A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Chapter 156 Handing Over the Person

Su Bai narrowed his eyes slightly, a glint of light flashing in them, making it impossible to discern what he was thinking.

After a long silence, he spoke.

His voice remained calm and even, without any inflection: "Send men to the Blood Blade Gang and hand over Zhong Ji by today."

Tang Dingzhen was taken aback, then said, "Yes! I'll send someone right away—"

'

"Tell them," Su Bai interrupted him, her gaze still fixed in that direction, her voice still calm, "If they don't hand it over, they'll face the consequences."

You will be responsible for the consequences.

These four words, spoken lightly, felt like a boulder crashing into everyone's heart when he uttered them.

The courtyard suddenly fell silent.

The constables coming and going all stopped and looked this way. The sun was still shining brightly, the silver ingots were still dazzling, and the stench of blood in the air was still strong, but everyone felt that the surroundings had suddenly become a bit colder.

Tang Dingzhen opened her mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

He recalled the fate of the Golden Knife Alliance.

One hundred and twenty-seven people were executed on the spot.

One hundred and eighty-five people were captured.

A gang was wiped out overnight.

Now, Lord Su has to tell the Blood Blade Gang: Hand over Zhong Ji, or face the consequences.

Will the Blood Blade Gang pay?

If you don't pay—

Tang Dingzhen dared not think any further.

All he knew was that the morale that the Zhenfu Division had lost over the years seemed to have truly returned.

And they came back with the smell of blood.

Su Bai remained standing in front of the pile of silver ingots, gazing intently into the distance.

Who gave him permission to harbor a fugitive?

He thought coldly to himself.

Did you really think I wouldn't keep killing?

Inside the Blood Blade Gang's inner chamber, everyone was thoroughly intoxicated.

This is an extremely elegant hall. An eight-immortal table is placed in the center, and the table is full of wine and dishes.

The braised beef is sliced ​​as thin as paper, arranged neatly, with clear marbling and a dark red sheen from the sauce around the edges.

The braised pork knuckle was glistening with oil, and the dark brown skin trembled slightly when touched with chopsticks.

The steamed mandarin fish has bulging eyes, and its body is covered with finely shredded scallions and ginger. Wisps of steam rise, carrying the fresh aroma of the fish.

There are also a few seasonal side dishes, some green and some white. The green ones are blanched spinach with glistening water droplets hanging on the leaves.

The white ones are thinly sliced ​​bamboo shoots, which look refreshing.

The wine is a 2,000-year-old Zhuyeqing liquor. When poured into a celadon cup, the liquid is crystal clear with a faint amber luster.

The aroma of wine mingled with the fragrance of food, filling the hall and giving people a slightly tipsy feeling.

Liang Yan picked up his wine cup, raised it to Zhong Ji, and said with a smile, "Brother Zhong, have another cup. This wine is a fine vintage that I've kept in my cellar for many years, and I usually can't bear to take it out. Today, with Brother Zhong here, it's only right that we share it."

His smile was sincere and warm, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly with his smile, appearing especially gentle in the candlelight.

Zhong Ji silently picked up his wine cup, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

He had lost count of how many cups this was.

The wine burned through my throat as I drank it, but the numbness on my face seemed to lessen a bit.

Under the light, his complexion looked better than before. It was no longer ashen and deathly pale, but had a hint of color in it. His eyes also had a bit more life in them, no longer as empty and lifeless as when he first arrived.

"Excellent!" Liang Yan clapped his hands and laughed, the sound of his palms striking each other crisply. "Brother Zhong truly has a great capacity for alcohol! Someone, pour him another cup!"

The servant standing nearby quickly stepped forward and filled the wine jars for the two of them. The wine poured into the cups with a crisp "ding-dong" sound, and the aroma of the wine filled the air, splashing up tiny bubbles under the lamplight.

Zhong Ji looked at the wine cup before him, the liquid swirling slightly, reflecting the candlelight above. He suddenly spoke: "Chief Liang—"

'

"Hey—" Liang Yan waved his hand to interrupt him, gesturing lightly in front of him with his palm, feigning displeasure, "What's with all this talk about gang leader? That's too formal. I'm a few years older than you, if you don't mind, just call me Brother Liang."

As he spoke, he leaned forward slightly, gazing earnestly at Zhong Ji with eyes full of sincerity and expectation.

Zhong Ji was taken aback.

He gazed at Liang Yan's sincere smiling face, a smile warm and gentle under the lamplight, his eyes full of concern, without a trace of pretense. His throat bobbed, his Adam's apple rising and falling a few times, before he finally said, "Brother Liang."

