Chapter 63

Ye Wen saw Jin Shanzhao leave; he knew what he was about to face, sighed without speaking—this damned world.

Hearing Ye Wen's long sigh, Wang Yan said: "Why not wander up north for a while?"

At that moment, Zhang Yongcheng stepped out and interrupted: "No way—the child's still so young. What if something happens to you? What will we do?" She knew what they were doing and didn't interfere unless their safety was at stake. But now, seeing Wang Yan coaxing Ye Wen into war, she snapped: "Ah Yan, don't ever say that again. Or don't blame me for locking you out."

Wang Yan waved his hand carelessly: "How could I? Just joking, Sister-in-law, don't take it to heart."

Zhang Yongcheng shot him a disgruntled glare and went to soothe Ye Zhun. She didn't believe a word he said—based on her knowledge of Ye Wen, he'd been utterly tempted just now.

"Ah Yan, Yongcheng…"

"It's fine, Brother Wen. I know all about it. Besides, how could I ever send you to the battlefield?"

Ye Wen sighed again, silent. Sometimes he envied Wang Yan's reckless freedom—longing to grab a rifle and ride out, slaughtering with him. But every time he thought of his wife and child, and looked at Wang Yan's bloodthirsty aura, the thought vanished. This damned world.

Ignoring Ye Wen's sentimental mood, Wang Yan called out and left—clearly, Zhang Yongcheng didn't want him around today.

In the following period, Wang Yan paused, unusually still—perhaps the calm before the storm.

In 1936, March, Wang Yan received word that Gong Baosen intended to retire from the martial world. He had been raised by Gong Baosen; emotionally and morally, he had to go—he must go.

He immediately set out north with his new recruits and Li Qiankun. With over a month until the date, he planned to squeeze in one more fight along the way.

After half a month of staged travel, he gathered his forces in the area and moved without delay. He had his men contact Old Yang, primarily to coordinate—his Wang Mou had arrived.

Old Yang got the message and instantly understood. He rushed to draft an operation plan overnight—something big had to be done. After extensive discussion, they decided to attack a stronghold guarded by a full company. Only Wang Yan would dare attempt such a scale—he himself wouldn't have dared without him.

Though Wang Yan's men were all ruthless and highly combat-ready, without Wang Yan, they were merely unofficial allies of the Anti-Japanese League. With Wang Yan, they became an entirely different force.

Wang Yan waited a day and received intelligence from the Anti-Japanese League fighters. Old Yang, an old friend, knew Wang Yan's fighting style well—he simply told him: "Attack here. Strike at this time."

Naturally, they took the main assault role while Old Yang provided support. There was no alternative—if anything went wrong and they failed to overwhelm the enemy, Old Yang's men couldn't outrun Wang Yan's—they'd all be left as cannon fodder.

The strategic objective was achieved, but the operation was too brutal, too rushed. Even with surprise, poison, and assassinations, nearly a hundred of Wang Yan's men died outright—mostly newcomers. Others were wounded to varying degrees, depending on how tough they were. Old Yang's side fared no better. Wang Yan himself was hit twice—one bullet scraped off a chunk of flesh, the other struck his shoulder. Standard operations—he was covered in scars already. A quick treatment was enough. Just painful, nothing serious.

Jin Shanzhao, however, got lucky—even Li Qiankun, whom Wang Yan shielded, got shot, but Jin Shanzhao only scraped his skin—no harm done.

He'd essentially crippled himself—needed serious rest. After handling the aftermath, Wang Yan headed for Fengtian.

Hurrying as fast as he could, he arrived just in time for Gong Baosen's retirement ceremony.

He observed cautiously the entire way—he couldn't afford carelessness. Everyone knew his connection to Gong Baosen; the Japanese had him under tight surveillance. In the south, their strength was weak and they couldn't touch him. But Fengtian was their stronghold—they were waiting for him to walk right into their trap. Fortunately, Wang Yan had spent years behind enemy lines—he was experienced. After disguising himself, he slipped into the ceremony venue without incident: a grand restaurant, the finest of its kind in that era and place.

Ma San had been raised by Gong Baosen since childhood—no different from a biological son. When Wang Yan entered, Gong Baosen was on stage, sparring with Ma San. It was essentially a succession ceremony—to legitimize and glorify Ma San, making him the new face of the Gong family.

Wang Yan watched silently as Ma San shone on stage, wondering whether Ma San would still dare to betray him now that Wang Mou was here.

After watching awhile, Wang Yan slipped away quietly. Too many eyes—stay too long and risk exposure. He turned toward the Gong family mansion to wait.

The Gong family knew Wang Yan too well—not exaggerating, they sometimes relied on his name to survive in the martial world. The disciple on guard recognized him instantly, quickly stepped aside to let him in, glanced around, then shut the gate.

