Chapter 432: Grand Finale (Part 1): Wang Ba Qiu

I was about to speak when I suddenly realized something was wrong—the moment I said a word, I'd give myself away. I couldn't talk now; I had to think of another way.

What would Third Uncle do now? What would Third Uncle do in this situation? My mind was a mess, and as I watched Wang Baqiu walk right up to me and see my face, he immediately looked stunned.

I stared at him, and in that instant the only way I could think of not to blow my cover was to step toward him, swing my left fist, and smash it straight into his nose.

Caught off guard, he was knocked flat by my punch. My hand instantly throbbed with pain, but I gritted my teeth and threw another punch, knocking him down again just as he was getting up. He screamed like a stuck pig. Remembering what he'd said during our last meal, I got really pissed off. Since I didn't know if I could fool him anyway, I figured I might as well enjoy myself first, so I stood up and started kicking him wildly.

The guy looked pretty tough, but when it came to fighting, he was a total pushover—he didn't even have a chance to fight back. The few henchmen behind him finally snapped out of it and charged at me, but Panzi immediately blocked them and said, "Come on if you want to die. One slice each, and if I don't take you all out in three minutes, I'm not a man."

Everyone knew how ruthless Panzi was, so for a moment, none of the four dared to move.

By then my own hand had gone numb from hitting him. Afraid that the cost of treating my hand would end up being more than the cost of treating his injuries, I didn't want to overdo it. I kicked him a few more times and then turned and walked away.

When Panzi saw me leave, he spat and followed. As we passed an intersection, I saw the henchmen rush to help Wang Baqiu up. I quickened my pace until we were out of their sight, and then noticed that my hand had swollen up like a steamed bun.

"Next time, use your palm," Panzi said. "Using your fist on him is doing him a favor."

I looked behind me and asked, "Did we blow it?"

"Hard to say. He must have had eyes on us, tailing either me or you. When he saw you like this, he thought Third Master was back and came right over to check the situation. Your reaction just now was good, but you didn't hit him hard enough."

"Not enough?"

"If I'd been the one, we wouldn't be worrying about whether he saw through it or not," Panzi said. "But whether he did or not, that beating must have left him confused. Let's not worry about him for now—let's move fast."

We hailed a taxi. Panzi said I couldn't go back to my original hotel, nor could I go to his place. By tonight, all of Changsha would know about this. We had to lie low, but not for too long, because Third Master had never been afraid of those bastards. Tomorrow was bound to be a tough fight.

If we could get through tomorrow, we'd head straight back to our shop in Hangzhou and be able to lay low for a long time.

I nodded, and he said, "We can't sleep tonight. I need to teach you how to bluff your way through. But tomorrow, we can't just go head-on like I said. There's no way you can learn to act like Third Master in one night. Tomorrow I'll find a place where you stay inside and I stay outside, so they can only see your face. You won't have to speak, but you'll have to reprimand them."

"How can I reprimand them without speaking?" I asked, puzzled.

Panzi grinned mysteriously. "I'll teach you the first move of Third Master's divine skill: reprimanding in silence."

That night, I practiced the silent reprimand technique almost all night. It was basically just throwing ledgers from a distance.

Panzi said that when Third Uncle got angry, he usually liked to curse people out, but when he was at the peak of his rage, he'd instead become very silent. He'd take out the problematic ledgers and make the people from the branch responsible wait outside. If they explained themselves well, he'd put the ledger down. If there was an issue, he'd throw the ledger out, and the guy would know he was finished.

The ledger had to be thrown accurately, but not too accurately. My problem, though, was that I had to recognize the faces of all the branch heads. Tomorrow some deputies would also come, so the total might exceed thirty people. Panzi didn't have any photos, so he could only set up a diagram first, have those people stand in order tomorrow, assign numbers, and I'd have to memorize a number for each name, then toss the ledger in the direction of that number.

I practiced all night and finally got the hang of it, developing some skill with the throws. At the end, I also had to throw an ashtray as a finale. That ashtray was supposed to be thrown at Panzi as punishment for his poor performance, so that Panzi could use it to fly into a rage.

I looked at the ashtray that was about to be smashed. It was an enamel plate from the late Qing Dynasty. I couldn't help thinking, Panzi, you'd better catch it—I'm throwing away more than six thousand bucks here.

In the early morning, I slept for a bit. At five in the morning, Panzi sent out a mass text: "Collect the scales, nine o'clock, the usual place."

That was also code, just like "dragon spine back."

After we both got up and dressed neatly, Panzi said as we walked out, "Third Master, you are Third Master."

I looked at him, not sure if he was talking to me or to himself. Just as we turned the corner, a person suddenly emerged from the darkness of the intersection and slashed at Panzi from behind. Caught completely off guard, Panzi stumbled several steps forward, blood splattering from his back. The man immediately turned and lunged at me, a cleaver in his hand swinging toward my neck.

