Chapter 14: You Just Saw That Jiang Yu Was Soft and Easy to Bully

Lifting the curtain, a wave of muggy heat laced with sweat washed over him, accompanied by the sizzling sound of meat searing on a hot iron plate.

Gazing at the shirtless man lying flat on the floor, He Lian offered a slight smile and raised his eyebrows. Following the combat boot planted on the man’s back, his eyes traveled upward until they met a pair of eagle-like eyes.

The person picked up a pair of red-hot iron tongs from the brazier once more, scrutinizing them for a few seconds before forcefully slamming them against the man’s exposed back. A sharp, earsplitting sizzle echoed through the tent, yet the man bit his lip hard, refusing to let out a single sound.

He Lian’s gaze shifted to the right, landing on Xie Qingzhou.

He was wearing a black leather jacket, open over his bare chest, his rugged muscle contours covered in gruesome scars. He kicked the table in front of him, causing the Glock pistol resting on it to clatter loudly.

Xie Qingzhou: “He Lian, you’ve got nerve, entering the camp completely alone.”

Draping his suit jacket aside, He Lian sat down across from him, unhurriedly rolling up his shirt sleeves. His casual and unruffled posture only made Xie Qingzhou increasingly irritated.

“Linking arms with outlaw bandits across the border—Xie, you’re even more capable than I imagined.”

Hearing this, Xie Qingzhou cast a sideways glance: “Saga is an old friend of mine.”

Composed and relaxed, He Lian pulled a cigarette from the pack on the wooden table, bent down to light it against the brazier, and then placed it between his lips, taking a deep drag: “Since he’s your old friend, tell him to let my man go.”

Saga clicked his tongue in boredom and tossed the iron tongs aside, sending a cloud of pungent charcoal smoke billowing from the brazier. He then kicked the man beneath his feet toward He Lian.

The man finally caught his breath, raising his head and opening his swollen eyes: “…President.”

He Lian reached out and hauled him up: “Go outside first.”

Clearly worried about He Lian’s situation, the man gave a subtle shake of his head out of sight of the other two.

Seeing this, He Lian called Zhuang Yumian inside to drag him out.

“Mr. He, I hope your people won’t keep lurking around my camp,” Saga threw a toothpick into his mouth, “We had an agreement back then—in this lawless gray zone, we don’t interfere with each other.”

He Lian let out an uninhibited laugh: “Is that so? Within a hundred miles of the Wofo Gold Mine, none of your Sandworm men are allowed to show their faces—that was also a promise you made. Who was it that broke the rules first?”

Saga chewed twice, spat out the toothpick, and slapped Xie Qingzhou on the back.

Leaning forward, Xie Qingzhou laid everything out in the open: “He Lian, you stay the fuck away from my sister!”

He Lian exhaled a cloud of smoke, his refined facial features momentarily obscured by the mist, before his sarcastic tone cut through it: “Go tell that to Xie Xiran. It’s not like I begged her to throw herself at me.”

Xie Qingzhou’s thick eyebrows knitted together fiercely. He snatched up the Glock on the table and pointed it right at the man in front of him. At the thought of his sister going to extremes for He Lian, he wished he could pull the trigger this instant!

Far from being frightened, He Lian taunted him instead: “Think it through. If you shoot, that infatuated sister of yours will be utterly heartbroken.”

He even let out a carefree laugh: “Qingzhou, you have no idea how much she likes me.”

BANG!

The deafening gunshot sent a shockwave through the crowd outside. The bullet punched straight through the tent fabric. Zhuang Yumian whipped around and charged inside with her men!

Raising her SIG Sauer P229 pistol, she anxiously surveyed the interior!

“President!”

Veins bulged violently on Xie Qingzhou’s forehead from rage, his lips turning purple as he gritted his teeth. He then nodded: “Fine, He Lian. As expected of a man who would kill his own eldest cousin just for the succession rights. Fine, you’re ruthless!”

With a hardened face, he tossed the gun aside, kicked over the brazier on the floor, and marched outward, shoving roughly past Zhuang Yumian on his way out.

The woman furrowed her willow-shaped eyebrows slightly, looking over at He Lian.

The man was taking a final drag of his cigarette. Beneath his dark hair, his eyes remained completely calm. The bullet hole was less than five centimeters away from him, and the sunlight entering through it brushed past the tip of his ear, highlighting its red tint.

