Inside the dim warehouse, Chen Xingzhou sat in a high-backed armchair, looking as sickly as ever, his face sallow. Putting down the phone, he looked up at the Celestial Chosen suspended in midair by iron chains, clinging to his last breath.
He gave an indifferent wave of his hand.
"Biting the hand that feeds you, trading honor for profit, colluding with outsiders, framing your own brothers."
He said, "By the rules: three blades, six punctures, your name struck from the rolls beneath the sea. From this day forward, you have nothing more to do with the syndicate. Whether you live or die depends on heaven and your luck.
"Pity, after all these years of friendship."
Hanging from the chains, the Celestial Chosen struggled violently, eyes bulging, whimpering frantically, unable to force out a single word.
The executioner silently drew a long blade webbed with writhing crimson veins, stepped forward, seized the chains, and dragged the condemned man away. Faint wails echoed briefly, until soon nothing remained but the steady drip of water.
"All right, get back to what you should be doing."
Chen Xingzhou waved his hand without enthusiasm. Only after the others had cleared out did he pick up the receiver again and ask bluntly, "The trouble with Thousand Islands?"
"Since you already know, Dragon Head, why bother asking?"
"It has nothing to do with me,"
Chen Xingzhou stated flatly. "We don't interact often, but you and Yubo are such close friends. You were willing to bring him in on your recent ventures—I can hardly thank you enough.
"As Dragon Head, I want Yacheng to prosper too. The better Yacheng does, the more I earn. In this matter, whether for public business or personal ties, I have no reason to stand in your way."
"I know," Ji Jue replied with a nod.
If Chen Xingzhou had intended to abandon ship, he would never have allowed his younger brother to get involved with Haian in the first place.
What was more, the Haian shares in Ji Jue's hands had been gifted to his teacher, Ye Xian, by Chen Xingzhou himself. There were too many backroom dealings and exchanges of interest behind that move; Chen Xingzhou had placed his bets long before becoming Dragon Head.
"The Thousand Islands crowd stepped out of line this time."
Chen Xingzhou didn't dodge or speak in bureaucratic platitudes. He came straight to the point: "In Yacheng today, as Dragon Head, it falls naturally to me to take charge. But the crux right now is: how do you want to handle it?"
"What are my options?" Ji Jue asked.
"Two ways,"
Chen Xingzhou said. "First, as Dragon Head, I'll force that crossing dragon to spit out the shipment, make him apologize, pour you a drink, slice off his fingers, and gouge out his heart.
"If the ox won't drink, we force its head under water.
"Dragon or tiger, in Yacheng, they answer to me!
"However, if he doesn't accept it, there will definitely be trouble down the road. From then on, life and death belong to fate, wealth to heaven. When the time comes, we'll see who stands tall and who ends up dead."
Just like that, he laid the fuse of a Wild Gathering civil war casually before Ji Jue, adding, "When that day comes, humble as I am, I won't stand idly by."
For one branch of the Wild Gathering to clash with another was entirely natural. They all worked in the shadows, took the crooked paths and dark roads, and paid homage to the White Stag. Mutual slaughter was second nature.
Money was money—why should you get to make it?
Why couldn't I?
The Wild Gathering was born of the wilderness. Even the Chiefs couldn't be bothered with petty squabbles until things completely spiraled out of control. Survival of the fittest was the true path of the White Stag anyway; if you could carve your way out with style and skill, the Chiefs would only be delighted.
"And the second option?" Ji Jue asked.
"Talk it out,"
Chen Xingzhou said. "Business is about making money. If we can reach an agreement, everything's easy. I'll host. We'll sit down for tea and a drink, lay everything out on the table, and that'll be the end of it."
Ji Jue fell silent for a moment. Chen Xingzhou's tone was so matter-of-fact, yet so grave, that he couldn't tell if the man was joking. "Does that actually work?"
"Those are the rules,"
Chen Xingzhou replied, serious as ever. "A Wild Gathering peace banquet is meant to spill less blood.
"Grievances and grudges, all washed away in a cup of wine. Once you're at the table, it doesn't matter how ugly the words get. If the talk breaks down, the worst you do is pour out the liquor, flip the table, and walk away—then kill who needs killing, fight who needs fighting.
"Except—if terms are settled, anyone who dares renege afterward slaps everyone in the face."
You could refuse to drink the Wild Gathering's wine. But once you drank it, no one dared go back on what was agreed.
Otherwise, you could be slaughtered in broad daylight, and no one would lift a finger!
That was the Wild Gathering's true function—arbitrating disputes, balancing the ecosystem, keeping the wilderness markets running, and preventing them from tearing themselves apart in pointless infighting.
The two choices Chen Xingzhou offered were both the best possible paths right now.
Yet both left things unsaid.
Certain meanings only needed a hint; there was no need to spell them out completely.
A clever man understood. If Ji Jue were truly too thick to get it, such a liability of an ally deserved whatever came to him.
Between the two options, the first had Chen Xingzhou step forward as Dragon Head, personally taking the field to hack down the crossing dragon. If the situation escalated, he would stake his life and fortune on the line, backing Ji Jue all the way, even in a gang war against the southern dragon heads of Thousand Islands!
However, after the Wild Gathering paid such a steep price, with brothers bleeding and dying on your behalf, you couldn't just walk away with a casual 'thank you,' could you? When it came time to carve up the meat, shouldn't he get an extra slice?