I dodged just in time. Panzi had already scrambled back up, grabbed the man by the back of the collar, and wrested the cleaver away after a few moves. The man struggled free, and I immediately saw six or seven more people emerge from the darkness behind him.

Without a word, they charged at us.

Panzi's back was already soaked with blood. He gripped the cleaver and said quietly to me, "Don't run. Look at me. Stay calm."

I was drenched in cold sweat. I didn't say a word. Panzi leveled the cleaver and said, "Only seven of them. Is Wang Baqiu too cheap to spend more?"

"Wang Baqiu?" I stared at those men, and suddenly realized what was going on. These must be the killers Wang Baqiu sent to silence us. But how did he find us? Were his eyes really that good?

The expressions on those men were cold beyond comprehension. I didn't recognize them. The vibe they gave off suddenly terrified me—even when I'd encountered strange things in tombs, I'd never felt this scared. I thought back to how Uncle Qiu had been back when I was still Little Third Master, how he used to secretly slip me pocket money. It hit me then that people could be incredibly snobbish, but there should be a line! What's scarier than ghosts and gods is the human heart. Was this what the human heart was like? I looked at the blood on Panzi's back. That slash on his back made me dizzy.

After Panzi cut down three of them, the rest immediately ran off.

He shot me a glance, leaned against the wall to catch his breath, and said, "Wang Baqiu's a businessman. This kind of thing isn't his specialty. If you want to be ruthless, guys like that won't cut it."

I gave a bitter smile and asked if he was okay. I went over to support him, but he shook his head and told me not to come closer. "If the big boss helps a wounded subordinate, it looks like we're finished. I'm fine." He pointed in the other direction. I saw that the men hadn't gotten far. "They've still got half their money to collect. They have to kill us to get it. They're looking for another chance to ambush us."

"What do we do then?" I looked in that direction. "You'll go into shock from blood loss."

"No way. I could go into shock from a lot of things, but not from losing blood," Panzi said. He stood up, and I saw bloodstains all over the wall behind him. "Come on, let's follow them."

After a few steps, he paused, and I saw a pained expression flash across his face, but he just frowned and kept quiet.

We walked one behind the other toward those henchmen. Panzi held the cleaver sideways, scraping it against the wall as he went. That was the cheapest kind of intimidation in a fight. Back in the day, he'd never have had to do this himself, but now it was just the two of us.

Rabble is rabble. Panzi forced those few kids all the way back to the main road, and Panzi's blood soaked his pants. He put down the knife and saw that those kids hadn't run away but were staring straight at us, obviously seeing Panzi's condition and knowing he would fall sooner or later.

We stood by the roadside waiting for a taxi, but looking around, I thought to myself, this area is even harder to hail a cab than in Hangzhou.

Suddenly I felt this was the most tragic thing in the world: we had been slashed, we were bluffing, we had made it to the main road, but we couldn't get a taxi. I wondered if it was because Panzi was holding a knife.

Seeing Panzi leaning against a tree, about to collapse from exhaustion, I grew very anxious. I thought about what Panzi had said earlier—that this was unprofessional tactics. Could it be that since Third Uncle was gone, we would be reduced to this by such unprofessional methods? Those few people gradually closed in. Panzi gripped the machete tightly, glanced at me, and looked somewhat helpless. Suddenly I wanted to call the police, but at that moment, I recalled his words: "There are some things you just can't handle."

I always thought that what he meant by "can't handle" came from enormous pressure from all sides. I never expected "can't handle" to look like this. So lacking in grace, so naked. Watching your own good friend about to collapse, you still have to pretend to be calm, unable to choose to run away, unable to choose other help, only able to endure desperately under their rules of the game.

My hand clenched into a fist in my pocket, thinking if Panzi couldn't go on, what should I do? Take Panzi's knife and continue? At that moment, I suddenly saw those few kids across from us cheer, and then another dozen or so people rushed out from another road, all holding machetes.

As soon as the two groups exchanged words, they immediately looked at us. The leader waved his hand and quickly advanced toward us. My heart sank—there were more people! Panzi suddenly stood up, cursed, and said: "Yo, it's the little cobbler from South City. Wang Baqiu sure gets around, knowing about my grudge with him. Third Master, step back, don't get your clothes dirty." With that, he slapped the knife against the tree and walked toward them alone.

But after a few steps, the people opposite stopped and all looked behind me. I saw their expressions were awkward. Panzi also found it strange, stopped, and looked back.

I turned around and saw the doors of several cars by the roadside open one after another. Many people came out. Huo Xiuxiu walked at the front, wearing casual clothes, hopping over and linking arms with me, saying: "Third Uncle, long time no see. Do you still remember me?"

Before I could speak, I saw Xiao Hua on the other side, wearing a suit and his signature pink shirt, texting as he walked up to me. Without looking up, he finished the message, then looked at the people opposite and said: "Escort Third Master to the 'old place.' If you run into Wang Baqiu, kill him outright. I'll take responsibility."