“President, that’s enough.”

Zhuang Yumian lowered her voice.

He Lian tossed the cigarette butt into a steel cup on the wooden table, picked up his jacket from the side, and stood up, his tall shadow falling over Saga’s face.

He offered a faint smile: “Since the matter is resolved, I hope Mr. Saga abides by our rules from now on. No matter how good your relationship with Xie Qingzhou is, I assume you don’t want another clash with the Fortress.”

Saga worked his jaw, raising his eyebrows in a subtle gesture.

He genuinely regretted it this time. Taking Xie Qingzhou’s money to provoke He Lian’s Peacekeeping Union had cost him dozens of men and two containers of ammunition—an absolute loss.

He had even been reamed out by his chief commander.

To top it all off, he had to return the only subordinate he managed to capture back to He Lian.

“Mr. He,” Saga stood up, extending a rough, calloused hand, “Safe travels.”

He Lian swept a glance at the dirt on his palm, turned, and exited the tent.

Zhuang Yumian hurriedly checked him over for injuries.

He Lian didn’t move, feeling somewhat irritable from the scorching sun. He raised his head, his eyes squinting slightly.

Suddenly remembering the dense fog of Yangcheng, he brushed off Zhuang Yumian’s hand and muttered under his breath:

“Why does it never rain in Jinzhou?”

9:00 PM, The Fortress.

He Lian stood beneath the shower, his indifferent gaze fixed on the rising steam around him, feeling somewhat absentminded.

He must have been possessed.

Whenever he saw white smoke or fog, he would think of that little fool.

Irritated, he shut off the water valve, wrapped himself in a bathrobe, and walked straight into the lounge. Shen Jin was sitting upright on the sofa waiting for him. Hearing his approach, he looked up: “What was Xie Qingzhou up to? It’s been so many years—how did he get mixed up with Sandworm again?”

He Lian dragged his slippers, leaving a trail of water prints on the floor: “For his sister.”

Shen Jin: “Xie Xiran?”

He Lian sat down beside him, throwing his head back and extending his hand, his long fingers making a slight curling gesture.

With a look of disgust, Shen Jin picked up a cigarette from the table and shoved it to him: “Can’t you just make things clear to Xie Xiran?”

He Lian lowered his head to light the cigarette, water droplets from his messy hair falling onto the back of his hand and sliding down his bulging veins.

Hearing this, he furrowed his brows: “How much clearer do I need to make it? I practically held a gun to her forehead, and do you know what she said? She said even if I, He Lian, were a pile of shit, she wouldn’t care!”

Shen Jin: “…”

“Buzzing around my ear like a fly every day, unable to even speak coherently,” He Lian muttered under his breath, “She’s not even as good as a… fool.”

The last word dropped into a barely audible murmur.

“Fuck.”

He Lian leaned back, wishing he could smoke the entire cigarette in a single drag.

Shen Jin rolled his eyes behind his specs. Mentioning Jiang Yu, he pulled out a testing report: “By the way, the results for that tin of paint you had me send for analysis are out.”

He Lian didn’t even look at it: “Read it.”

Shen Jin: “Do I owe you something? Read it yourself!”

Did he really treat him, the young master of the Shen family, as his personal secretary?

He slammed the report onto the table.

He Lian remained motionless.

Shen Jin took a deep breath, picked the file back up, cursed him under his breath, and took another look himself before speaking: “It’s just ordinary oil paint, except something was mixed into it.”

“What was it?”

“A rut-inducing spray used for breeding boars.”

“…”

The corner of He Lian’s mouth twitched slightly.

Breeding boars.

Something meant for breeding boars got used on him.

Shen Jin, on the other hand, had no strong reaction—after all, when the report came out, he and the technicians had already laughed themselves silly.

“Actually, this kind of stuff doesn’t have the same effect on humans,” he said, “Even in large doses.”

He Lian cast a side glance at him: “You sound like you’re implying something.”

Shen Jin slammed the report onto his chest: “So, just admit it, He Lian—you weren’t affected at all that night. You just saw that Jiang Yu was soft and easy to bully, and your inner beast took over.”

“He Lian, you’re a real fucking bastard.”

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