SA 17.2

Forcing Ye Jingsheng to betray Hongyun was clearly impossible. Fine, then. Zhong Qinglin didn’t mind being ruthless. He wasn’t leaving Hong Kong. This city was his foundation, his roots. But leaving Ye Jingsheng alive was a ticking time bomb. If he had the guts to come here, then he should’ve been prepared to never walk out.

“Fine.”

“You’d spare me? Aren’t you afraid Fang Yang will kill you when he returns?”

“That’s my business,” Ye Jingsheng replied, lifting his chin defiantly. “But first, let me see Ye Ling. And don’t touch Wu Yixue.”

Zhong Qinglin smirked, an expression laced with either mockery or disbelief. He clapped his hands, and soon, Ye Ling was wheeled out in a chair, with Wu Yixue closely following behind.

The moment Ye Jingsheng laid eyes on Ye Ling, he knew something was wrong.

Ye Ling slumped limply in the wheelchair, his head lolling to one side, eyes tightly shut. It was clear he’d been drugged.

“Wu Yixue! You betrayed me!!” Ye Jingsheng exploded, fury radiating from every pore. He kicked the table in front of him and leapt to his feet. “I treated you as a friend, and this is how you repay me? You fucking bastard—are you even human?!”

Wu Yixue flinched, retreating behind Zhong Qinglin, his face pale with fear. Zhong Qinglin, however, laughed triumphantly. “Ye Jingsheng, in this world, there’s no such thing as true loyalty. Anything can be bought—money, power, you name it. He wanted to be a director, wanted money, and I gave it to him. As for your trust in him? It’s worth jack shit!!”

Ye Jingsheng’s eyes burned with a murderous intensity that made Wu Yixue’s knees tremble. Deep down, Wu Yixue knew he’d once genuinely considered Ye Jingsheng a friend. But what had Ye Jingsheng ever truly given him? Time and again, he’d been dragged into dangerous situations without any tangible benefit. He’d had enough. Zhong Qinglin, on the other hand, could offer him everything he wanted. Why shouldn’t he sell out Ye Ling? After all, people are selfish by nature. He wasn’t wrong!

Or so he tried to convince himself as he avoided Ye Jingsheng’s gaze, which now seemed more lethal than any weapon.

“I gave him a light dose of the latest synthetic heroin—don’t look at me like that. Wu Yixue’s skill is top-notch; he won’t feel a thing. Just be careful, though he might get addicted, hehe.”

Ye Jingsheng let out a furious roar, charging forward, but in that split second, six German-made K-Style submachine guns were aimed directly at him.

Before Zhong Qinglin could say anything, one of his men hurriedly handed him a mobile phone, his face full of panic.

Ye Jingsheng, a man who had long known today might be a life-or-death situation, had made his own preparations. The moment he saw Zhong Qinglin’s face change, he sprang into action, leaping forward and knocking two of Ye Ling’s bodyguards aside with a powerful kick. He grabbed Ye Ling, pulling him into his arms. Wu Yixue screamed, running around in panic, but before Ye Jingsheng could chase after him, a barrage of bullets tore through the air toward him.

Ye Jingsheng had no choice but to dodge sideways, clutching Ye Ling and rolling toward the wall. The pressure on his body was suffocating. Even in his unconscious state, Ye Ling gagged, struggling to breathe.

“Shoot him! Damn it!” Zhong Qinglin’s voice was filled with rage. “Ye Jingsheng, you little bastard! Playing me like this? You talk about negotiations while you’re out there stripping my base?! Do you have any idea how many of my brothers have died in the last half hour, huh? I swear to god, I’ll kill you myself!”

Ye Jingsheng froze in shock. Impossible… He had given the order not to fire. Who would dare disobey him?

A terrifying thought hit him. Had someone planned this from the start? Were they using him to divert Zhong Qinglin’s attention while they wiped out his entire crew… even at the cost of his own life?

Who could it be? Who had enough power to bypass his orders and command hundreds of people within Hongyun?

The darkness flooded over him like encroaching sea water, soaking every part of his body. A chill ran through him, colder than death itself.

