He pressed the gun against Da Gao’s lower back and escorted him out of the nightclub. Da Gao’s subordinates trailed behind, itching to make a move, but He Chusan kept his eyes sharp in all directions, leaving them no opening whatsoever. He signaled Xinxin to hail a taxi by the roadside, stripped off Da Gao’s suit jacket to conceal the gun, then struck the back of his neck with a palm chop, knocking him unconscious before shoving him into the car.
The taxi sped off. The driver sensed something amiss and glanced suspiciously into the rearview mirror, but Actor He wore an expression of perfect composure. “My friend’s drunk.”
“Oh. Where to?”
“Temple Street.”
“Eh? Not going home—” Xinxin had just begun to ask when He Chusan shot her a glare.
The girl quickly covered her mouth and fell silent, secretly convinced that her Brother Sam was a hidden master of the mortal world. Tonight, not only had he been possessed by a war god, even his gaze crackled with an electrifying edge—devastatingly handsome!
The taxi stopped at Temple Street. He Chusan dragged the still-dazed Da Gao out, struck him again at the back of the head while no one was looking, then hauled him into another taxi. This time, they retraced their route, returning once more to Tsim Sha Tsui.
Xinxin’s face filled with alarm. Just as she was about to speak again, He Chusan silenced her with another glare.
“Brother Sam, don’t look at me like that—it’s like you’re flirting. You’re so handsome tonight, I’m afraid I might fall for you,” she muttered weakly.
“Shut up!” He Chusan’s eyelids twitched, unconsciously using one of the Big Boss’s favorite phrases.
Soon, the taxi passed by the entrance of Wang Fa nightclub again. He Chusan and Xinxin ducked low beneath the window, spotting several lackeys standing at the street corner with hands on hips, angrily making calls. Even from afar, they could hear them shouting out the license plate number of the taxi from earlier, ordering their companions to give chase.
Having executed this feint, he directed the taxi to turn down two more streets before stopping at his rented apartment building. Together with Xinxin, he dragged the unconscious Da Gao into the elevator.
The moment the door opened and the lights flicked on, Xinxin let out a gasp of admiration. The space wasn’t large, but it was bright; the furnishings were simple yet warm, and through the window one could see the night view of Victoria Harbour. It was, in truth, quite a fine residence.
“Brother Sam, you live here?” she wandered around the living room in awe. “It’s amazing!”
There was no response behind her. She turned—and saw that her previously valiant, dragon-like Brother Sam had suddenly slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor!
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” Xinxin rushed to support him.
It took He Chusan a long while to force out a reply. He lifted a sickly green-tinged face, his voice weak and exhausted. “I’m fine… just too nervous… my stomach hurts…”
“……”
Though Actor He had, in his past turbulent years, witnessed no shortage of thrilling, bloody, and violent spectacles under the protection of the Big Boss, he had always been shielded behind Xia Liuyi—never required to charge into battle himself. Tonight, acting alone in a daring rescue, his fear had begun the moment he boarded the first taxi. His skills were meager at best—he might barely manage against Da Gao alone, but if those thugs had rushed him together, he would have been finished in moments. Fortunately, Da Gao was all bluster and cowardice, and the others were equally timid, allowing him to bluff his way through with sheer acting.
Had anything gone even slightly wrong, both he and his sister would have perished there.
Years of sleepless work had already strained his stomach. Under such stress, it seized up entirely, his legs going weak. Squatting at the doorway, he couldn’t even stand. With Xinxin’s help, he collapsed onto the sofa, curling up and turning green for over ten minutes—completely shattering the admiration she had just begun to feel for him.
Following his instructions, Xinxin had already tied up Da Gao. She handed him a towel wrapped around ice, pouting as she spoke, “So all that ferocity earlier… was just an act?”
“Of course! Your Brother Sam is a law-abiding citizen, not some street gangster. I’ve never fought in my life…” He Chusan curled up like a shrimp on the sofa, barely alive.
“I’m warning you,” he said weakly, pressing the ice to his eyes, “we got lucky this time. If there’s a next time, your mother and my father will only be collecting our corpses.”
“Alright, alright, I get it—you’re a refined gentleman. Acting all fierce and mighty, but actually just a soft-legged shrimp,” the simple-minded girl replied.
“Shut up,” He Chusan groaned, clutching his head. “Go—get the first aid kit. It’s in the cabinet.”
Xinxin fell silent and began treating the wound on his head. When she lifted his hair, she gasped at the ghastly, mangled injury. He Chusan, never one to endure pain like an iron-blooded warrior—except when forced to pretend—let out a string of muffled cries as the antiseptic touched the wound.
“Ah! Hss… gently… ah…”
Biting her lip, Xinxin carefully cleaned and dressed the wound. She wanted to bandage it, but he refused, saying it would be easier to leave it open for treatment, and the location on his forehead wasn’t easily disturbed anyway.
