Chapter Twenty-One: Long Xiaoman

Yang Jiekai shrugged at the burly men sprawled haphazardly on the ground and smiled, “Go back and tell He Yuan that if he wants revenge, he should bring a few decent fighters next time. At least give me a proper workout.”

The leader among the men on the ground gritted his teeth and struggled to his feet, glaring venomously at Yang Jiekai.

“What now, haven’t had enough?” Yang Jiekai asked with a mocking smile.

The man kept his eyes on Yang Jiekai, but he had no intention of charging again. The brief exchange earlier had made it clear—he’d run into a real tough one this time, and no matter how many times he tried, it would be futile.

“Brother, today I, Luo Wu, admit defeat. Until we meet again!” the man spat out, then picked up a steel pipe from the ground. Suddenly, with a harsh shout and without hesitation, he smashed it down onto his own arm!

A dull thud echoed, followed by a sickening snap. Sweat broke out instantly on his forehead from the pain, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t utter a single groan.

“What are you doing?” Yang Jiekai froze, completely at a loss for what was happening. He wondered if he’d knocked something loose in the man’s head—why was he resorting to self-mutilation?

“Someone paid for one of your arms and legs. Our Dragon Hall took the job. Since we failed to do it, we’ll break an arm and a leg ourselves. It’s our code!” the man declared as he raised the steel pipe again, preparing to bring it down on his own leg.

Dragon Hall?

Yang Jiekai blinked, the name stirring a vague memory. Suddenly he realized and quickly kicked the man’s wrist just as he was about to strike, sending the pipe flying.

“Brother, I admit you’re strong, but please don’t interfere with our rules!” the man protested, picking up another pipe, determined to continue.

Yang Jiekai found himself helpless in the face of such stubbornness. He quickly asked, “Is your boss named Long Xiaoman?”

The man paused, his action halted, and eyed Yang Jiekai in surprise. “How do you know?”

Yang Jiekai chuckled, thinking to himself how fate brings adversaries together after all.

“Wait here!” he threw over his shoulder, then stepped aside and dialed the number Long Xiaoman had once given him. After a brief exchange, he handed the phone to the man.

“Yes, understood, okay, Sister Long!” the man replied, handing the phone back to Yang Jiekai with a respectful bow. “Brother, I, Luo Wu, owe you a debt for this. From today, I owe you a leg.”

With that, he quickly gathered his men and left.

Interesting, Yang Jiekai mused, watching their departing figures. The way they acted, it was as if Long Xiaoman was some kind of goddess to them. He found it hard to imagine what kind of influence that female thief wielded to command such obedience. His curiosity about Long Xiaoman only deepened.

Meanwhile, Wang Xiang and his companions stood frozen in terror, the arrogance they’d shown earlier completely evaporated.

Yang Jiekai turned to Wang Xiang with a playful look. “Now that they’re gone, it’s your turn. What was it you were saying just now? Oh, right, you wanted to fight me, didn’t you?”

Wang Xiang swallowed hard, fear clearly etched on his face, but still stiffened his neck and shouted, “I want to fight you one-on-one!”

“Oh?” Yang Jiekai’s curiosity was piqued by this boy named Wang Xiang, and he couldn’t help but admire him inwardly. He could see the fear in the boy’s eyes, but he refused to back down.

“All right, I’ll entertain you. I’ll use just one hand. If you manage to land a punch or a kick on me, I’ll admit defeat,” Yang Jiekai replied. He was bored anyway and decided to amuse himself with this stubborn youth.

Wang Xiang took a deep breath, then shouted and charged at Yang Jiekai.

The outcome was obvious. Before Wang Xiang could get close, Yang Jiekai sent him flying with a simple, straight punch—no frills, just efficiency.

The boy felt as if his chest had been struck by a sledgehammer, but he gritted his teeth, got up, and attacked again.

And again, he was sent flying. And again, he climbed to his feet…

By the sixth time the boy got up, Yang Jiekai found himself growing fond of this unyielding spirit. He’d only been using a fraction of his strength; anyone else would have stayed down long ago. It was sheer stubbornness keeping this boy going.

“All right, if we keep this up, you’re going to lose your life here,” Yang Jiekai said, catching the boy’s wrist with his last blow and pulling him forward. The boy stumbled and went sprawling to the ground.

“Not bad—you’ve got the makings of a martial artist. Train hard for a few years and maybe I won’t be your match,” Yang Jiekai said, shaking out his arm. Then, pointing at Lin Wen, who had been rendered speechless nearby, he declared, “Remember, from today on, she’s my girlfriend. If any of you so much as think of bothering her again, you won’t get off as lightly as you did today!”

