Chapter 37: The Branding Iron

In the cramped rental room, Qian Hao sat shirtless, twisted open a bottle of Erguotou, and gulped down half of it.

As the liquor burned down his throat and spread through his body, the dizziness dulled his pain just enough. Qian Hao picked up a piece of cotton cloth, shoved it into his mouth, and then pulled a glowing red soldering iron from the furnace fire.

He gritted his teeth, intending to press it to his skin, but lacked the final ounce of courage. He downed the rest of the bottle, bit down hard on the towel, and roared with a primal ferocity to embolden himself. Finally, he brought the iron down heavily onto the wound on his shoulder.

*Sizzle!* White smoke rose, and the stench of charred flesh filled the air.

Qian Hao’s already fierce features twisted into a grotesque mask. A guttural, animalistic sound tore from his throat. Sweat erupted from every pore, drenching him as if he had just stepped out of a shower.

The iron clattered to the floor, and Qian Hao collapsed to his knees, spitting out the towel. He gasped for air, his vision swimming as the world spun and blacked out at the edges.

He lay on the floor for half an hour before his strength began to return. Wiping his face with the towel, his eyes were filled with venomous hatred. What had happened today felt like a surreal dream—an experience so vivid, yet so traumatic, that it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Qian Hao had just left the warehouse when a muffled *thud* echoed, followed by a sharp, piercing whistle. He looked up to see a gas canister flying through the sky.

To be precise, it was a crude, makeshift gas canister with tail fins attached, tracing a bizarre parabolic arc toward the warehouse. Then came a second, and a third.

Just as Qian Hao was dismissing the sight, he felt the ground shudder. A muffled boom followed, and when he looked back toward the warehouse, he saw a mushroom cloud billowing into the sky.

It was all so unreal, like a nightmare.

If a box of tissues hadn't been blasted out of the ruins and hit him square in the head, he would have been certain he was dreaming. What he had witnessed was so contrary to common sense, so utterly inconceivable.

If two rival gangs clashed, they would usually settle things with machetes; even if the conflict escalated, they might resort to a few homemade shotguns. The intensity of such a fight would result in broken limbs at most, or, if someone was unlucky, a death due to inadequate medical care.

But Xiao Ziguang had thrown out the rulebook and rained gas canisters down from the sky!

The warehouse was reduced to rubble, and years of accumulated wealth had vanished in an instant. Qian Hao felt as though a hand had gripped his heart; the pain was so profound he could barely breathe.

How deep was the grudge to warrant such a scorched-earth, extermination-style attack? Was there truly no law in Tianhai City?

Qian Hao had snuck back to the warehouse, hoping to salvage something, only to run into Xiao Ziguang.

Xiao Ziguang, who had been chasing him with a hammer, had fired three shots!

Qian Hao dodged two, but while rolling away, he was struck in the shoulder by a ricochet. Fortunately, the bullet hadn't passed through; it was lodged against his shoulder blade.

A massive manhunt was underway in Tianhai, and Qian Hao had missed his window to escape. Staying in the city with a gunshot wound was a death sentence. If he left it too long, he would bleed out; even if the bleeding stopped, the lack of medical treatment would lead to a fatal infection.

Going to a hospital, however, would expose him.

Caught between survival and exposure, Qian Hao chose to trust the old field medic’s advice and perform the barbaric procedure himself. He believed in the cauterization method passed down by the veteran, and now, he had used it on his own body.

As the iron fell, the bleeding had stopped, though the flesh around the wound was scorched raw. Qian Hao glanced at the wound, finally letting out a breath of relief. The crisis was temporarily averted; a burn would not kill him in the short term, whereas an unhealed, bleeding wound certainly would.

The roads in Tianhai could not stay blocked forever. If he could hold out for three to five days, he would be free to fly away like a bird into the vast sky.

...

The Xue family estate was vast, featuring not only east and west wing rooms but also a winding path leading to a serene bamboo pavilion.

Xiao Ziguang sat in the pavilion, not daring to breathe too loudly, projecting an image of being obedient, docile, and submissive.

Xiong Yaohui held a teacup, sitting opposite Xue Ao. "Old Xue, your son-in-law is no simple man. He possesses a ferocity that doesn't belong to the youth of today. I've had a taste of it, and I’m a man of my word—I’ve lost the bet. All of Old Ghost's subordinates now belong to you."

"Xiao Ziguang, I think highly of you. I hope you will carve out a place for yourself in Tianhai."

Xue Ao was blind and his intelligence network was limited. Hearing this, he asked curiously, "Ziguang, you took down Kong Ersheng?"

"Yes, Dad! Kong Ersheng was unlucky. His warehouse was full of flammable and explosive materials, and somehow a fire broke out. A massive explosion sent everyone to the afterlife."

Xiao Ziguang spoke with ease, but to Xue Ao, the words carried a heavy weight. This wasn't just ferocity—it was an aura of unbridled murder.

"Old Xiong, cleaning up after a mess this big won't be easy, will it?"

Xiong Yaohui scrutinized Xue Ao. He knew his former classmate well—a man who feared nothing and no one. Yet, for the first time ever, he saw genuine apprehension on Xue Ao’s face.

"This was just an accident. The suspect behind it is already on the wanted list. As soon as his trail is found, he will be apprehended..."

Xiao Ziguang quickly interjected, "If he resists arrest or uses violence during the capture, we are authorized to neutralize him on the spot, making this a closed case."

"A closed case is good, a closed case is good!" Xue Ao repeated twice, unconsciously, before suppressing his agitation. He said sincerely to Xiong Yaohui, "The young people of today are far more ruthless than we were back then!"

"The waves behind the Yangtze River push those in front; each generation surpasses the last!" Xiong Yaohui looked at Xiao Ziguang with approval, admiring him more with every passing second.

"Old Xue, I have an idea, though I'm not sure if I should voice it." Fearing Xue Ao might refuse, Xiong Yaohui continued on his own: "There are simply too many operators in the criminal underworld of Tianhai. Now that Xiling Trade has been wiped out, who’s to say a Beiling or Dongling Trade won't pop up next?"

"Since your son-in-law has the capability and has taken over Old Ghost's influence—and happens to be an undercover agent to boot—could we take this opportunity to consolidate the entire underworld of Tianhai? We could sink anyone who doesn't listen to the bottom of the pond to feed the fish!"

Xue Ao’s voice was low. "Old Xiong, your appetite is not small."

"I’ve grown accustomed to being dominant. I don't like those stray dogs and cats acting like court jesters, popping up to disgust me. Since Xiao Ziguang has the ability and we have the opportunity to take it all for ourselves, why should we be modest?"

"There are too many voices in Tianhai, and they are too messy. I don't like it! If we can monopolize Tianhai, why shouldn't we make our move?"

Xue Ao neither nodded nor shook his head. He silently raised his teacup, took a small sip, and said quietly, "The matter is too big. Let me think about it."

"This is work for the young. I also need to discuss it with Ziguang. Let's let this rest for a few days."

Xiong Yaohui knew he couldn't rush it, so he nodded and said, "Then I shall wait for your good news!"

Xiao Ziguang kept his head bowed, silent. He was weighing the gains and losses, calculating exactly how much opportunity was hidden within the danger.