Chapter 114: Chapter Thirty-Seven: Wei Xiong

Past events surged into my mind like a tide, and vanished memories replayed in my brain like a movie.

I will never forget that scene, because I accidentally urinated on a campus "big brother" while peeing in the toilet, and five hulks each over twice my size pinned me down in the toilet and beat me up.

Their fists rained down on me like raindrops, their feet mercilessly kicked my armpits and belly, they held my head down, trying to stuff me into the toilet pit.

A frail figure descended from nowhere, wielding an iron rod, and ruthlessly swept everyone away.

When the other side gathered their lackeys to seek revenge, that same frail figure appeared, cigarette in mouth, iron rod in hand, fearlessly standing before me; though malnourished, his stance was as firm and towering as a mountain.

He dared to point at dozens and curse them alone, he dared to brandish his sword and mount his horse, standing alone at the gate to shield his brothers.

He pointed at the surging thugs and roared: "You dare move my brothers? You don't want to live, do you?"

Back then we were students after all; although we formed cliques and gangs, deep down everyone was actually quite afraid.

Perhaps, he was the only one who was different.

He was Wei Xiong—a brother I bought with a pack of cigarettes. All because I gave him a pack when he was scrambling to borrow money for smokes; he patted my shoulder and said, "From now on… you are my brother."

How ridiculous this was—I thought he was just talking, but who could have guessed he truly regarded me as a brother? Back then he alone beat up a school gang; now, for my sake, he held a glass shard to a gang leader's throat.

He remained as thin and short as before, just as ruthless; whenever someone harmed his brothers, he turned into a ferocious tiger and wolf, trampling any heavenly king or elder without hesitation.

"Wei Xiong…" gazing at the frail figure ahead holding a glass shard to the thug's neck, my eyes involuntarily moistened; deep in my heartstrings, a spot trembled slightly from overwhelming emotion.

When we realized it was Wei Xiong, everyone froze. No one expected that after so many years, our reunion as brothers would occur amid such chaos.

"Release my brother, or… you die," Wei Xiong said, pressing slightly harder with both hands; the glass shard at the thug's neck sank deeper, and bright red blood trickled down his throat.

The bald thug's eyes flickered with fear for an instant, but he quickly concealed it.

In his gaze toward Wei Xiong, a sneer surfaced, the corner of his mouth curling as he self‑mockingly rubbed his nose.

"Little kid, do you think you alone can withstand how many people here? You wrecked my Northeast Tiger's turf, you might get out of this place, but can you get out of Aomen?" At that moment the bald thug showed no lewdness; an aura unique to a crime lord surged about him.

When he spoke the name Northeast Tiger in fluent Cantonese, my heart felt as if crushed by a thousand‑ton stone, but in an instant I returned to normal.

Southern Heavenly King, Northeast Tiger—the two major heads of Aomen's underground dynasty; I have met Chen Zheng before, and tonight I also saw Northeast Tiger.

But who would have thought that the leader of the Tiger Gang would have none of a crime lord's bearing, instead behaving like a street thug who harasses young girls everywhere?

At this moment I felt no fear whatsoever, even though the Northeast Tiger's power was terrifying; nor did I hide my contempt for him on my face.

Though both are underworld bosses, the heads of the two major gangs, Chen Zheng's character is far more upright than his; even if Chen Zheng might sometimes do things ordinary people despise in secret, he would never stoop to the despicable act of forcing decent women into prostitution.

This is the gap between people: even if you cover the sky with one hand and your power is fearsome, I might fear you, I might endure you, but in my heart I will never respect you—I will look down on you.

"One word… will you let him go or not?" Wei Xiong's style remained terse; he never wasted breath.

"Hmph… do you know who I am? Do you know what the Northeast Tiger represents in Aomen? With just one word from me, you'll have to crawl out of Aomen." The Northeast Tiger's aura was fierce; his stern exterior belied a weak interior as he threatened Wei Xiong.

Those words drew another round of fierce contempt for him in my heart.

This trick of a cornered mule with limited tricks was used over and over; although it seemed stern outside, the tough aura could not hide that his inner strength was gradually waning.

When Wei Xiong drove the glass shard a fraction deeper into his neck, he grew afraid, and his aura immediately weakened a bit.

"Fine, I'll let you go…" his tone could not conceal the fleeting panic.

"Go…" Wei Xiong, while gripping him, gave us a glance.

I knew this wasn't the time for reminiscing, so I hurriedly moved toward the door with Pangzi and Yao Yirong.

