Chapter Nineteen: The Southern Underworld Kingpin

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Chapter Nineteen: The Kingpin of the Southern Underworld

As soon as Mr. Li spoke, there was an intimidating force in his gaze. Surrounded by so many bodyguards, it was clear his status was quite extraordinary. However, I was certain that he was not a man of the officialdom.

It was no surprise to me when Wang Tingting dispatched the two men so easily. She had single-handedly taken on several Japanese karate dojos in Singapore, forcing two of them to close in disgrace—her skill was evident.

What did surprise me was that Ma Junfeng also acted, and when he did, he showed no mercy. His movements were subtle, almost imperceptible. I saw him covertly crush a piece of yellow paper in his palm, turning it into powder, then lightly run his right thumb over the joints of his other fingers, as if he were reading someone’s fortune. This made me reevaluate him; I hadn’t expected Gu Jing to have such a remarkable disciple.

Mr. Li glanced at me, and I nodded at him with goodwill.

With Wang Tingting and Ma Junfeng by my side, Mr. Li’s curiosity was piqued, and even Brother Long, who had initially regarded us with hostility, seemed to relax.

Truth be told, those two bodyguards went down under Wang Tingting’s hand as if it were nothing, and Ma Junfeng, standing by, gave them the impression that he would act if she failed. To them, Ma Junfeng seemed even more dangerous than Wang Tingting. Yet in just two moves, Wang Tingting brought them to the ground, leaving them shocked—this seemingly delicate girl had bested two of Xinghua Society’s elite bodyguards. The two men, lying defeated, were so stunned that terror crept into their eyes. Raised in the Xinghua Society and trained in all manner of combat, they had never suffered such a swift and inexplicable defeat.

If Wang Tingting and Ma Junfeng wished to harm them, there would have been no room for resistance. Our strength was such that, had we truly meant to deal with them, we would not have bothered with such a roundabout approach. This realization put both Brother Long and Mr. Li at ease.

Mr. Li smiled and said, “Please forgive my friends. They meant no offense, just a misunderstanding. Once I’ve finished my business, let me treat you all to a meal.”

Since he was so gracious, there was nothing for us to be upset about; naturally, we had to show a bit of style ourselves. Mr. Li’s impressive demeanor made me think it would be worthwhile to befriend him.

“It’s often through a clash that acquaintances are made. My name is Changfeng,” I said, extending my right hand sincerely, hoping to make a friend. Mr. Li, clearly a man of character himself, laughed heartily and we shook hands warmly. Brother Long, standing by, raised an eyebrow and then greeted us with equal frankness.

After introducing Wang Tingting and Ma Junfeng, I learned that this friend, Li Feng, was involved in finance and securities—a world I knew little about, having never played the stock market.

Li Feng was in finance, yet all his bodyguards were men of skill; the one called Long Tao seemed to be his personal protector, his every move betraying a military background. To employ such people, Li Feng’s status in the financial world must be considerable.

As for myself, I was in no position to discuss my own affairs, so I simply told them, “If you ever need anything in Guangzhou, you can come to me.”

Such a statement typically came from one of two kinds of people: either idle braggarts, or those from the underworld or official circles. In my case, it was clear which impression I left.

But my words were sincere. Li Feng had made a good impression on me, and I found myself wanting to help—and at the same time, such words helped to obscure my real identity.

Just as our introductions had concluded and we exchanged a few pleasantries, three black Mercedes came speeding toward us. With a swift and almost imperceptible motion, Long Tao stepped in front of Mr. Li protectively.

A group of sharply dressed men in black suits stepped out, each one exuding energy and confidence. After exiting the cars, they formed a circle, hands clasped behind their backs, reminiscent of the mobsters one sees in films.

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A boyish-looking young man—let’s call him a boy, though his face suggested a high schooler, his manner revealed him to be an old hand—stepped out of the car, flicked away his cigarette, and called out excitedly, “Brother Li!”

Seeing me, he started in surprise, then beamed, “Brother Changfeng, you’re here too? What a coincidence—you two already know each other? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have played matchmaker and arranged for Brother Li to meet you in Guangzhou.”

I was momentarily taken aback.