The moment those two words were uttered, something seemed to subtly change.

A flicker of satisfaction flashed in Liang Yan's eyes, but it vanished in an instant, quickly replaced by a deeper warmth. He raised his wine cup, the liquid inside swirling slightly: "Good! To that 'brother,' let's drink another one!"

The two drank together and finished their drinks.

Zhong Ji put down his wine cup, the bottom of which touched the table with a very soft "tap".

He exhaled a long breath, the air thick with the aroma of alcohol.

He felt the stiffness in his body loosen up a bit; his shoulders were no longer so tense, his back was no longer so stiff, and the heavy weight on his heart seemed to lighten a little.

Perhaps—staying wouldn't be so bad?

He had a vague idea in his mind. Liang Yan treated him sincerely, and the Blood Blade Gang was a good place to go.

His physical abilities came in handy, and he no longer had to hide like a stray dog.

As for the Golden Knife Alliance, the thought of it caused him another pang of pain, as if his heart were being gripped tightly by a hand.

Those brothers, those brothers who drank and ate together, who risked their lives together, are now—

He closed his eyes, his eyelids trembling slightly, and shook his head violently to banish the thought.

That's it, that's it.

The dead cannot be brought back to life, but the living must continue to live.

He opened his eyes, a glint of tears flashing within them before disappearing.

He was about to say something when he cried out, "Report—!"

A sudden, urgent announcement came from outside the door, its sharp, piercing voice shattering the tranquility of the inner hall.

Then came hurried footsteps, approaching from afar, thumping heavily on the blue bricks under the eaves.

Liang Yan frowned, his brows furrowing into a knot.

He was enjoying a drink with Zhong Ji, his cheeks slightly flushed, the atmosphere was just right, but this announcement abruptly interrupted him.

He slammed his wine cup down unhappily, the cup hitting the table with a dull thud. He glanced towards the doorway, his eyes filled with obvious impatience.

A little boy stumbled in, his steps faltering. He almost tripped at the threshold, leaning forward before finally regaining his balance.

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and fine beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. Just as he was about to speak, Liang Yan said coldly, "What's the panic?" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried obvious displeasure. His eyes pierced him like knives. "Can't you see I'm entertaining a distinguished guest?"

The leader was taken aback, only then noticing that Zhong Ji was sitting opposite him.

He opened his mouth, but swallowed the words that were about to come out. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he looked at Zhong Ji and Liang Yan with a flickering gaze, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. His hands nervously gripped the hem of his clothes.

Liang Yan frowned even more, his brows almost forming a deep frown.

He certainly saw the leader's expression; he clearly had something to say, but was holding back because Zhong Ji was present.

"Speak," he said in a deep voice, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The underling stammered, "Boss, this—" He avoided looking in Zhong Ji's direction.

"What's this?" Liang Yan's face darkened, and he slammed his hand on the table with a dull thud, causing the cup to rattle slightly and spill a few drops of wine. "Brother Zhong is no stranger! Speak your mind!"

The underling was startled, his body trembling. He quickly bowed and said, "Yes! Reporting to the leader, the Garrison Command has arrived!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the inner hall fell silent.

The silence came suddenly, as if someone had abruptly taken away all sound.

Liang Yan's hand froze in mid-air, his five fingers stiffening slightly.

Zhong Ji's shoulder jolted suddenly, as if he had been electrocuted, and his face instantly changed from a slightly flushed, tipsy look to deathly pale.

He instinctively stood up, but his movement was too hasty, and the chair slid back half a foot with a "creak," the chair legs scraping against the ground with a screeching sound.

A look of fear flashed in his eyes, his pupils suddenly contracted, and his lips trembled slightly.

Liang Yan glanced at him quickly, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment, and cursed inwardly.

He quickly raised his hand and pressed down in the air, reassuringly saying, "Brother Zhong, don't panic, sit down and talk. In my Blood Blade Gang, no one can touch you."

His voice was steady and powerful, carrying an unquestionable certainty.

Zhong Ji paused for a moment, then slowly sat down, his movements as stiff as a rusty machine.

He sat in the chair, but his body remained taut, like a fully drawn bowstring that could snap at any moment.

His hands were on his knees, his fingers gripping his pants so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Liang Yan turned to the foreman and said in a deep voice, "The people from the Garrison Command are here? What are they here for?"

The henchman swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, and said cautiously, "They—they say they want to see the gang leader and they want us to hand over Zhong—"

As he spoke, he glanced at Zhong Ji again, but when his gaze fell upon Zhong Ji's pale face, he didn't dare to continue.

"Hand over what?" Liang Yan asked knowingly, his face darkening and his eyes turning sinister.