The gangsters surrounding us looked at us with eyes flashing the vicious hatred of mortal enemies.

Yet they could do nothing to me, for their boss was in my brother's hands; though unwilling, they dared not move a muscle.

Step by step, under their unwilling, hateful gazes, we four walked out of the bar's doorway.

Those few minutes felt as long as a lifetime; when we finally stepped one foot out of the bar door, a cool breeze blew, I involuntarily exhaled, and at that moment I realized my back was already soaked—I had been drenched in sweat without noticing.

Just then, a fierce shout came from behind, followed by a tumultuous scramble and cursing from the crowd.

We turned back and suddenly saw a scene that made our hearts tighten.

Sometime unknown, the glass shard in Wei Xiong's hand had been taken away, his hand reddened over a large area; the hostage, the Northeast Tiger, had already been rescued by the several black‑clad bodyguards beside him.

"Hurry up and go…" Seeing this, I knew Wei Xiong was likely done for, but he is my brother—I cannot abandon him.

So I shouted at Yao Yirong, shoved him and Silijing aside, and Pangzi and I turned and rushed back inside.

Although Wei Xiong was besieged by several gangsters, he was not at a disadvantage; he hurled bar liquor, stools and such, and darted around the bar to evade their blows.

Pangzi and I swung iron rods everywhere, finally carving a bloody path to Wei Xiong's side; only then did I realize, damn it, we had been set up.

The gangsters let us in so easily just to trap us inside, leaving us like caged birds surrounded by them—no matter how we tried to escape, we remained within their encirclement.

Wei Xiong, Pangzi and I were driven into a corner of the bar, while the Northeast Tiger stood nearby, silent, merely watching us; as his gaze swept over Wei Xiong, he unabashedly revealed a hint of ruthlessness.

He seemed to enjoy this cat‑and‑mouse game, loving to first frighten the mouse, break its courage, then cruelly toy with it.

"Damn it, didn't I tell you two to run? Why did you come back?" Wei Xiong snarled, glaring at me and Pangzi as we turned back.

I turned back, looked at his disheveled state, merely smiled and said five words: "We are brothers."

Pangzi said nothing, just gave a firm nod and placed his hand on his shoulder.

Even without words, one could feel this resolve to live and die together.

Pangzi and I exchanged a glance, each looking at our own palms, we nodded in unison, and then I immediately shook my head at Pangzi.

This puzzling scene held a meaning outsiders couldn't grasp; in fact Pangzi and I knew that against so many attackers, martial arts would be useless. Even if Pangzi could fight, two fists can't fend off four hands—he might down one but could not defeat them all.

Our only recourse was to revert to our old trade—magic. But in this situation ordinary incantations are useless; the enemy won't give us time, won't wait while we set up an altar to curse him.

Thus the only thing we could use was martial magic. Yet this martial magic, though fierce, carries side effects: any Daoist who employs it to punish evildoers must first divine before the patriarch's altar, and only if the patriarch permits may they wield it; otherwise, recklessly using martial magic to harm lives brings only calamity upon one's kin and heavenly retribution.

So when Pangzi nodded, I immediately shook my head. He and I are different—he still has relatives, even a father; whereas I, my only mother is dead, and my only Sister Jiajia is still a ghost, whom I have yet to find.

Let me bear it all! Since I am afflicted with the five flaws and three deficiencies, shunned by the heavenly way, why not let the heavenly punishment come even more fiercely?

I silently bit the middle fingers of both hands, then traced a yin‑thunder sigil on each palm.

Without waiting for the Northeast Tiger to speak, I lunged forward in a sprint, clutching the thunder character.

As he saw me charging, his eyes first flickered with astonishment, then a doubtful sneer appeared; looking at me, it was as if he were gazing at an ant.

Without him speaking, several of his bodyguards immediately stepped forward to block his front.

One of the suited bodyguards, watching me charge forward, showed a contemptuous smile at the corner of his eye.

Dongbei Hu gave no orders; all the triad members surrounding us dared not move. The only one who moved was this black-clad bodyguard.

He likewise clenched his fists and came toward me, his eyes always holding a contemptuous smile toward me; it seemed he was very confident in his martial arts and looked down on me.

However, this world isn't just about martial arts and fighting techniques; there is also… a martial art called the Daoist Sect.

He clenched his fists, I opened my palm, and we faced each other like that and moved forward.

However, just as the palm and fist were about to collide, a sudden angry shout came from the doorway.

"Enough, everyone stop,"