Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Da Zhuang stood there, watching the figures disappear completely into the snow-covered wilderness, before slowly loosening his grip on the five-shot burst.

With a clang, the five shots hit the broken bricks at his feet.

Da Zhuang swayed, and the excruciating pain in his left shoulder surged up like a tide, cold sweat instantly streaming down his temples.

"Dazhuang!" Da Niu and Jianmin rushed over, supporting Lao Xu.

Old Xu had completely collapsed by now, his head lolling against Da Niu's shoulder, his lips a frightening purple, his eyelids drooping, and he could only manage a few weak sounds coming out of his throat.

"I'm fine, quick, get in the car!"

Dazhuang ignored his shoulder, wiped the mud off his face, and his voice was hoarse:

"Jianmin, start the car! Daniu, press on his wound! Don't let him fall asleep, quick!"

Da Niu cried out and hurriedly pushed Lao Xu's arm upward to make his body more stable, while pressing his other hand firmly against the wet patch of his cotton-padded jacket on Lao Xu's shoulder. As soon as he pressed down, blood immediately seeped out from between his fingers.

"Hold!"

Big Bull's eyes reddened. "Old Xu, hang in there! Hang in there! Your mother is still waiting for you at home!"

Jianmin had already taken off running, scattering broken bricks and mud everywhere.

Li Baotian also rushed forward, frantically tearing off the hem of his undershirt, ripping off a long strip of cloth, and desperately tying it around Lao Xu's shoulders, cursing incessantly:

"Tighten it! Tighten it! Don't let the blood rush out!"

Old Xu felt a sharp pain in his throat from the sudden tightening, but his eyelids only twitched; he couldn't even utter a complete cry.

Just as several people were frantically carrying people out of the ruins, Zhao Shanhai, who had been huddled by the pile of bricks groaning, suddenly screamed:

"Take me with you—! You can't leave me here!"

He had been shot in the waist by Scarface, and half of his cotton-padded coat was already soaked in blood. Now, in his agitation, the wound twitched, and he turned pale with pain, but he still stubbornly shuffled forward halfway.

"Holy crap... I'm bleeding too! Don't focus on him yet!"

No one cares about him.

Da Niu and Jianmin supported Lao Xu, focusing only on carrying him out, while Li Baotian kept his head down, pressing on his wound, without even turning his head to the side.

Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, Zhao Shanhai's neck veins bulged, and his voice became shrill and urgent:

"No matter how worthless I am, I'm still Zhao Shanhe's own brother! Aren't you all working for him now?! If you dare to leave me here unattended, how are you going to explain this to him later?!"

Upon hearing these words, Da Niu's eyes immediately turned red.

He shoved Lao Xu into Jianmin's arms, then turned and pounced on him like a bull with its mane standing on end.

"Say it again!"

Da Niu grabbed Zhao Shanhai by the collar, yanked him up from the ground, and punched him hard in the face covered in blood and mud!

boom!

Zhao Shanhai's head snapped to the side, blood spurting from his mouth. He was completely stunned by the punch.

Before he could even catch his breath, Da Niu swung his hand back and slammed it hard into his cheek.

"You bastard! If you hadn't fired that shot at Liang Jiajun first, would the scene be in this mess?! Would Lao Xu have taken that bullet?! Would Da Zhuang be in this state?! I want to fucking kill you right now! You still dare to call yourself Brother Shanhe's brother? What kind of beast are you?!"

Zhao Shanhai was so badly beaten that he could barely stand. He crashed into a pile of bricks, screamed in pain, and covered his face as he shrank back.

Da Niu was still furious, his eyes bloodshot, and he raised his foot to kick Zhao Shan Hai in the stomach again, ready to kill him.

"That's enough!"

Jianmin suddenly took a step forward, grabbed Da Niu's arm, and stood firmly between the two of them, yelling at Da Niu's forehead:

"Hey, Da Niu! Aren't you going to care about Lao Xu anymore? Why waste your energy on this piece of trash!"