He said this to protect the girl, Lin Wen, worried that these spoiled brats might come back to trouble her later on.

“So your name is Yang Jiekai, right? I’ll remember you!” Wang Xiang shot Yang Jiekai a fierce glare before storming off with his petrified friends.

Yang Jiekai turned to Lin Wen, shrugged, and gave her a helpless look. “You should head back now. I’ll buy all this beer.”

Lin Wen snapped out of her daze and hastened to apologize. “Brother Yang, I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t know…”

“Forget it. No need for that,” Yang Jiekai cut her off. “They won’t bother you again.”

Having seen life and death on the battlefield, Yang Jiekai wasn’t fond of apologies. He found them unnecessary. Back in the army, even if someone saved your life, apologies were rare. When it truly mattered, you’d take a bullet for a comrade without a word.

Words were a waste of breath compared to that.

“Brother Yang, let me treat you to dinner!” Lin Wen offered, feeling genuinely guilty, even if Yang Jiekai hadn’t suffered because of her.

“That’s not necessary,” Yang Jiekai replied, rolling his neck. “Just focus on your studies, and if anyone ever bothers you again, call me.”

“Okay, but give me your number,” Lin Wen said with a sweet smile. “I’m Lin Wen. I’ll call you Brother Yang from now on.”

With these troubles resolved, Yang Jiekai leisurely prepared to head home.

Just then, his phone rang. To his surprise, it was Long Xiaoman.

Yang Jiekai chuckled bitterly as he answered, “What’s this, Queen Long? Your men couldn’t finish the job, so you’re coming to do it yourself?”

“Cut the crap!” came Long Xiaoman’s crisp reply. “I’m waiting for you at the Dragon Palace Bar. Come right now—I won’t take no for an answer!” She hung up before he could refuse.

Yang Jiekai could only shake his head with a wry smile. It was still early, and he had nothing better to do, so he hailed a cab straight to the Dragon Palace Bar.

Long Xiaoman was waiting in a booth, dressed in a tight red dress, swirling a glass of red wine. He had to admit she was a stunning beauty, almost unreal.

They say a pretty face is a passport to anywhere, and it was true. Otherwise, why would he drag himself out at night to meet a woman he’d only crossed paths with once—a thief, no less?

“This bar is under my protection. Drink whatever you want. If you fancy a girl, just say the word—I’ll tie her up and deliver her to your bed,” Long Xiaoman said matter-of-factly.

“And what if I fancy you?” Yang Jiekai teased.

Long Xiaoman sipped her wine. “I’ve already booked a hotel room. From this moment on, you’re my boyfriend. But whether I fall for you completely depends on how you perform in bed. Don’t expect me to be easy to please.”

“Hey, I’m a married man, you know,” Yang Jiekai replied, genuinely amused by her straightforwardness.

“That’s your business. I, Long Xiaoman, have set my sights on you. I don’t care how many wives or lovers you have—you’re still my man.”

Yang Jiekai could only shrug, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Who exactly are you, anyway? One minute you’re a thief, next you’re running cons, then you’re the head of some gang, and now you run a bar?”

Long Xiaoman drained her glass and said, “I’m just a starving she-wolf. Wherever there’s food, that’s where I go. If anyone tries to take it from me, I’ll fight them to the death.”

“Why not get a regular job? Why the underworld?” Yang Jiekai asked, genuinely puzzled. With her looks, finding a decent job should have been easy.

Long Xiaoman laughed softly and poured herself another drink. “I was born with nothing—no parents, no family. While other kids were in kindergarten, I was begging and wandering the streets. While they learned piano and dance, I was fighting stray dogs for scraps.”

“At first I resented it. I thought the world was unfair. But then I realized, maybe this is just my fate. Since heaven dealt me this hand, I can’t just sit around. The sunny road isn’t for me, so I’ll walk my own narrow bridge. Anyone who blocks my way, I’ll cut them down.”

Listening to her story, Yang Jiekai felt a pang of empathy. In many ways, her life mirrored his own. No one is born wanting to live on the edge, or in a hail of bullets on the battlefield. But fate deals its cards, and you play the hand you’re given.

“Here, a toast to you,” Yang Jiekai said, clinking his glass with hers and downing his drink. “Talking to you is a pleasure. I’ll come by for a drink and a chat whenever I’m free. But it’s getting late tonight, I should be going.”

Just then, someone burst into the private room, panting and breathless. “Bad news, Sister Long! Wu Paozi’s men are here to cause trouble!”