Chapter Fifty: The Greater Good of the Martial World

Lin Shengnan’s cheeks burned red as fire. She shot Liu Jingye a glare, blaming him for going off script—how had the conversation muddled its way to dowries? Now it sounded as though she were volunteering to hand over her dowry to him, as if she were offering herself up.

Liu Jingye said nothing, genuinely wary of provoking a woman further.

A silence settled between them, strange and uncomfortable. To avoid embarrassment, Lin Shengnan turned on the television. Yet at this hour, every drama was about romance: the leads kissed and nibbled at each other without restraint. Even a variety show turned out to be a matchmaking program, with a bald host surrounded by twenty or so women posing seductively, like a rooster leading his flock of hens to solicit customers.

Watching such shows only heightened the ambiguous tension.

In the end, Lin Shengnan settled for a nature documentary. The deep, magnetic voice of Mr. Zhao rang out: “With spring merging into summer, it is once again mating season for the animals…”

Both Liu Jingye and Lin Shengnan felt a surge of exasperation. What was all this insinuating?

Fortunately, the program soon shifted to the great migration of animals: hundreds of thousands of wildebeest, zebra, and other grazing wildlife formed a mighty army, embarking on a journey of thousands of kilometers in search of water and sustenance, pursuing survival.

Lin Shengnan watched intently, moved by the spectacle. “This might be the grandest migration in the natural world.”

“What’s so grand about that?” Liu Jingye scoffed, cigarette dangling from his lips.

Lin Shengnan took him seriously. “How is it not grand? Millions of animals traversing thousands of kilometers—it’s magnificent, unique, and awe-inspiring.”

“There’s a migration even more spectacular, with billions involved—vast and overwhelming,” Liu Jingye replied, his tone mysterious.

“Impossible,” Lin Shengnan countered.

With a cryptic smile, Liu Jingye uttered, “Spring travel.”

Lin Shengnan nearly collapsed beneath the table, yet had to admit: spring travel was indeed nature’s greatest migration—immense and unparalleled.

“You really know how to twist things,” Lin Shengnan said with a bitter smile.

Liu Jingye merely smiled in response, while Lin Shengnan looked as though she had more to say. At that moment, Erniu came rushing downstairs, clutching a phone, with others following close behind.

Both quickly composed themselves, adopting the formal demeanor of strangers meeting for a blind date.

“Big brother, big sister, Huang Weiwei just called,” Erniu declared, holding his phone as if it were a hot potato.

“She’s come to give you money, so pick up,” Liu Jingye said with a smile.

Everyone held their breath. Erniu answered the call. On the other end, Huang Weiwei was remarkably straightforward, cutting right to the chase: “Give me your account number and I’ll transfer the money now.”

Erniu and the others were instantly elated, but Huang Weiwei wasn’t finished: “What about the evidence you’re holding? How can I be sure you won’t keep extorting me?”

“Don’t worry, Miss Huang. Thieves have their code—we only seek money,” Erniu replied excitedly.

“You’d better keep your word,” Huang Weiwei said coldly. “This money was just borrowed from Imperial Court; I trust you know what kind of entity that is. This time I’ll take the loss, so long as you stay silent. I won’t trouble you further. Otherwise, it’ll be mutual destruction.”

Erniu quickly agreed, then sent Huang Weiwei the account numbers for all five people. Millions arrived in their accounts almost instantly—a fortune most could never earn in a lifetime. They were wild with joy.

As they prepared to celebrate, the television suddenly showed the beautiful face of Chen Yuxin. The station interrupted with a special news report: a large, black-bordered photo appeared in the upper left corner. Chen Yuxin spoke in a solemn voice.

“Yesterday, during a thunderbolt anti-drug operation, a courageous police officer was attacked by vicious criminals during an arrest and tragically lost his life. He died heroically, only thirty-seven years old.”

Everyone instinctively turned to the television. When they saw the memorial photo, Daniu and Shitou froze, then cried out in horror, “It’s him, it’s him!”

“What? You know him?” Erniu asked, surprised. He had spent yesterday monitoring Huang Weiwei and hadn’t participated in the final act. Seeing the pale faces around him, he was baffled.

“Isn’t that the corpse from yesterday?” Shitou shouted in terror. “We… we…”

He was incoherent, unable to articulate his thoughts, feeling as though he’d violated the greatest taboo. He clasped his hands and bowed to heaven and earth, muttering prayers for protection.

Liu Jingye quietly lit a cigarette. “Now that the money’s here, I’d like you to help me send my share to the family of that fallen hero.”

