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

Heixiazi Gully, north slope.

The cold wind swirled snowflakes, howling and blowing down my neck.

Old Master Wang sat behind a large, sheltered rock, clutching a wine bottle in his hand, occasionally taking a swig of strong liquor.

Fueled by the alcohol, he tried to press down on the throbbing scar on his forehead—it was from a piece of flying wood when Zhao Shanhe's convoy ran over the checkpoint last time, which almost blinded him in one eye.

Behind him, about thirty people were squatting scattered around.

This group of people is not a well-trained army; they are just a rabble.

Half of them were relatives from Wangjiatun; they were there to help out.

The other half was a good-for-nothing from the next village, a thug hired by Master Wang with two boxes of cigarettes and five catties of meat.

The guys hunched their necks, holding pickaxe handles, shovels, and a few homemade shotguns used for hunting wild rabbits.

"Third Brother."

A man wearing a thick cotton-padded coat came over. This was his cousin, Wang Er, who was considered the "strategist" of the group.

Wang Er glanced at the dark mountain road and trembled slightly:

"Are we really okay doing this?"

"I heard that convoy has connections in the county. If they really hurt someone or smash the car, do you think those thugs at the police station will let us off the hook?"

"What's there to be afraid of!"

Old Master Wang stuck the wine bottle into the snow, his eyes bloodshot—from anger and resentment.

"Second brother, use your brain."

"It's dozens of miles of mountain road from here to the commune police station, there's not even a telephone line! By the time they report it, and Lei Zi comes galloping over on his sidecar motorcycle, it'll be too late!"

Old Master Wang touched the scar on his forehead, gritting his teeth:

"Besides, we're not killing anyone!"

"We're just after money! We're just here to vent our anger!"

"Once the car stops, smash the window, drag the guy out, and break his leg to teach them a lesson! Then unload the cargo and head into the mountains. There's a lot of people involved, so who knows who did it?"

Upon hearing "no killing" and "distribution of goods," the eyes of the group of hooligans who were initially hesitant immediately lit up.

As long as you don't get into a murder case and can still make some money, this business is worth doing!

"They're here! Third Master! There are lights!"

The nephew on guard duty suddenly shouted.

Old Master Wang suddenly stood up and looked towards the end of the mountain path.

Sure enough, two blinding beams of headlights cleaved through the wind and snow like sharp swords.

"Cheer up, all of you!"

Third Master Wang spat viciously:

"They broke through last time because I wasn't prepared. This time, I've prepared a 'Dragon-Severing Ravine' for them! Let's see where they can run now!"

No sooner had the words been spoken than the roaring sound was already upon them.

The "second vehicle" that led the charge didn't slow down at all, and with a reckless and domineering momentum, it directly ran over the well-camouflaged snow road in front of it.

Old Master Wang narrowed his eyes, a sinister smile curling at the corner of his mouth, as he continued counting:

"Three, two, one..."

"Snap—!!!"

A crisp sound of wood breaking was followed by an even duller thud.

"boom!!!"

The seemingly flat snow suddenly collapsed.

The huge truck cab suddenly sank down, as if it had been shoved into the ground by an invisible hand.

The inertia caused the rear of the car to jut high into the air before crashing down, shaking the snow off the surrounding trees.

A plume of white smoke instantly billowed from the hood, and the roaring engine seemed to have its neck choked, sputtering twice before stalling.

The whole world fell silent instantly.

"It's done! It's done!!"

On the slope, Old Man Wang jumped three feet high with excitement, smashed the wine bottle in his hand with a "crack," and looked radiant.

He straightened his dog-skin hat, picked up his double-barreled shotgun, and swaggered to the most conspicuous spot on the earthen slope with an arrogant, pigeon-toed gait.

Behind him, more than thirty relatives, acquaintances, and thugs swarmed around him.

At this point, everyone became bolder, puffing out their chests and bellies, wielding their pickaxe handles with great force, as if they couldn't wait to rush up and dismantle the car to sell it for scrap metal.

"Stand up straight, all of you! Show some respect!" Master Wang cleared his throat, feeling like he had reached the pinnacle of his life.

He tapped a dead tree beside him with the barrel of his gun, then, gesturing towards the motionless truck at the bottom of the ditch, adopted a "I'm the one who planted this tree, I'll drive here in this mountain" stance, and roared from the depths of his voice:

"Hey, you in the car! Stop playing dead!"