"Hand over Elder Zhong Jizhong," the underling said, his voice trailing off. "Still talking—still talking—"

"What else is there to say?" Liang Yan pressed, leaning forward slightly.

"They also said that if you don't pay, you'll have to bear all the consequences."

You are solely responsible for all consequences.

These six words, falling into the inner hall, were like six stones thrown into calm water, stirring up huge waves.

Zhong Ji's face turned even more pale, as white as paper, and his lips were completely bloodless.

He clenched his fists and placed them on his knees, his knuckles turning white and making a slight "crackling" sound. His chest heaved violently, and his breathing was rapid and heavy.

Liang Yan remained silent for a moment, his expression shifting unpredictably.

Suddenly, he smiled.

The laughter started low, rolling out of his throat with a hoarse tremor, then grew louder and louder, turning into a long, unrestrained laugh.

He threw his head back and laughed, his shoulders shaking with laughter, tears welling up in his eyes.

He pointed at the door, laughing so hard he was doubled over, breathless: "Bear the consequences? What a fine 'bear the consequences'! Who does Su Bai think he is? Does he think that killing Jin Tangjing will allow him to mess with my Blood Blade Gang?"

He abruptly stopped laughing, his smile vanished instantly, his face darkened, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes, sharp as a blade.

He slammed his hand on the table, making a loud "bang": "Arrogant!"

The angry shout was like a thunderclap, causing the wine cups on the table to jump slightly, the wine sloshing around and almost spilling.

Liang Yan's voice echoed and buzzed in the inner hall.

Zhong Ji was stunned, his mouth agape, staring straight at Liang Yan.

The junior leader was also stunned, standing there dumbfounded, at a loss for what to do.

Liang Yan stood there, his green robe fluttering slightly without any wind.

His face was full of anger, his eyebrows were raised, but his eyes revealed an indescribable arrogance, the domineering air of someone who had long been in a position of power.

He turned to Zhong Ji, softening his tone, but his voice remained steady and forceful, brooking no argument: "Brother Zhong, you can relax and enjoy your drink. I'm going to go and see what these Zhenfu Division are capable of, daring to spout such nonsense in front of my Blood Blade Gang!"

As he spoke, he lifted his foot and walked out. The soles of his boots thumped heavily on the floor, each step making a deep, muffled sound.

Zhong Ji hurriedly stood up, the chair creaking as it slid backward: "Brother Liang, I—"

"Sit down!" Liang Yan said without turning his head, his voice brooking no argument, carrying a commanding tone. "You are my guest, and I will protect you. A mere garrison commander is not worthy of my, Liang Yan's, bowing!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he strode across the threshold and disappeared into the darkness outside. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded away until they were completely gone.

The inner room returned to silence, with only the candlelight burning quietly inside the lampshade, occasionally bursting out a spark or two with a soft "crackling" sound.

Zhong Ji stared blankly in the direction where his figure disappeared, his lips moved, opening and closing silently a few times, but in the end he couldn't say a word.

He slowly sat down, and the chair creaked.

He picked up the wine cup in front of him and drank it all in one gulp.

The wine has gone cold.

The cool liquor slid down my throat, carrying a hint of bitterness.

Liang Yan strode out of the inner hall, through the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the empty space.

With each step he took, the arrogant look on his face gradually faded, as if a layer of disguise had been removed.

His brows relaxed, his gaze shifted from sharp to deep, and the cold smile on his lips gradually disappeared, replaced by tightly pursed lips.

When he reached a secluded spot, his pace slowed down, becoming slower and slower until he finally stopped in the middle of the corridor.

He stood there, his brows furrowed tightly, a knot forming between his eyebrows.

Why did the Zhenfu Division arrive so quickly?

He had assumed that news of Zhong Ji's escape would take at least a day or two to reach the Zhenfu Division.

By then, he would have already arranged everything, hiding Zhong Ji away completely, and then spreading the word that Zhong Ji had already fled far away, and who could do anything about it?

But now—

How many hours has it been? Just as dawn broke, the people from the Zhenfu Division came to our door.

How did they know?

Could there be a mole within the gang?

Liang Yan's heart tightened, and he scanned his surroundings warily.

The corridor was deserted, with only the morning light filtering through the carved windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

But he quickly dismissed the idea. Zhong Ji arrived before dawn, coming in through the back door; apart from a few trusted confidants, no one saw him.

Those trusted confidants have been with him for many years; they would never betray him.

What happened?

He walked slowly and heavily, lost in thought. His boots pounded on the blue bricks with a dull thud, one step after another. The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.