Looking at his horrifying injury, her eyes reddened. “I know I was wrong, Brother. I’ll go back and apologize to Father and Mother. I won’t run around recklessly anymore.”
He Chusan let out a relieved sigh and began lecturing her like an old monk chanting scriptures. “Good. From now on, behave properly and treat your family well.” As he spoke, he struggled to get up.
“What are you doing? Lie down and rest!”
Ignoring her, he steadied himself against the wall and entered the bathroom, shutting the curious Xinxin outside.
Turning on the showerhead, he drenched Da Gao’s head with cold water. The man groaned and stirred, slowly regaining consciousness, only to find his limbs bound behind him with a tie, face pressed to the floor, staring up at He Chusan’s black leather shoes.
He Chusan slipped into full Actor mode. Under the dim light, the bloody gash on his temple made him look terrifying. Squatting down slowly, he pressed the cold barrel of the gun against Da Gao’s wet forehead and mimicked Xia Liuyi’s lazy, chilling smile.
“Speak.”
“I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything! Spare me, spare me!” Da Gao writhed like a worm, screaming. “Mr. He—Hero He—what do you want to know?”
“You said earlier I’d be joining Xiao Ma and the others in reincarnation tonight. What did you mean?”
Da Gao’s eyes shifted as he forced a laugh. “Just trying to scare you—just a joke, Mr. He.”
He Chusan lightly tapped his head with the gun, revealing a sinister smile. “Mr. Gao, you’re right—I do work for the boss. I’m his private accountant. I’ve handled his books for three years. I know his accounts, and I know how he treats people to ‘Children’s Day’. If you’ve never seen it, I wouldn’t mind giving you a demonstration.”
“No—no, no, no!” At the mention of “Children’s Day,” Da Gao’s pale face turned ashen green. “I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”
But as a low-level lackey with little courage or knowledge, he knew only fragments. Two years ago, when Xia Liuyi had just risen to power, Paozai had ordered him and several others to impersonate Xiao Ma’s men, causing trouble everywhere to ruin Xiao Ma and Xia Liuyi’s reputation, bringing pressure from the elders. After that incident, Paozai hid them away, assigning them to underground moneylending operations. Over the past two years, Paozai’s resentment toward Xia Liuyi had only deepened. Today, with Xia Liuyi sentenced and immediately imprisoned, the headquarters convened an overnight high-level meeting. Paozai took most of his forces with him, leaving behind low-profile men like Da Gao to watch the nightclub. He even hinted that by tomorrow, they could openly appear in Xiaoqi Hall’s territories. Da Gao had guessed his boss intended to make a major move amid the chaos, which was why he had spoken recklessly about Xiao Ma and Dongdong being finished.
His words were a mix of truth and falsehood. He Chusan did not fully believe him. When he finished, He Chusan raised the gun without hesitation. Da Gao wailed, about to beg for mercy—
—but He Chusan smashed the gun butt down, knocking him unconscious again.
He removed Da Gao’s foul-smelling sock and stuffed it into his mouth, then exited the bathroom. The apartment walls were thin; though Xinxin couldn’t enter, she had overheard most of the conversation. The way she looked at him now held a new layer of shock.
“Brother… do you really work for a jianghu boss?”
She trailed off, then looked worriedly at him as his face turned pale again, leaning against the wall. “What’s wrong? Your stomach again?”
He Chusan took a few breaths to steady himself. “I’m fine.” Reaching to his waist, he realized his pager had been lost in the chaos. “I need to go out and make a call. You—”
Before he could finish, urgent knocking sounded at the door.
He quickly pushed Xinxin into the bathroom, signaling her to stay silent.
Moving quietly, gun in hand, he approached the door and peered through the peephole—but the corridor was pitch black.
“Who is it?”
“Mr. He, it’s me—A-Sen!” came the low voice from outside.
He Chusan frowned, hesitating briefly.
Five seconds later, he opened the door with a look of surprise, letting A-Sen in. “A-Sen? What are you doing here?”
Noticing the blood on the floor, A-Sen asked, “You’re injured?”
As one of Xia Liuyi’s personal bodyguards, A-Sen was among the few who knew of this residence. He glanced at the gun in He Chusan’s hand, clutching his own blood-soaked thigh as he limped inside, breathing heavily. “Just a graze—nothing serious. I couldn’t reach you, so I came here. Mr. He, what happened to your head?”
“Just a minor injury,” He Chusan replied. “Come in and sit first.”
As he helped A-Sen onto the sofa, A-Sen glanced toward the bedroom. “Mr. He, I’m glad you’re alright. Where’s Xinxin? Did you get her out?”
“Already sent her home. How did you get hurt like this? What happened?”
A-Sen’s face was heavy with grief. “Something’s gone wrong at the company! Boss Pao turned on us during the meeting—he kidnapped the elders, and Boss Dongdong… he killed her!”