The man stepping out was none other than one of my few friends in Guangzhou, Qu Weiye. Realizing that he was acquainted with Li Feng as well, any misunderstanding between our groups instantly evaporated.

“And there’s a beauty here too,” Qu Weiye exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw Wang Tingting. The lecherous look on his face was unmistakable, his gaze fixed solely on her, momentarily forgetting both me and Li Feng.

Long Tao coughed, then quickly stepped forward to shake Qu Weiye’s hand, thanking him loudly: “Boss Qu, thank you for coming in person. Chairman Huang said he owes you a favor and will repay you with overtime.”

Whether or not Long Tao did it on purpose, he had deftly rescued Wang Tingting from an awkward situation, which increased my regard for him.

Qu Weiye laughed awkwardly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. Regaining his composure, he gestured for his men to open the car door for Li Feng.

As for Qu Weiye himself, he was undoubtedly a rising star, managing one of Guangzhou’s largest gangs, the Hongmen. Everyone who knew him thought it a pity he had taken the gangster’s road, but his success was undeniable—even the old-timers in his organization respected him wholeheartedly.

Our government was unwavering in its crackdown on organized crime, leaving no room for leniency. During repeated campaigns, all the gangs suffered heavy blows. Yet since Qu Weiye had taken over, the police’s efforts had had no impact on his group. Everyone prospered and morale remained high—Hongmen was gradually assuming dominance over the southern underworld.

Li Feng invited me to join him in the car, but Ma Junfeng smiled and declined, indicating the Santana nearby as our own vehicle. With a series of subtle hand gestures behind his back, the two bodyguards lying on the ground suddenly sprang to their feet. After flexing their shoulders in disbelief and giving Wang Tingting a few startled glances, they followed Li Feng into the car.

Qu Weiye waved at me and gestured at Wang Tingting, even winking at her flirtatiously—a display that made me chuckle inwardly. For all the years I’d known him, he hadn’t changed a bit; it seemed he still hadn’t succeeded in wooing that “Snow Beauty,” nor settled his own temperament.

Li Feng and his entourage got into their cars and sped away. The thin-faced and tall bodyguards stuck out their tongues and sighed, “Who on earth are these people? That woman is incredible—I’ve never met a fighter like her in my life.”

Long Tao nodded gravely, “Her strength is formidable, but the one beside her—Ma Junfeng—is even more remarkable. And that Changfeng fellow, he must be hiding great depths. Just who are Boss Qu’s friends?”

Qu Weiye pursed his lips, passed out cigarettes, and lit one for himself before saying, “This is the first time I’ve met Wang Tingting and Ma Junfeng, but I’ve heard Wang Tingting is the daughter of the Provincial Public Security Chief. When she was studying in Singapore, she single-handedly closed down several Japanese dojos. Some of our brothers happened to be in Singapore at the time and heard about it—that’s why I paid her special attention. As for Ma Junfeng, I honestly haven’t heard of him; I’ll have Lai Li Gang look into it.”

Mentioning how Wang Tingting had forced the Japanese dojos in Singapore to close left the surrounding bodyguards visibly shocked. Anyone who opened a dojo abroad was a professional martial artist, making a living with their skills—yet a young woman had dared to challenge several dojos alone, and succeeded. Such feats were enough to inspire awe and admiration in anyone.

Long Tao and Li Feng both applauded. Li Feng, his eyes shining with admiration, declared, “A true heroine! That’s how you deal with the Japanese—let’s see how long their arrogance lasts. This time when we go to Japan, we should learn from this heroine and bankrupt the Inugai and Morita families.”

Li Feng’s words brimmed with confidence, filling the car with an infectious sense of certainty. Long Tao laughed heartily, “Let’s see how long that Inugai kid can swagger.”

Qu Weiye joined in, always one to revel in chaos, especially when it involved dealing with the Japanese. He was a fervent patriot, and recent events in Taiwan and the Diaoyu Islands had left him especially restless. Rubbing his hands together, he chuckled, “Brother Li, if you’re taking on the Japanese, you can count on me. Here in Guangzhou, even the Yamaguchi-gumi can’t escape my grip. Even without Chairman Huang’s request, I’d be first to help you. With Hongmen’s strength, we may not match the Yamaguchi-gumi, but to be safe, I was planning to introduce Brother Changfeng to you—looks like you’ve already met.”

