team No. 76, Wang Yuxian."
What is Number 76?
Qiao Yuan stared at the ID card bearing the number "76," his Adam's apple bobbing as he spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva: "Chairman Wang? I think he's just a lapdog kept by the Japanese."
Qiao Yuan was the type of person who wouldn't respond to force but would respond to gentle persuasion, especially now that he was all alone. Upon hearing this, he merely sneered, "I, Qiao Yuan, haven't taken life or death seriously since my very first day out in this world. Today, I, Qiao Yuan, am injured because of you. You want me to beg you? Dream on!"
Qiao Yuan could tell that they were being controlled by others and would never dare to kill him, so he just sneered.
Wang Yuxian paused for a moment, then a smile appeared on his face, though it was somewhat forced: "Mr. Qiao's demeanor is as elegant as ever! No wonder Chairman Wang has long heard of Mr. Qiao's reputation. Hearing that you have returned to Jiangcheng, he cannot let you be humiliated by the Axe Gang's petty thugs. He has to bring you back no matter what, hoping to recruit you into our team!"
Qiao Yuan raised an eyebrow and shook his bound wrists. "Is this how you treat your guests?"
Wang Yuxian said, "This is indeed a form of neglect, but we also know that Master Qiao is exceptionally skilled in martial arts. Back then, he single-handedly took on three branches of the Axe Gang. Only by binding him like this can we have a proper conversation."
"You've misunderstood. I'm all alone now. I just got back and learned that even my Crescent Moon Gang has disbanded. I'm empty-handed now and have no value to exploit."
Wang Yuxian adjusted his glasses: "Mr. Qiao is too modest. We've heard about your feud with Mr. Chen. He hired Communists to assassinate you back then, and now he's married your wife. Can you tolerate such resentment? We just want to use your help to deal with Mr. Chen!"
Qiao Yuan's mind raced. He remembered the old man selling wine saying that "Chen Kan is now the Vice Minister of Finance in the Wang Jingwei regime." This Wang Jingwei regime seemed to have a strong connection with the 76th Division. Could it be that they didn't trust Chen Kan and wanted him to deal with him?
Not understanding the other party's intentions, he simply chuckled, which aggravated the wound on the back of his head, causing him to wince in pain: "I'm just a gangster making a living, I don't know anything about government struggles."
Seeing that Qiao Yuan was unmoved by either soft or hard tactics, the other party became somewhat annoyed.
"I knew it! What's there to be polite about a washed-up leader of the Green Gang?"
Just as the standoff was reaching its conclusion, the door creaked open.
"Team Leader Wang," she said, her voice colder and more authoritative than it had been back then, "let me try to persuade this Master Qiao."
Wang Yuxian, who had been looking fierce, smiled upon hearing Cheng Qing's voice and said, "Oh, right, Team Leader Cheng, I forgot you and this Mr. Qiao have a history."
Qiao Yuan looked at Cheng Qing in front of him with confusion and unfamiliarity, but more than anything, he felt disgusted by the bloodstains on her.
Cheng Qing stood in front of him, her icy face suddenly breaking into a smile, "Master Qiao, it's been a long time."
Qiao Yuan kept a straight face and didn't say anything.
Wang Yuxian, feigning superiority, angrily retorted, "Qiao Yuan, don't push your luck!"
Qiao Yuan simply closed his eyes.
Wang Yuxian said with a fawning expression, "Team Leader Cheng, this Qiao Yuan doesn't know what's good for him. Should we teach him a lesson?"
Cheng Qing glared at him. "What business is it of yours what I do with him?"
Wang Yuxian felt awkward and remained silent.
Cheng Qing waved, signaling them to leave.
After Wang Yuxian left, Cheng Qing untied the ropes binding Qiao Yuan.
He turned around, took out a pack of Hademen cigarettes from his pocket, took one out and put it in his mouth, then tossed one to Qiao Yuan.
"Alright, we're old acquaintances, let's stop talking like this, it's awkward." Cheng Qing sat on the wooden box opposite him, the hem of his military uniform brushing against the Japanese label on the edge of the box.
Qiao Yuan took the cigarette, but didn't light it. He twisted the cigarette between his fingers, crumpling the paper. "Cheng Qing, it's been years. I never imagined you'd be at No. 76. What kind of place is this? A concentration camp for Japanese lackeys?"
Cheng Qing chuckled, and cigarette ash fell on her military boots, leaving a light gray mark: "Master Qiao, you really haven't changed. You can't expect anything good to come out of a dog's mouth."
Qiao Yuan looked up, his gaze like a knife chilled by ice: "Cheng Qing, I'm not like you. I'd rather die than be a dog."
Cheng Qing paused, the lighter clicked shut, the flame went out, and her face darkened in the shadows: "Master Qiao, you'd better watch your words. The Cheng Qing of today is no longer the concubine who used to bend and scold you at your behest. She is now the action team leader of No. 76 who can protect her own life."
Qiao Yuan stared into her eyes, then suddenly laughed, a laugh tinged with bloodlust: "Are you trying to scare me?"
"How could I dare to scare you, Mr. Qiao? I just want you to work with me!"
"Pull me down with you? Make me a dog of the 76th Division with you?" Qiao Yuan sneered.
“Cheng Qing,” he placed the dagger on the table, his voice as clear as if it had been soaked in snow water, “Cheng Qing, I am a man of the Jianghu, I do not do anything that involves the government.” He looked up, staring at her collar insignia, the silver stars gleaming coldly, “Besides, I only want to be a human being, not a dog.”
Cheng Qing wasn't angry. She stood up, straightened her military uniform collar, and her military boots made a crisp sound on the floor. "Master Qiao, I advise you to think it over carefully." She walked to the door, then stopped, placing her hand on the doorknob. "Tomorrow morning, if you don't agree, there are over a thousand kinds of torture waiting for you in the dungeon of No. 76. I guarantee you'll suffer terribly with every single one."
The door creaked shut. Qiao Yuan touched the wound on the back of his head; the blood had congealed, leaving a dark brown scar.
He looked out the window, where the snow was falling heavier and heavier, turning the entire city of Jiangcheng into a white tomb.
The wind slipped in through the cracks in the window, making the kerosene lamp flicker and casting a long shadow of him, like that of a wounded old dog.
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