The second option meant the Wild Gathering acted as guarantor. Chen Xingzhou, as Dragon Head, would set a dedicated table for Ji Jue's matter, bringing out the brothers and elders to see justice done.
Only, when the great scales were set down, both sides would be weighed by their true measure.
You could choose not to negotiate, and you could choose not to drink. But once you negotiated, you had to honor it; once the cup was drained, even if Chen Xingzhou wanted to play favorites, his hands would be tied.
"In all honesty, I'd prefer you take the first. But as Yubo's older brother, I advise you to think it through carefully. They might be waiting for you to do just that."
In the brief silence, Chen Xingzhou spoke first, offering an assurance: "Actually, you don't have to choose either. Give me two days. I guarantee I'll bring you a satisfactory resolution. How about it?"
That was undeniably the best choice for Ji Jue, without exception.
Whether out of past favors or his brother's connection, Chen Xingzhou never treated Ji Jue as an outsider.
The rebuilding of Haian Group concerned the whole of Yacheng, and he had a stake in it too. With Gray Port reaching its hands into his territory, if he swallowed this insult, he might as well crawl into a shell and step down as Dragon Head.
Besides, his own brother had been attacked over this. As Dragon Head, how could he not make a statement?
If he promised a resolution, there would be one.
If he promised to satisfy Ji Jue, Ji Jue would be satisfied.
Yet Ji Jue refused to be satisfied.
He asked, "What if I can't wait?"
That batch of components didn't matter at all to Ji Jue. What did Haian's petty debts have to do with him, an acting plant manager who had only stepped in to take the heat?
To put it bluntly, even if Haian Group went under tomorrow, Ji Jue could dust off his hands and walk away. Who would dare touch him?
Yan Jian couldn't.
As the sole remaining veteran employee of Haian Auto Works, he was irreplaceable—not just for his skills as a first-class engineer, but for their mutual trust and teamwork...
Over the past few months, Yan Jian had worked himself half to death, pouring out blood and sweat, doing everything short of selling his own body, sacrificing everything for a job he could have walked away from long ago.
All for Ji Jue's casual promise of 'resuming production,' the man had wagered the rest of his life.
Now, because of him, Yan Jian was being held hostage. Could Ji Jue really leave him to his fate?
"Mr. Chen, Yan Jian is my friend. Just like Yubo."
Chen Xingzhou fell silent, letting out a helpless sigh.
What could he say?
That those who achieve great things don't sweat the small stuff? That for the sake of the grand scheme, a nobody could simply be discarded? Before opening his mouth, he couldn't forget how his own brother had survived!
He said, "Whichever you choose, I've got your back."
"Then we talk,"
Ji Jue said. "He wants an explanation, doesn't he? We'll give him one. After all, everyone does business to make a profit—why make things so ugly?
"Conveniently, I'm looking for someone to talk to right now anyway."
"...Quite the heroic spirit. Impressive."
Chen Xingzhou pondered for a few seconds before offering one final promise: "Whether the talk goes through or not, I'm seeing this hand through to the end."
"It won't get in your way,"
Ji Jue said at last. "You do your part, I'll do mine."
The call disconnected.
In the silence, Chen Xingzhou lowered his eyes and stared at the dark screen, turning the phone silently between his fingers.
After a long while.
"Uncle Lin."
A hazy figure emerged from the darkness behind him. "Boss, I'm here."
"Contact headquarters on my behalf."
Chen Xingzhou tapped the armrest intermittently, speaking slowly: "I want to petition for the Chief's seat of arbitration."
Uncle Lin paused in surprise.
Then he nodded, turned, and withdrew.
"Talk?"
Ten minutes later, when Ling Zhou took Chen Xingzhou's call, he laughed out loud. "Who is he, and who am I? A miserable craftsman—what does he have to negotiate with me?!"
"Then do you want to talk with me instead?" The voice on the phone carried a faint chuckle. "Rules are rules, Little Ling. For some things, it's safer to consult your godfather first."
"What? Trying to press me with Sixth Lord?" Ling Zhou asked coldly.
"As an elder, I'm giving you a warning. I'm afraid the hornet's nest you stirred up is too big for Ling Liu to cover for you," Chen Xingzhou said impassively. "Don't forget where you are. Whether we talk or fight isn't your call to make."
The call hung up.
Inside the dead-silent room, smoke curled heavily.
Ling Zhou's face was livid, his grip nearly crushing the phone.
Among his subordinates, an older man cautioned, "Brother Zhou, watch out for a trap."
"If Chen Xingzhou has the nerve to roll out the Wild Gathering's grand display, you think I'd dare back down?"
Ling Zhou's expression shifted before settling into icy resolve. "Didn't he want to talk? It's not like I haven't done it before. Tell Chen Xingzhou: if we're talking, I pick the place!
"My turf, my people. I'd like to see what he has to talk with!"
Three minutes later, Ji Jue received a message from Chen Xingzhou.
*10:30 PM, Yacheng East Port, the freighter Tianbo.*
After glancing at it, Ji Jue tossed the phone aside, turned back, and fixed his gaze upon the silent Crucible before him.
The flames within surged noiselessly, shifting through colors. Fed by Ji Jue's blood, crimson and silver interlaced. The creation, purified and transmuted for over a month, warped amid faint, agonizing wails, gradually taking on an eerie, menacing contour.
Feral malice coiled within.
"Just right,"
Ji Jue murmured. "Still short a few materials."
Chapter 335