Everyone was stunned. Liu Jingye would receive at least a million, yet was giving it all away—what breadth of spirit was this?

They looked at one another. Suddenly, Shitou gritted his teeth, slapped his bank card on the table. “I may not like police—at least not the corrupt ones—but for someone so brave and fearless, I have great respect. Big brother, I don’t want the money either. Let’s give it all to the family.”

Liu Jingye was taken aback. Shitou was a true friend—a real man.

The others hesitated, then followed suit, placing their cards on the table.

“What sort of team is this?” Liu Jingye was dumbfounded. “They’re just petty gangsters scraping by, burdened by families and poverty. Suddenly they come into a fortune, and before it’s even warmed in their hands, they give it away without hesitation.”

Their actions defied common sense, upending Liu Jingye’s understanding of human nature. It was incredible, and deeply admirable.

“You…” Liu Jingye was too moved to speak.

Hu Ming smiled gently. “Big brother, we support you. We may be small-time crooks, but we know what’s right.”

Liu Jingye trembled with emotion, raising his glass in a shaky salute, drinking deeply in respect.

The others followed, emptying their cups. Though they’d barely known each other a day, trusting him yesterday and now supporting him without reservation, it was clear: the bonds between men are simple—kindred spirits united.

“But don’t you all need the money?” Liu Jingye asked, still emotional, a little rambling.

They exchanged knowing smiles. Shitou spoke, “What’s money? With you as our leader, we won’t have to worry about earning it in the future.”

Liu Jingye paused, then understood. These brothers valued his planning and leadership, and since the money came so easily, they believed there would be more opportunities ahead.

Even so, Liu Jingye admired their ability to make sacrifices and look to the future.

He said cheerfully, “If you’re willing, and there’s another chance, we can fight together again. But let me be clear—I won’t do anything illegal.”

“Of course, of course,” Hu Ming replied with a grin. “To ordinary people it might be illegal, but if it’s against someone like Huang Weiwei, with her underworld connections and suspected ties to corrupt officials, taking from her isn’t exactly breaking the law, right?”

Liu Jingye said nothing more, but a knowing smile appeared on his face.

Yuan Xiaoying hoped he would become a shadow hero—hidden in darkness, fighting injustice. The others wanted him to lead them in a crusade against criminals, serving justice in their own way.

“How did I end up in this role without even realizing it?” Liu Jingye wondered.

Now that they’d decided to donate the illicit gains to the family of the fallen officer, only revenge remained—to seek justice for the hero.

He had already noted Huang Weiwei’s phone number; that was his true aim.

He stepped into the courtyard and dialed her number. Huang Weiwei answered, sounding weary. “Who is it?”

“Miss Huang Weiwei, I’m a witness to last night’s car accident,” Liu Jingye said bluntly.

Huang Weiwei snapped, furious: “How many people witnessed it? It was the middle of the night, pouring rain—what were you all doing out there? I know you’re all in this together. Let me warn you: don’t get greedy, don’t drive me to the brink. You know, causing death by hit-and-run carries seven to ten years, tops. Ten years from now, I’ll still be in my prime.”

She was nearly hysterical, rambling nonsense.

Liu Jingye smiled slightly. “Miss Huang, don’t be upset. I won’t extort you, not a single penny.”

“So what do you want, then? Still thinking about me?” Huang Weiwei snapped. “If you really want it, I’ll oblige, but let’s put this matter to rest.”

“Miss Huang, you’re famous for your social skills. Someone like me couldn’t hope to keep up,” Liu Jingye snorted. “I only need a favor from you.”

“What kind of favor?” Huang Weiwei asked. “Besides eating, drinking, shopping, and flaunting my charms, all I know is how to shake the bed.”

Liu Jingye laughed bitterly—she was too forthright. “Actually, I only hope you’ll do your duty as a good citizen. Stand up bravely, expose corrupt officials, drag out these rotten parasites, and restore justice for the people.”

“You want me to report…” Huang Weiwei was clever; without intelligence, she could never have become a socialite. She caught on instantly, and fell silent.

Liu Jingye pressed her, “Exactly. Now, the women by corrupt officials’ sides are the most secretive yet effective anti-corruption team in our harmonious country. I hope you’ll join them, strike for the people. If not…”

“What if not?” Huang Weiwei asked, voice trembling.

“Then I’ll post the footage from last night on social media, on forums, and send anonymous letters to the police,” Liu Jingye replied calmly.

Huang Weiwei was no fool—she caught his drift immediately. She replied meekly, “You want me to report on social media, post on forums, write anonymous letters to the disciplinary committee?”

“Smart.”