Chapter 103: Sowing Discord

"Freeze!"

Liu Jingye burst through the window, shouting in flawless Japanese, complete with a Kansai accent that would have fooled even a native speaker.

"Japanese devils?" The Vietnamese men were struck with terror. The middle-aged man reacted instantly, reaching for the space beneath his pillow where a gun was hidden.

The wounded man lunged forward immediately. Their coordination was impeccable; he was trying to buy the middle-aged man time to draw his weapon.

Liu Jingye sneered. With a flick of his wrist, two streaks of dark light shot out like meteors.

Both Vietnamese men let out a simultaneous cry of agony. Two shuriken struck true—one embedded in the middle-aged man’s wrist, and the other slashing the leg of the man who had lunged, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Don't move," Liu Jingye said, still in Japanese. "The blades are poisoned. Any strenuous movement will kill you instantly."

Though the Vietnamese men could not understand the language, the precision of his attack and the ominous blue glint on the weapons kept them frozen in place.

The middle-aged man sat motionless and asked in English, "Who are you, and why are you attacking us?"

Liu Jingye replied in Japanese, "Go back to where you came from. Stop harassing our associates, or you will find yourselves buried in unmarked graves."

The middle-aged man clearly understood the Japanese but lacked the ability to speak it. He switched to English: "Did Huang Guangzong send you?"

Liu Jingye let out a cold scoff. He tossed two pills from his pocket toward them, then vaulted back out the window. His movements were incredibly light, vanishing into the night with a grace that surpassed even the legendary wall-walking ninjas.

"Damn it, Huang Guangzong is pushing his luck, and those Japanese devils are even more arrogant." The middle-aged man, not doubting the pills for a second, swallowed the antidote, yanked the shuriken from his hand, and slammed it against the ground. "He’s clearly trying to renege on our deal. Fine, we’ll play this to the end. Let’s see if your Japanese ninja skills are better than my Mauser!"

"Go, contact headquarters immediately. Tell them everything that happened and request reinforcements," the middle-aged man commanded, glaring into the dark night with gnashing teeth.

***

"Knowing a foreign language or two is really important," Liu Jingye strolled down the street, puffing on a cigarette, in high spirits as he praised his own linguistic talent.

"Good thing I have a habit of collecting trophies. I kept the weapons and the antidote from that ninja, otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to pull off this act." Liu Jingye mused to himself, "I can't wait to see the grand spectacle of the little Japs and the Vietnamese savages going to war."

Just then, his phone rang. It was Yuan Xiaoying. "Thank God your phone is still working. That means you’re alive."

Liu Jingye chuckled bitterly. "I’ve only ever heard of people dying and the lights going out, never of people dying and their phones shutting off."

"Can you stop being a smart-ass for one second?" Yuan Xiaoying said anxiously. "Where are you, and what’s the situation?"

"Everything is fine, and tomorrow will be even better," Liu Jingye replied cheerfully.

"Then I’m relieved." Yuan Xiaoying didn't ask for details; it was clear others were around. She whispered, "I’m at the hospital now. Those two men from earlier are suffering from severe burns and are in critical condition. They’re in emergency surgery, and their identities haven't been confirmed. Who exactly are they?"

"They were your enemies, planning to throw firebombs at your window, but they ended up playing with fire themselves," Liu Jingye said dismissively. "You don't need to get involved in this anymore. A great show will be unfolding in a few days."

Yuan Xiaoying fell silent. Liu Jingye didn't sense excitement or relief from her, but rather a heavy, sorrowful weight.

After a long pause, Yuan Xiaoying’s voice came through, soft and distant: "Just how much have you done for me in silence?"

The question caught Liu Jingye off guard. He had indeed done many things for her, but he felt it was only natural—a soldier protects his country, and a man protects his woman. It was a matter of principle.

Disliking the oppressive, tearful atmosphere, he used the tone she hated most: "Regardless of what I’ve done for you, even if it were plucking the stars from the sky, the ultimate goal is just one thing: to share a bridal chamber with you!"

"Fine!" Contrary to her usual reaction, she didn't scold him. She agreed instantly: "I’m at the First Hospital right now. I see plenty of empty beds in the ward. If that doesn't work, we can go to the morgue; it’s nice and cool in there!"

Liu Jingye felt a vein throb in his forehead and gave a wry smile. "Why the rush to the morgue? One day we’ll be sleeping there for good, and we can stay as long as we like."

"Shut your crow’s mouth," Yuan Xiaoying snapped. "You really are infuriating; you can't go two sentences without going off the rails... Go back and get some rest. I’m off this weekend, waiting to watch the show with you."