But there was no time for hesitation. Ye Ling had to live. He had to live too. He needed to face the person responsible and ask one simple question. Why?

Gunfire erupted around him. The center of the warehouse was a large open area, and with the full force of the enemy’s firepower focused on him, survival seemed impossible. His only hope was the stack of discarded shipping containers piled in the corner. He pressed himself against the containers, slowly pulling out the “King Cobra” handgun. He dared not fire yet, fearing it would give away his position. The weight of the gun felt as though it could crush him.

Ye Jingsheng clenched his teeth, his fingers tightening around Ye Ling’s hand. You have to survive. No matter what.

The gunfire grew more intense, and the assassins spread out, slowly closing in on his position.

Ye Jingsheng held his breath.

Shit! The shadow!

In the blink of an eye, both he and the enemy almost simultaneously fired. Ye Jingsheng didn’t retaliate; instead, he fired a single shot into the sky, shattering the overhead light in the warehouse. The bulb exploded with a deafening crash, and in an instant, the entire warehouse was swallowed by darkness. Shouts, curses, and screams erupted as chaos spread. Zhong Qinglin roared, furious and desperate, “If you let him go, you’re all dead!”

Who doesn’t want to survive? Even those cold-blooded killers who’ve seen death a thousand times over. The gunfire grew fiercer, mingled with the agonized screams of those who were hit by friendly fire.

Ye Jingsheng didn’t rush to fire back. He was like a cornered animal, prepared for a final, desperate fight. His shots only hit those who came too close—people within range. He couldn’t afford to waste any more ammunition.

Blood, death, and the stench of decay filled the air in this massacre.

Escape. Only escape could offer a sliver of survival.

But as the dawn broke, Ye Jingsheng realized that his only advantage over the killer squad was his deeper familiarity with the darkness.

Once the light came, all that awaited him was death.

Another body fell next to him. He yanked the weapon from the dead man’s hands, a surge of relief flooding through him. It was a submachine gun. But the man wasn’t completely dead. In the dim light, Ye Jingsheng saw the man’s face and could hear him about to scream. Ye Jingsheng lunged forward, driving a Swiss army knife into his throat. The blade pierced through, emerging from the back of his neck before any blood could even spill.

This was the game of death. There was no mercy. Only survival.

Another round of bullets hit the floor near his feet. Jingsheng glanced back at Ye Ling, still unconscious, gritting his teeth. He made the decision. He would draw the enemies away himself.

He rolled toward the corner of the wall where another group was waiting. Before they could fire, he snapped one of their necks with a brutal twist. Then, gripping his gun, he unleashed a storm of bullets, sending all the enemies his way. The gunfire from the submachine gun lit up the space like a deadly web, cutting through the air in all directions.

He could only feel the cold steel of the gun in his hand and the death that followed each shot.

The light grew brighter, and in the morning glow, he spotted the man cowering and trying to escape. A surge of rage erupted from deep within him. He darted out from his cover, shouting, “Wu Yixue!”

Everyone turned to look, all of them raising their guns in unison. Ye Jingsheng didn’t hesitate, charging toward Wu Yixue, who was trembling in fear, his legs giving out beneath him as he collapsed to the ground. Ye Jingsheng raised his handgun, aiming it directly at Wu Yixue’s forehead.

A deafening shot rang out, the bullet tearing through the man’s skull with a sickening crack. Blood and brain matter exploded from the impact, splattering all over Ye Jingsheng’s face and head. He was immediately soaked, transformed into a blood-drenched figure. The skull was nearly torn open, the red and white insides mixing together in a grotesque mess.

The sight was so horrific that everyone froze in place, stunned by the hellish scene. None of them dared move a muscle until one man, snapping out of his shock, aimed his gun at Ye Jingsheng. But before he could pull the trigger, another shot rang out, and he dropped to the floor, a lifeless heap.

Ye Jingsheng turned, recognizing a familiar figure as Xiao Jue leaped into view. Ye Jingsheng opened his mouth, ready to curse, but Xiao Jue cut him off, his voice harsh and urgent. “I’m in now. If you want me to stay alive, take me with you!”