He Chusan jolted in shock. “Sister Dongdong? How is that possible? Are you certain?”
“It’s true,” A-Sen said with a sigh. “I saw it with my own eyes—she was forced to jump from the eighth floor!”
He Chusan clenched his fists. “What about Brother Xiao Ma?”
“We got separated during the gunfight. There’s no news of him yet. Mr. He, Boss Pao is hunting our people everywhere right now. I’ve got nowhere else to go… could I hide here with you for a while?”
“Of course, of course. Lie down first—I’ll take a look at your wound.”
A-Sen’s thigh had been grazed by a bullet. Blood had been lost, but fortunately, no major artery was hit. He Chusan set the gun on the coffee table and began cleaning the wound with the first-aid kit.
“Thank you,” A-Sen said through gritted teeth. “By the way, Mr. He—the situation in the gang is extremely urgent now. Before the Boss was imprisoned, did he leave you with any instructions?”
“Instructions?” He Chusan lowered his head, dabbing iodine, and gave a bitter smile. “Something like—if I cheat, he’ll break my dog legs?”
A-Sen chuckled despite the pain. “Of course not. Did the Boss entrust you with any items? For example, a ledger? Or perhaps… a staff?”
He Chusan lifted his head, his gaze calm. “You mean the account ledger and the Dragon Head Staff?”
A-Sen’s expression darkened. “So Mr. He does know about them.”
He Chusan let out a soft scoff. “Not only do I know—I also know why you came to my place. You were the one who tipped off Da Gao that I went to Wang Fa tonight, told him to rush back and kill me.”
At some point, the gun on the coffee table had found its way into A-Sen’s hand. The black muzzle pointed straight at He Chusan’s chest as A-Sen said coldly, “Mr. He is a smart man. Then I won’t waste words. Hand over the account ledger and the Dragon Head Staff, and I might leave you an intact corpse.”
Facing the gun, He Chusan calmly set down the cotton swab. “A-Sen, you haven’t been in the Xiaoqi Hall long, have you?”
“What’s it to you? Cut the crap!”
“Three years ago, someone said the exact same thing: ‘Hand over the ledger and the Dragon Head Staff, and you’ll get an intact corpse.’ Do you know what became of him? I saw it myself—three blades, six holes, stabbed full of holes like a beehive.”
As he spoke, the bloody memory made him shake his head.
“The gang has never been merciful to traitors. What benefit did Brother Pao offer you, that you’d willingly betray your own Boss?”
A-Sen sneered. “I was Boss Pao’s man from the start—planted beside the Boss. When he rises, I become a Red Pole! But you—what did Xia Liuyi give you? Even with a gun pointed at you, you’re still running your mouth? You rotten-ass faggot—got addicted to sucking dick, have you?”
He Chusan frowned deeply. He truly disliked dealing with these uncouth underworld types. Words like that—filthy beyond measure. How many times would he have to wash his ears to clean them?
He had no interest in continuing. Without another word, he flicked his wrist—pouring the entire bottle of iodine directly onto A-Sen’s wound!
A-Sen let out a howl, his face twisting in agony as he fired three shots at He Chusan in rage!
Click. Click. Click.
He froze—there were no bullets.
He Chusan, who had quietly removed the ammunition earlier while tending the wound, looked up and smiled faintly.
Then he grabbed the glass fruit bowl from the coffee table and smashed it down onto A-Sen’s head!
Thud!
A-Sen cried out and collapsed onto the sofa, but He Chusan leapt on him, raining blow after blow with the fruit bowl! Though caught off guard and bloodied, A-Sen was no weakling like Da Gao. In the struggle, he knocked the bowl aside and seized He Chusan by the throat.
The two grappled from the sofa to the coffee table, then rolled onto the floor, tumbling in a chaotic heap—first-aid kits, vases, cups all crashing to the ground in a cacophony…
Bang—!
The fight ended with a dull crash.
He Chusan panted heavily as he pushed A-Sen’s limp body aside and looked up—
Xinxin stood before him, gripping a floor lamp, fury written across her face. “You bastard! You called Da Gao to kill us?!”
He Chusan clutched his swollen throat, unable to speak. He gestured for her to tie A-Sen up like a rice dumpling, gag him, and dump him in the bathroom—just like before.
He removed the pager from A-Sen’s waist, flipped through it, and found Xiao Ma’s number—but the call still wouldn’t connect. Then he dialed Dongdong’s number.
After two attempts and a long wait, a strange man’s voice finally answered:
“Hello? A-Sen? Where the hell did you go? Why are you calling a dead man’s phone?”
He Chusan slammed the phone down, a chill running down his spine.
A-Sen had no reason to lie about this.
Cui Dongdong… might truly be dead.