Li Feng thanked him and then asked, “Boss Qu, you seem close with Brother Changfeng. Can you tell me more about him?”

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Qu Weiye nodded, stubbed out his cigarette, and said, “Brother Li, just call me Xiaoqu. These titles are too formal. As for Brother Changfeng, I hardly know where to begin—he’s not a simple man.”

Qu Weiye’s praise was sincere, but his claim that I was not simple stemmed from an extraordinary encounter four years ago, which left him deeply impressed, and it was then our friendship truly began. The story of our meeting is complicated, but in brief, it involved a bizarre incident (so extraordinary that every child in the village disappeared overnight, and the women awoke at midnight to eat chickens and ducks alive, their mouths stained with blood. This will be recounted in another tale, “The Living Sacrifice”—stay tuned). Qu Weiye’s hometown was a small village in Foshan. He had just returned home after university when the incident occurred; I was there at Gu Jing’s invitation to help, and that’s how we met.

Long Tao nodded thoughtfully and sighed, “With two such experts by his side, he himself surely can’t be ordinary.”

Qu Weiye knew Long Tao had misunderstood, but he couldn’t very well explain the details of our past encounter; after all, family scandals should not be aired. He simply said coldly, “Let me put it this way: if you were Brother Changfeng’s enemy, even if you became a ghost, he’d drag you out of hell to settle the score.”

His final words were chilling, sending a shudder through all who heard them.

Yet everyone took it as a metaphor, believing I was simply well-connected, and not that I could literally drag ghosts from hell. Fortunately, that’s all they thought—otherwise, they might have considered me some kind of monster.

Wang Tingting and I both got into the Santana driven by Ma Junfeng, who started the car. His driving was so smooth I barely felt a bump—clearly, he’d received professional training.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed; Wang Tingting looked on in surprise and asked curiously, “Wow, Xiao Ma, I didn’t expect you to be such a good driver. Have you trained for this?”

When I heard her call Ma Junfeng “Xiao Ma,” I couldn’t help but smile wryly, rapping her lightly on the head and teasing, “You’re still just a girl—aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you for calling him that?”

Ma Junfeng gave a simple, honest smile, “It’s fine, Miss Wang can call me whatever she likes. By seniority, I should really call Brother Changfeng ‘Uncle Master.’”

He was right; I was on equal footing with his master, Gu Jing, so as Gu Jing’s disciple, he would naturally address me as Uncle Master. The more he spoke, the better my impression of him—at least he was sincere and straightforward.

Wang Tingting, delighted, burst out laughing, “Exactly, exactly! You should at least call me Uncle Master too!” She broke off, covering her mouth with giggles.

After a round of playful banter, Wang Tingting suddenly remembered what had just happened, and stared at me, “Wait, I didn’t even use a second move, so how did those two fall? Changfeng, was that your doing?”

“I thought you’d never catch on.” I sighed and pointed at Ma Junfeng, “Go ask Xiao Ma about his secret Vajra Mudra techniques.”

Upon hearing “Vajra Mudra,” Wang Tingting’s jaw dropped. “The secret skill of Tibetan Living Buddhas? My god, so what my master said was true! I’ve seen Wing Chun, Tai Chi, the Diamond Finger, Arhat Fist and so on—but I never thought someone could actually master the Vajra Mudra.”

It wasn’t just Wang Tingting who was astonished; even Ma Junfeng, at the wheel, trembled slightly when he heard me. “Brother Changfeng, your knowledge is remarkable—you saw through my Vajra Mudra at a glance. But honestly, I’ve only learned the basics.”

“The basics?” Wang Tingting cried, “You can knock out two men without lifting a finger and you call that the basics?”

It was no wonder she reacted this way; for someone unfamiliar with true Vajra techniques, it was astounding, even mysterious. Seeing me glare at her, Wang Tingting quickly covered her little mouth and fell silent. She would have to get used to such marvels if she was going to follow me in the future.