She hung up. Liu Jingye returned to his hotel. He was alone again, in the cold and quiet, but it didn't matter. He knew tomorrow would be even more spectacular, and with hope in his heart, he no longer feared the loneliness.

***

The next day, the sun shone bright and the sky was clear—a rare, beautiful day in the rainy season. The air was fresh, birds were singing, and the atmosphere felt revitalized.

Liu Jingye went hiking early in the morning, carrying an eighty-pound pack. He wanted to maintain high-intensity training to increase his strength, speed, and coordination; he couldn't afford to slack off.

As the sun began to rise, he reached the summit. Standing at an altitude of five hundred meters, he watched the golden sun crest the horizon, overlooking the bustling metropolis. A new day, and another exciting story to unfold.

Huang Guangzong, the former head of the Huangchao, had just risen in his luxury hotel suite, preparing to deal with the Japanese. What was once a partnership had shifted dramatically; he had gone from a collaborator to an expendable subordinate.

His driver was a loyal confidant who had been with him for years—a former top-tier enforcer of the Huangchao and Huang Guangzong's only true sense of security.

But when he reached the parking lot to get into his car, he discovered his enforcer lying in a pool of blood, body convulsing.

"Xiao Wu! Xiao Wu! What happened to you? Who did this?" Huang Guangzong was paralyzed with shock.

Xiao Wu could no longer open his eyes. His limbs were twisted at horrific angles, clearly shattered. He struggled to open his mouth, but no sound came out, only a sickening stream of bright red blood.

"Don't be afraid, I'm taking you to the hospital..." Huang Guangzong said nervously. Xiao Wu had been by his side for years; they were closer than father and son.

He reached out to lift him, but as he moved him, Xiao Wu’s shirt fell open, revealing a chest soaked in blood. Huang Guangzong grabbed tissues from the car to stem the bleeding, but as he wiped away the gore, his eyes went blank.

He frantically wiped the rest of the blood from Xiao Wu's chest. Carved into his strong flesh, cut by cut, were the words: "DEBTS MUST BE PAID."

"Who? Who the hell did this? Come out if you have the guts..." In a state of extreme terror and shock, Huang Guangzong’s years of composure shattered, and he screamed like a madman, but only his own echo returned from the vast parking lot.

Just then, Xiao Wu breathed his last.

Huang Guangzong finally realized the gravity of the situation. Ignoring the body, he jumped into his car and sped away in a blind panic.

"What is going on?" Huang Guangzong drove wildly through the streets. The cold air from the car’s AC helped him regain a shred of composure, though his pale, aged face was etched with fear. "Who could be so brutal? Was it Liu Jingye? Or the Vietnamese? Or perhaps that assassin organization?"

"I clearly led the Vietnamese toward Yuan Xiaoying, and the assassin organization is all about money—I’ve never owed them a cent, even when missions failed! But they called yesterday saying they wouldn't accept my contracts anymore. Did they fear Liu Jingye, or did they discover I was trying to pit them against each other?"

"Or is it those Japanese? Do they think I’ve lost my power and have no use, so they’re using this to make me realize my position and submit to them?"

"What is happening? Everything was in my plan. I could use their blades to take my revenge, leverage the Japanese to make a comeback, and have local officials like Zhao Xue'an intervene until the heat died down so I could leave Huangxing."

"But how did everything change so suddenly? It’s as if everyone has turned against me."

Huang Guangzong couldn't fathom it. The sudden shift was impossible to accept, and the shadow of death was quietly enveloping him.

"Even Xiao Wu, the only one I could trust to protect me, is dead," Huang Guangzong muttered defeatedly, looking a dozen years older in an instant. "Now I have no choice but to rely on those Japanese. Surviving is all that matters."

Huang Guangzong drove straight toward the villa where the Japanese were staying. As he turned from the main road onto a smaller path, the car suddenly shuddered with a loud *bang*. The vehicle spun out of control, nearly throwing him from his seat.

He finally brought the car to a stop and stepped out to check the damage, only to find all four tires blown. Looking back at the road he had just traversed, he saw it was littered with steel spikes.

"Damn it, who is so heartless?" Huang Guangzong cursed, his panic leaving him helpless.

In his agitated state, he was even less likely to notice the danger lurking nearby.

Behind him was a narrow road leading northward, a forty-five-degree incline that climbed toward the northern mountains. Parked on that slope was a massive, Optimus Prime-style semi-truck.

As Huang Guangzong stood there in confusion and complaint, the door of the semi-truck opened. A hand in a white glove reached out, revealing a slender, fair wrist—the hand of a woman.

She gently released the truck's handbrake. On the forty-degree slope, deprived of its brakes, the massive truck began to roll. With the force of gravity, it picked up speed, hurtling toward Huang Guangzong like a prehistoric beast.