Why the hell would Xiao Jie come to die with him in this situation? Ye Jingsheng didn’t have time to protest as the gunfire grew even more intense.

They backed away, Xiao Jie lifting Ye Ling to carry him. Ye Jingsheng told him to fall back first while he covered them from behind. They fought as they retreated, firing countless rounds, the gun now slick with blood and grime.

Finally, they broke free from the warehouse, the first light of dawn breaking over them. But the enemy didn’t stop, they were still in pursuit, not willing to let them escape.

“Get to the corner first! Jie-zai, I’m asking you for just one thing in this life. Protect Ye Ling, get him out of here!”

A terrible, unspoken premonition gripped Xiao Jie’s heart, like a final farewell. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Ye Jingsheng turned and walked away, decisively leaving them behind.

There were still eighteen men chasing him. He shook his hand, smirking coldly. No one could kill him. The only one who could lead him to his death was himself.

He slowly raised his hand. Eighteen men, and he was worth it!

Gunfire erupted, endless, relentless.

Until he pressed the trigger, only the hollow sound of empty shells echoed in rapid succession. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man on his left raising his submachine gun again.

There was no escape, no way to avoid it.

The gunfire rang out seven more times. Yet he didn’t fall. He stood frozen, motionless, only managing to hold on to the still-warm body in his arms. He felt as though his soul was about to leave his body. Heaven laughed coldly, watching the most tragic farce of his life unfold.

“Hua Xiao Jie!!! Why didn’t you listen to me?! Why didn’t you leave first?!”

Xiao Jie’s grip on his sleeve tightened, and he whispered softly, “Ye Ling… he’s fine… I hid him…”

“I mean you, Hua Xiao Jie!! Why did you come out?!”

Ye Jingsheng had never shed a tear in the midst of bloodshed, but in this moment, his eyes flooded with tears.

Xioa Jie’s chest was riddled with seven bullet wounds, blood pouring out uncontrollably. Ye Jingsheng held him tight, but no matter how hard he tried, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

“Chen Chen… he’s not simple… I’ve been following him for a long time, he’s been pretending, Ah Sheng… stay away from him… this… this whole thing, he planned it all… really…”

Ye Jingsheng kissed his lips desperately, the blood mixing with Xiao Jie’s labored coughs. “Hua Xiao Jie, you can’t die. I was wrong, I should’ve listened to you… Jie-zai, I was wrong, come back!!”

He had met Ye Jingsheng at the orphanage years ago. Now, almost twenty years had passed, a fleeting moment in time. From their first meeting to their final farewell, Ye Jingsheng was his catastrophe, his doom.

He was the most afraid of death, but this time, he had no regrets.

“One last thing, Ah Sheng… can you take me to… Switzerland… to see the windmills?”

Xiao Jie’s weak smile was bittersweet, his fingers clutching the fabric of Ye Jingsheng’s clothes, tightening with longing, reluctance, regret, despair… and hope.

Ye Jingsheng cried out in desperation, his voice breaking, “I promise you… even if there’s no windmills, I’ll make one for you. Every day, I’ll be by your side to watch it. In this life, I only have one true friend…”

In his ears, it seemed as though the shrill sound of sirens, panicked voices, and scattered gunshots filled the air. The chaos, so many people coming and going, but he didn’t care anymore. The man stood before him and waved his hand, signaling his subordinates to stop interfering.

Ye Jingsheng pressed his blood-stained face against the man’s cheek.

I still want to hear you curse me one more Jie-zai…

But no one answered him anymore. In this world, there would never be anyone who would curse him the way Xiao Jie had.

“Jingsheng, I told you, the people from Hongyun can’t be trusted. The only one who can save you is me.” Pei Jun crouched down, looking into his eyes, speaking every word clearly, “Come back, Ah Sheng.”

Ye Jingsheng suddenly threw his head back and howled to the sky.

“Fang Yang, Chen Chen, can you live with what you’ve done to me!!!!”