"Do you know who I am? I'm Master Wang from Heixiazigou!"

"Wasn't that Zhao guy from your gang pretty arrogant last time? Didn't he try to run me over? Come on! Run me over again and show me!"

That shout echoed powerfully, exuding an aura of dominance.

however.

The only response he received was the whistling wind.

The car was deathly silent; not a single word was uttered.

This embarrassed Master Wang greatly. It was like he had performed a great opera on stage, only to have the audience fall asleep.

This feeling of being ignored is even worse than being scolded.

"Hey? You won't listen to reason, so you'll have to suffer the consequences?" Feeling he'd lost face, Third Master Wang turned and waved to his entourage, who were staring at him expectantly.

"See that? Terrified! He's too scared to even speak!"

"You idiot! You always brag about how brave you are? Go! Grab a pickaxe handle and smash the car window! Drag those cowards out here!"

The fool who was named was Wang Sanye's nephew. He was known for his daring to climb onto the roof and tear off the tiles after drinking a couple of ounces of liquor.

But now, looking at that dark, sinister truck, he sobered up a bit.

"Third...Third Uncle..."

Er Lengzi shrank his neck, looking constipated: "This...this isn't good, is it? I heard these guys have some serious weapons..."

"Hard my ass!"

Old Master Wang glared and cursed, "He's just a truck driver! He might carry a wrench at most! You coward, what have you been doing eating all that pig's head meat from me for free? Get out of here!"

Under the imposing gaze of Master Wang, Er Lengzi had no choice but to grit his teeth, pickaxe handle in hand, and shuffle towards the car like a thief.

Everyone held their breath and watched him.

One step, two steps, three steps... Just as Er Lengzi was five meters away from the car door, and was about to raise his pickaxe handle and shout to bolster his courage,

"Click."

A very faint yet very clear metallic clanging sound came from inside the car.

In the stillness of the snowy night, the sound was as piercing as thunder.

Immediately afterwards, a tongue of fire shot out from the dark crack in the car window.

"Da da da!!"

"Oh my god!!!"

Er Lengzi let out a terrible scream, a sound more gruesome than a pig being slaughtered.

The bullet didn't actually hit him; it just created a cloud of snowflakes right in front of his heel.

But this guy was quite the drama queen. He threw the pickaxe handle into the air, his legs went weak, and he performed a 360-degree mid-air spin, slamming his face hard into the frozen ground.

Then, he scrambled back into the crowd, landing on all fours at a speed defying human biomechanics, his crotch instantly soaked, and he was still crying out:

"This isn't a transport convoy! This is a regular army! Uncle, you tricked me!!"

And what about Master Wang, who was posing just now?

The moment the gunshot rang out, "Zuo Shandiao" reacted with remarkable speed.

With a loud "whoosh," he threw himself into a nearby pit used for storing radishes, his butt sticking out and his head buried deep in the snow—a perfect "ostrich-like" escape.

As for the thirty-odd "heroes"? That was even more of a spectacle. Some threw down their torches, covered their ears, and screamed; some collided with each other and tumbled to the ground like tumbleweeds; and two of them huddled together, trembling and shouting, "Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

Just moments ago, the "Wang Family Army" was a formidable force, but after a burst of bullets, they were all reduced to a circus.

……

Ten minutes later.

An absurd drama titled "Who Will Go to Their Death" unfolded in Heixiazigou.

Old Master Wang lay in the radish pit, spitting out the snow from his mouth, his face covered in dust, and poked half his head out.

He glanced at the truck in the distance, still silent as if mocking them, and trembled with rage.

"Second brother! Second brother, where the hell have you been?"

"Brother... I'm behind the tree..." Cousin Wang Er huddled behind a large pine tree, only one terrified eye showing.

"You useless piece of trash! You're usually so calculating, aren't you?"

Old Master Wang lowered his voice and cursed, "Hurry up and think of a plan! So many of us, and you're scared by a single gun? Don't you have any shame if word gets out?"

"Third Brother, this isn't our fault!"

Wang Er, his voice trembling with tears, cried out, "They're using Type 56 semi-automatic rifles! Ours is just a homemade shotgun! The range isn't even enough! Maybe... we should retreat?"

