Siheyuan: Hang Jia Dongxu, smash Banggeng to death!

Uncle Deng stood by the window, his back to the other old men. The light flickered, casting a dim glow on his wrinkled face.

He just said he'd wait for Big D to make a mistake, and then wait for a fatal opportunity.

Several old men nodded, their faces showing a sense of relief, as if a major D party member had been brought to justice.

Uncle Deng sneered inwardly.

What a pack of greedy wolves! They're constantly fighting amongst themselves for territory, business, women, and face.

Now that their interests have been threatened, they know they need to unite.

When Ah Lok was alive, these old folks bossed people around; now that Ah Lok is dead, they're gnashing their teeth at Big D.

In reality, they don't care who is in charge; they only care about their own interests.

Anyone who touches their money is an enemy, no matter who they are.

"Deng Bo is brilliant!"

The fat old man gave a thumbs up, a smile plastered on his face.

Others echoed this sentiment, and the teahouse was filled with flattering voices.

Uncle Deng waved his hand.

He didn't turn around.

He didn't want to see those hypocritical faces.

"It's getting late, everyone should head back now." He turned around. "Remember, don't mention what happened today to anyone."

Big D has many informants. If word gets out, we're all finished. He doesn't play by any rules these days.

Several old men nodded in agreement, indicating that they understood. If Big D was going to follow the rules, he should compete fairly with Ah Lok for the dragon head stick.

And now, Ah Le is dead.

Just then, the lights in the room suddenly went out.

It wasn't a power outage, the lights went out, as if they were covered by something.

The curtains weren't drawn, and the neon lights outside were still flashing, but no light could get in.

The room was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

"What happened?" The fat old man's voice trembled slightly.

"Don't panic, it's probably just a blown fuse," the thin old man said, but his voice was trembling.

Uncle Deng did not speak.

He gripped his cane tightly, his knuckles turning white, and his heart pounding.

Having lived for over seventy years, I've seen many strange things, but I've never encountered anything like this before.

The lights went out, and no light could get in, as if it were being covered by an invisible hand.

"Heh... What a well-thought-out and cunning show."

A laugh came from the corner.

Several old men turned their heads at the same time and looked towards the corner.

A figure slowly emerged from the darkness, carrying an axe. "Good evening, everyone."

Lin Tian emerged from the darkness with an innocent smile on his face. "In a meeting? Why didn't you call me?"

The old men's faces turned deathly pale instantly.

They didn't know who the child was, how he got in, or what he wanted.

But they saw the axe, and they saw the bloodstains on the blade.

Is this an assassin?

"Who...who are you?" the fat old man asked, mustering his courage, but his voice was trembling.

"Me? My name is Lin Tian."

"You may not know me, but your son does."

The fat old man was stunned for a moment.

How come I didn't know my son knew you?

Or who the hell are you?

Wait... why does this name sound familiar?

"Lin...Lin Tian?"

The fat old man muttered to himself a few times, then his legs suddenly gave way and he sat down on the ground.

The other old men also realized what was happening.

Lin Tian, ​​the Lin Tian who killed Feng Yuxiu with an axe, the Lin Tian that Liang Kun paid a fortune to have taught him martial arts.

How did he end up here?

What is he doing here?

"Young friend Lin Tian,"

Uncle Deng spoke, his voice hoarse but still relatively calm, "We have no grudge against you or the Lian Sheng Group, so what are you doing here?"

Lin Tian turned to look at him, stared for a long time, and slowly a smile appeared on his lips. "No grudges? Uncle Deng, you're not right."

He took a step forward: "The matter of Wo Shing is related to me. You have no grudge against me, but your desire to kill Big D is related to me."

Uncle Deng's pupils contracted slightly.

Big D?

He guessed that Big D would ask someone for help, but he didn't expect to find this jinx.

"How much did Big D give you? I'll pay double."

Lin Tian laughed, "Uncle Deng, you're getting senile. After I kill you, your money will be my money. I'll just go find Big D and collect his money. Isn't double the money better?"

"Shameless!"

Uncle Deng was furious. He never expected Lin Tian to be so greedy, not even afraid of consuming himself to death.

Lin Tian didn't answer. He slung the axe over his shoulder, tilted his head, and smiled at Uncle Deng, but the smile sent a chill down Uncle Deng's spine.

"Uncle Deng, what goes around comes around. You must have killed quite a few people to get to where you are today."

Don't worry, I'm a kind-hearted person, I'll go easy on you. Just be more careful in your next life.

Uncle Deng's face changed, and his lips trembled with fear.

Lin Tian raised his axe: "Everyone, let's go."

Several old men screamed and ran towards the door.

But the door couldn't be opened; it was as if it had been welded shut.

They pounded on the door and kicked it, but the door didn't budge.

They ran to the window, but it wouldn't open.

"Help! Help me!"

The fat old man leaned against the window and shouted outside.

Pedestrians came and went on the street outside. Some people looked up for a moment, then looked down and continued walking.

Nobody paid him any attention; nobody heard him.

"Stop shouting."

Lin Tian stood in the center of the room, his axe planted on the ground. "The people outside can't hear you. None of you will leave tonight."

The skinny old man turned around, knelt down with a thud, and kowtowed desperately, "Young friend Lin Tian, ​​I beg you to spare me. I have a lot of money, I'll give it all to you."

"I'll give you money too!"

Another old man knelt down as well, pleading, "You can have as much as you want, just please spare me."

Uncle Deng remained motionless, his face grave.

"Uncle Deng! Say something!" the fat old man shouted at him.

Uncle Deng's lips moved, but he still didn't speak.

Lin Tian's axe fell.

"Pfft!"

Screams echoed from the room, one after another.

Someone begged for mercy: "Don't kill me, I'll tell you anything, I'll give you all the money!"

Someone cursed, "Big D, you'll die a horrible death! Lin Tian, ​​you'll die a horrible death too! I'll be waiting for you down there!"

Someone wailed, "I don't want to die yet! I'm still young, only in my sixties, and I still have a beautiful wife I haven't had enough time with..."

Uncle Deng remained silent throughout.

He didn't want to see those old bastards who were usually so arrogant, but now were practically begging to kneel down and call him grandpa.

"Uncle Deng! Say something! Please beg him to let us go!" The fat old man's voice was already hoarse.

Uncle Deng ignored him.

He himself was like a clay bodhisattva crossing a river, barely able to save himself. How could he possibly survive by begging for mercy?

Obviously not.

He looked out the window at the flashing neon lights, the bustling street, the scantily clad women standing at doorways soliciting customers, and the drunken men walking by with their arms around each other's shoulders.

Vendors push carts selling offal, fish balls, and egg waffles, their shouts rising and falling.

The nights in this city are always so lively.

But these old men are going to die.

"So noisy!"

Lin Tian's voice wasn't loud, and the crying in the room stopped abruptly. Several corpses lay on the floor.

The few remaining old men lay on the ground, trembling all over.

Blood was still dripping from Lin Tian's axe as he mocked, "You're all veterans of Wo Luen Shing, usually so imposing. How come you've lost even your last shred of backbone at this moment?"

The fat old man raised his head, his face a mixture of snot and tears. "I...I don't want to die..."

……