Da Niu's crazy energy hadn't dissipated yet; his fists were clenched so tightly they cracked, and he was still trying to hook his feet forward.

"Come and lend a hand!"

Li Baotian knelt on the muddy ground, pressing his hands hard against the bleeding wound on Lao Xu's shoulder. His knuckles were frighteningly white from the excessive force.

He turned around abruptly and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Old Xu is dying! If you keep fighting with that beast, he'll really die! Come quick!"

That shout was like a bucket of ice water poured over a bull's head.

Da Niu shuddered violently, and half of the red light in his eyes instantly faded.

He gave Zhao Shanhai, who was huddled in the pile of bricks, one last fierce glare, and spat a mouthful of bloody saliva on the ground:

"You bastard, you just wait!"

After cursing, he wiped the mud off his face and scrambled to Old Xu's side.

"Old Xu! Old Xu, open your eyes!"

Da Niu's voice suddenly became tearful.

He spread his arms, cooperating with Li Baotian, and carefully lifted Old Xu's heavy body onto his back, muttering to himself:

"Hang in there, Shanhe will be back soon. We're on our way to the hospital, you'll be fine..."

Zhao Shanhai's face was numb from the beating Da Niu had given him, and he was now huddled in a pile of bricks, gasping for breath.

He watched as Da Zhuang and the others surrounded and protected Lao Xu as they retreated. The resentment and fear in his heart twisted into a knot, but he dared not use the name "Zhao Shanhe's younger brother" again.

Only then did Dazhuang turn his head and coldly glance at the lump of rotten flesh in the mud.

"Take it away."

Da Zhuang's voice was terribly hoarse, as if he had swallowed burning coals in his throat:

"Throw it in the trunk, leave it for Brother Shanhe to deal with personally."

Da Niu spat out the blood and foam from his mouth, said nothing, and used one hand to grab Zhao Shanhai by the back of his collar, dragging him like a dead dog across the ground full of broken bricks and mud.

The wound on Zhao Shanhai's waist rubbed against the hard brick corner, causing him to scream in agony, like a pig being slaughtered.

"Ah—! Help...it hurts so much!"

Just as the group of people braved the wind and snow to reach the entrance of the abandoned brick factory, two bright beams of light pierced straight through the snow curtain.

The jeep swerved violently, kicking up mud and snow half a person's height, and came to a screeching halt right in front of everyone.

The car door was flung open with a bang, and Zhao Shanhe stepped out with a gust of cold air that seemed to solidify into a tangible form.

Zhao Shanhe's gaze first swept over Dazhuang, whose face was covered in blood, and finally fixed on Lao Xu, whose face was ashen and whose life or death was unknown.

"Zhao Shanhe...save me...I'm dying..."

Zhao Shanhai lifted his face, swollen like a pig's head, from the mud, and cried out in despair as if he had seen a savior.

Zhao Shanhe didn't even glance at him, and simply walked past him.

He walked up to Old Xu, reached out and checked his pulse. When he felt the faint beat, his hard, sword-like eyebrows relaxed slightly.

Then, he turned to look at Dazhuang, his voice as deep and guttural as a millstone in hell:

"Thanks for your hard work."

Those three simple words struck Da Zhuang's heart, causing this man who had bled but not shed tears to suddenly feel a surge of emotion in his eyes.

"Don't worry, he won't die!"

Zhao Shanhe suddenly turned around and waved his hand:

"Jianmin, drive. Dazhuang, sit in the passenger seat. The rest of you, cram into the back! Li Baotian, keep pressing on the wound, don't let go for even a second!"

"What about Zhao Lao Er?" Da Niu pointed to the trunk.

Zhao Shanhe slowly turned his head, looking down at his younger brother.

When Zhao Shanhai met those emotionless eyes, he froze in fear, and even the words of pleading stuck in his throat.

"Throw it in."

Zhao Shanhe's voice was cold and devoid of any human warmth:

"Whether he lives or dies is up to his own fate."