Even if she had been distant lately, even if their values differed, he still regarded her as a friend. More importantly—she was Xia Liuyi’s sworn kin. He could hardly imagine how Xia Liuyi would react upon hearing this!
He paced the room several times, his heart aching with confusion.
Brother Liuyi had just been imprisoned—and now this news…
But there was no time to grieve.
If the rebels aimed to eliminate Dongdong and Xiao Ma’s faction, then Dongdong’s lover, Xiao Luo, would surely be implicated. And if A-Sen had thought to search his home for the ledger, others might think of searching Dongdong’s residence as well.
The thought of the delicate Xiao Luo falling into the hands of men like Da Gao made his heart seize.
He could save Xinxin—he could save Xiao Luo too.
Returning to the living room, he pulled on a pair of cleaning gloves, tucked Da Gao’s gun into his waistband, and searched the bedroom. As expected, he found another gun hidden beneath the mattress—having lived in Xia Liuyi’s village house, he knew the man’s habits well.
Xinxin stared wide-eyed. “Brother… there’s a gun under your bed! A gun! Are you really mixed up with a ‘Boss’? And that guy just now said you were—”
No time to explain.
He handed her a gun, showed her how to disengage the safety, and wrote down Xie Jiahua’s number.
“Guard them. Don’t open the door for anyone. If there’s still no news from me by tomorrow morning, go to the phone booth downstairs and call this number.”
He turned and left.
Xinxin chased after him. “Where are you going?”
He paused.
“To save a friend.”
“Friend?”
He thought of Cui Dongdong and let out a long sigh.
“A friend.”
……
Cui Dongdong’s private residence wasn’t far—also in Tsim Sha Tsui, at the top floor of a high-end apartment building. He had only been there once, when Xia Liuyi was first arrested and he came to deliver news.
Xia Liuyi had repeatedly told him to seek refuge here if anything happened.
Yet every time he came, it was to rescue others.
Security in such luxury apartments was usually tight—but the moment he entered the lobby, he sensed something wrong.
The glass doors were ajar. The grand hall stood empty. Papers were scattered before the security room, and a faint, acrid smell lingered in the air.
Broken glass and plastic fragments littered the floor. Following their direction, he looked up—
the surveillance cameras had been smashed.
Gun in hand, he cautiously approached the security room and peeked inside—
then froze.
A pair of stiff legs protruded from behind the desk.
Suppressing the churning in his stomach, he stepped forward, removed a glove, and checked the guard’s breathing.
Still alive—just drugged unconscious.
Both elevators were stuck on the 30th floor.
He cursed inwardly and turned to the stairwell, sprinting up fifteen floors in one go—then stopped, bent over, gasping for breath.
Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself up to the twenty-eighth floor—
this time, he could barely breathe at all.
After resting for a long while, he finally gathered enough strength to climb the last two floors.
The corridor was dark. The elevator entrance had indeed been blocked with debris.
Keeping close to the wall, he moved toward the door at the end.
It was slightly ajar.
Inside—pitch black. The same acrid smell drifted out.
Too late?!
His heart sank.
He pushed the door open—
Suddenly, a shadow shot out like an arrow! His gun hand was twisted and slammed against the wall! Pain shot through him as the weapon fell, and in the next instant, the attacker slipped beneath his shoulder and executed a brutal shoulder throw!
Thud!
He Chusan crashed to the ground, his lungs nearly knocked out of his chest.
The attacker picked up the gun and aimed at him.
Recognizing the figure, he shouted urgently, “It’s me! Xiao Luo!”
She hesitated. “Mr. He? What are you doing here?”
He couldn’t bear to tell her about Dongdong.
“Someone came to my place looking for the ledger. I subdued him. I was worried you might be in danger, so I came to check.”
After a pause, she lowered the gun.
Closing the door behind her, she scowled and unleashed a string of curses:
“What danger could I be in? Who asked you to meddle?! Even if I was in danger, what good would a bookworm like you be? If something happened to you, how would I answer to the Boss? If there’s danger, you should hide and call us—not come here to play hero!”
He Chusan lay there, stunned.
This… was the same gentle, shy, soft-spoken Xiao Luo?
“Why are you spacing out? Since you’re here, help me drag those two pieces of trash to the bathroom. They’re heavy.”
Just as he had guessed, two assassins had come tonight.
One had a slashed calf, the other a broken arm—both wrapped tightly in bedsheets like two French baguettes, mouths stuffed with cloth, writhing on the floor like fish on a chopping board.
Xiao Luo stood by the window in a pale yellow silk nightdress, slender legs exposed. Her doll-like face, sweet and soft, was speckled with blood.
She lit a cigarette, exhaled slowly, her silhouette graceful under the moonlight—
like a mutated, violent little deer spirit.
“Hurry up!” she snapped, glaring at him.
He Chusan swallowed hard, got to his feet—
and obediently went to work.
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