"Get out of here my ass!"

Old Master Wang gritted his teeth: "If we retreat now, our Wangjiatun will become a laughing stock in this area! We must get our revenge!"

His eyes darted around, then he looked at the simpleton next to him who had just wet his pants in fear: "Dumb boy! Go again! This time, walk in an S-shape! They definitely won't be able to hit you!"

"Third Uncle, I'm not going!"

The simpleton shook his head vigorously, tears and snot streaming down his face: "You go! You're the boss, you should lead the charge!"

"Bullshit! I'm the boss! What kind of boss rushes to the front?" Third Master Wang was so angry that he wanted to kick him, but he didn't dare to stick his leg out.

So, a group of grown men lay in the snowdrifts and began a fierce "passing the buck" exercise.

"Zhao Si! Go! I'll give you extra money!"

"No way! Will I even live to spend that money?"

"Hey you, nephew, go!"

"Uncle, my leg is cramping, I really can't move..."

After much back and forth, everyone finally reached a surprising consensus—no one dared to go.

That truck was like a hellish place; whoever got close to it would die.

"What if the police come?" Wang Er suddenly asked the most hurtful question.

These words chilled everyone to the bone.

Yes, now we're in a bind.

They couldn't win in a fight, running away was shameful, and staying put risked them from the police.

Just as Old Master Wang was scratching his head in frustration, wishing he could find a block of tofu to smash his head against, the simpleton, whose crotch was still dripping wet, suddenly had a brilliant idea:

"Third Uncle! I've got it! We don't need to go over there!"

"Let's throw stones! Throw torches! Stand on this slope and throw them down! Burn them! Force them out!"

Upon hearing this, Old Master Wang's eyes lit up instantly, and he slapped his thigh: "Ah! It has to be my nephew! This move is brilliant!"

"Yeah! We're on higher ground! It's safer to throw this thing!"

Upon hearing that they wouldn't have to fight hand-to-hand or face guns, these cowards immediately perked up. Their legs stopped trembling, and they stopped wetting their pants.

"Quick, quick! Pick up stones!"

"Light the torches! Get plenty of pine resin!"

A group of people were busy working in the snow with their buttocks sticking out, their faces once again displaying that lewd smile that said, "I'm so smart, I'm so cruel."

Old Master Wang stood up again, holding a large rock in his hand, and shouted down:

"You little brats! I'm not going to fight you to the death! I'll just set your camp ablaze!"

"I'd rather you turn into roasted pigs or come out and surrender obediently!"

Just when these clowns thought they had the key to victory and were preparing to unleash a barrage of arrows...

Sudden.

Old Master Wang's hand, holding the stone, trembled slightly. No, it wasn't a tremor in his hand.

It was the big rock beneath our feet that was shaking.

"Buzz..."

The torches, which had just been lit, suddenly began to leap wildly. Snow piled up on the trees and fell with a "whoosh," hitting the group all over their heads.

"What's going on? An earthquake?" Er Lengzi was completely bewildered. He was so startled that he dropped the stone in his hand, which hit his foot and made him wince in pain.

Master Wang was also stunned. This tremor was strange.

It's too dense, too heavy. It's like countless wild buffaloes are running rampant underground.

Followed by.

"Boom—!!!"

A deep, oppressive roar, seemingly capable of shattering one's internal organs, rolled in from the dark valley entrance.

That sound was a hundred times more terrifying than the gunshots from before.

That was the pure, roar of an industrial steel monster.

Old Master Wang turned his head subconsciously, his neck stiff as a rusty bearing.

Suddenly, four pale, blinding beams of light appeared on the once pitch-black mountain pass!

"boom--!!"

Two heavy trucks, driving side by side, charged out with a menacing aura that seemed intent on leveling Heixiazi Gully to the ground!

The jagged train tracks in front of the locomotive gleamed with a bloodthirsty light under the bright glare, like a gaping maw ready to swallow the clowns playing house in front of them whole.

The torch in Wang Sanye's hand fell to his crotch with a "thud," scalding him and making him shudder, but he forgot to jump.

He stared wide-eyed at the oncoming torrent of steel, only one thought in his mind:

It’s over.

This time, they've really messed with the living devil.