As he led Wang Yan inside, the disciple asked: "Master Wang, why are you here?"

"Master Gong retired—I owe everything I am today to his mentorship. I had to come." Wang Yan stepped into the room: "It's only right."

"Master Wang is a man of honor. Rest here for now. Master won't return for a while—I won't disturb you." The disciple bowed and withdrew.

Those left to guard the mansion were trusted. Wang Yan had met this man before—no cause for concern.

Wang Yan lay down on the side-room kang and fell asleep instantly. The Japanese had truly gone mad—this loss hurt, and they were hunting them with desperation. He hadn't slept well in weeks. Now, with a moment's relaxation, exhaustion overwhelmed him.

Gong Baosen returned with a large group of disciples, slightly drunk. The same disciple quickly intercepted him and whispered in his ear. Gong Baosen's spirits lifted—he sobered up instantly. Then, he regained his earlier demeanor.

Honestly, Gong Baosen was conflicted. If Wang Yan hadn't come, he'd feel regret. But now that he had, he was both startled and delighted.

He dismissed his disciples and took Ma San and Gong Er to his reception room.

He didn't see Wang Yan inside, so he turned and lifted the curtain to the side room, stepping in. Ma San and Gong Er followed behind him.

Wang Yan's post-trauma reflexes were sharp—Gong Baosen's movement jolted him awake. He rolled instantly to the wall, pistol appearing in hand, lunging forward.

His gun was already chambered and ready in his space—he drew and fired without hesitation. Fortunately, he recognized Gong Baosen in time and didn't shoot—otherwise, Gong Baosen would be dead.

Only when Wang Yan was right before him did Gong Baosen react. Behind them, Ma San and Gong Er hadn't moved—they'd entered to see a flash, then Wang Yan with a gun in hand.

Wang Yan holstered his pistol and bowed apologetically: "Master Gong, my apologies. Habit."

Gong Baosen laughed: "Haha, I understand, I understand. No problem, don't think about it. Sit down and talk." He sat on the kang.

Wang Yan nodded to Gong Er, then sat on the kang too. As for Ma San—he wasn't worth acknowledging.

Gong Baosen noticed Wang Yan's gesture and smiled: "Let me introduce you—this is my daughter, Gong Er."

Wang Yan addressed Gong Er: "Hello, Young Lady Gong."

Gong Er nodded: "Hello."

Gong Baosen said: "Enough formalities—we're family. No need for such politeness." He turned to Gong Er: "Go brew some tea."

Gong Er glanced at Wang Yan, then turned to brew tea.

Without being asked, Ma San sat behind Gong Baosen. He now understood—Gong Baosen had told him everything about Wang Yan. Honestly, it scared him. Still, he refused to yield. If Wang Yan disliked him, did he have to like Wang Yan? Avoiding trouble was enough—surely his master's authority should protect him.

"You shouldn't have come," Gong Baosen said to Wang Yan, seated across the small table.

"Everything I am today is thanks to your mentorship. How could I not come for such a moment?"

"You…," Gong Baosen smiled warmly. "Just now, your grip on the pistol seemed unsteady. You're injured?"

Wang Yan glanced at Gong Baosen in surprise—he hadn't thought he'd hidden it so well, yet this old man still noticed. "Master Gong has sharp eyes. Minor wounds—nothing serious."

Gong Baosen didn't believe him. Could wounds from gunfire be "minor"? He pressed: "How bad?"

"A graze on the leg, a bullet in the shoulder. Both treated. Nothing to worry about, Master Gong."

Gong Baosen frowned: "You've done something again? I heard nothing." In the past, Wang Yan's operations made headlines—this time, not a whisper.

Wang Yan explained: "Old Yang's Anti-Japanese League and I did it together."

"Huh…" Gong Baosen gasped. "That's a full company. Heavy casualties?"

"We basically broke them. Need time to regroup."

Gong Baosen sighed deeply: "Ah… good men. Good men." After a pause, he steadied himself: "Enough. Let's talk of something pleasant. Actually, you didn't need to come—Foshan Jingwu Association invited me to hold another retirement ceremony."

At that moment, Gong Er entered with tea, poured for them all, then sat quietly to the side. She listened to their conversation—no room for her or Ma San to speak.

She'd known of Wang Yan since age fifteen, never met him. Now, at twenty, she'd finally seen this legendary man.

Wang Yan thanked him and said, "Master Gong, this is a perfect opportunity—I suggest you move directly south. Here, you've always struggled, and with my presence, you're even more constrained. The situation is unclear now; it's not safe to stay longer."

"I know what you're saying. Let me think more. Let me think more."

Wang Yan did not press further. He knew Gong Baosen was not a rigid man—he would come to his own conclusion.

Afterward, the two exchanged some idle words and parted. Wang Yan was truly exhausted; he lay down again and fell into a deep sleep.

In another room of the large house, Gong Baosen dismissed Ma San, and father and daughter began to talk.

"Aren't you always complaining about wanting to see him? So why didn't you speak a word today when you met?" Gong Baosen teased. He held Wang Yan in extremely high regard ever since 1932, when Wang Yan first led men northward—he'd already formed this thought then. But following Wang Yan was unstable, uncertain, one never knew when one might be killed. His wish was simple: he only wanted Gong Er to live in peace. A suitable match, a stable life—it was a constant tug-of-war, leaving him torn. This delay dragged on until now, and the girl was already twenty.

Gong Er blushed and said, "He doesn't seem as formidable as the legends say." Gong Er had trained in martial arts since childhood, preferring weapons to makeup—but when it came to matters like this, a young girl's shyness was unavoidable.

Seeing his daughter like this, Gong Baosen knew exactly what she was thinking. He sighed and asked, "Have you decided?" Though he hoped she would choose this path, he couldn't help but worry.

"I've decided." Gong Er had met the son of her father's old family friend; compared to him, she preferred Wang Yan. After all, she had to marry someone. She certainly couldn't marry an ordinary man—whether Gong Baosen approved or not, the real question was whether an ordinary man would even catch her eye. Now that she'd met someone she truly admired, that was enough.

The next day, Wang Yan woke up refreshed, washed and dressed, then ate the breakfast Gong Er had brought. Throughout, Gong Er watched him with a strange gaze, but Wang Yan paid no mind, assuming the girl was merely curious.

After breakfast, Wang Yan moved around lightly in the room. He planned to leave today—there were many tasks waiting for him.

Gong Baosen came over after eating and paused, startled by Wang Yan's appearance: "Leaving today?"

Wang Yan nodded. "There's much to do. We've suffered heavy losses. I estimate we'll arrive in Foshan around the same time."

"I won't waste your time—I'll be direct. What do you think of Gong Er? Is she suitable for you?" Gong Baosen knew Wang Yan's situation, so he cut straight to the point.

Wang Yan paused. "You mean…?" Now he understood why Gong Er had looked at him strangely earlier.

Gong Baosen said, "Exactly. What's your answer?"

Without needing to lift a finger, he'd won her—what could Wang Yan say? He immediately bowed. "Your humble junior humbly accepts your command."

Gong Baosen nodded in satisfaction. "I've picked the wedding date: the tenth day of the eighth month next year. I have only one daughter—you'd better stay alive, boy."

Wang Yan nodded firmly. "Master Gong, rest assured—I know what I'm doing. What about the southern relocation we discussed earlier…"

"That's not urgent. Let's wait a while. Go now."

Wang Yan nodded reluctantly, bowed, and took his leave. "Your humble junior takes his leave."

Outside, he saw Gong Er absentmindedly scuffing the ground with her foot. He stepped forward and said, "I'm leaving. Let's meet again in Foshan."

Gong Er nodded. "Mm. Be careful." Then she called out to Wang Yan as he turned to go. "Wait—I'm Ruomei."

Wang Yan turned back and repeated softly: "Ruomei. Got it." They exchanged a long look, then Wang Yan walked away.

Gong Er did not go to see him off. She simply watched until his figure vanished around the corner.

Inside, Gong Baosen watched his daughter standing motionless for a long time. A smile touched his lips. It was good.

He set out northward in late spring and returned in the heat of summer.

Back in Foshan, Wang Yan tidied up and sent someone to invite Zhou Qingquan to dinner at Ye Wen's home.

After dinner, Wang Yan asked, "Are the supplies ready?"

"Long ago. Hidden exactly as you instructed." Zhou Qingquan nodded, then asked, "Why so much this time? What's happened?"

"The team was shattered. We need to recruit more men."

Ye Wen exclaimed in shock: "Shattered?" He knew the combat strength of that team—four or five men could kill him easily.

"Yes." Wang Yan nodded and told them the full story.

The two sighed in dismay. Even hearing it made them shudder—they'd nearly been killed multiple times. Too perilous.

Wang Yan said no more, shifting the topic to casual family talk.

Ye Wen smoked a cigarette and said, "By the way, Ah Yan, the Jingwu Association told me they've invited Master Gong to hold his retirement ceremony. It's the day after tomorrow. Did you know?"

Wang Yan replied, "Of course. I was there when Master Gong held his in Fengtian."

Ye Wen nodded. "Good." He'd been worried Wang Yan might not know about Gong Baosen's arrival and might commit a breach of etiquette.