Chapter 253: Mockery

Chapter 253 Taunting

Lei Biao stood still, the icy night wind causing him to shiver.

Now the alcohol had completely worn off, replaced by a chest full of rage and humiliation with no outlet.

He suddenly lifted his foot and kicked hard at the base of the earthen wall beside him, muttering under his breath, "Tch! Goddammit!"

...

Word that Axe Ridge Stockade had been wiped out by the authorities spread fast through the bandit lairs.

These bandit chiefs, who normally ruled their hills, immediately became restless.

They knew the strength of Axe Ridge, and Lei Biao's fierceness was well known.

Even such a tough nut had been crushed by the authorities—who could guarantee they wouldn't be next?

A wave of panic and a sense of 'there but for fortune' swept through the outlaw world.

To gather intelligence, the leaders of a few nearby influential strongholds, along with their trusted men, gathered at Blackcloud Stockade one after another.

Among them was Zhao Mang, the chief of the Blackwind Stockade.

Blackwind Stockade, Blackcloud Stockade, and the destroyed Axe Ridge had originally been one family, but years ago, due to internal strife and disputes, they had split off and each claimed their own mountain.

Lei Biao and Zhang Heita got along decently enough, at least on the surface.

But his relationship with Zhao Mang of Blackwind Stockade was truly that of mortal enemies.

The main reason for the split back then was Lei Biao's hot temper clashing with Zhao Mang's sneaky and petty nature; they nearly came to blows on the spot.

After the split, far from easing, the relationship only intensified. The two stockades were constantly at odds.

If you didn't hit my merchant train, I stole your prize mark. The list of grievances was endless, and both sides were itching to kill each other.

But in recent years, Axe Ridge had developed better and was stronger, often able to suppress Blackwind Stockade.

Now that everyone had gathered at Blackcloud Stockade, Zhang Heita, as the host, naturally played host to a feast.

Lei Biao, feeling pissed and down, made an excuse to skip it.

Zhao Mang had occasionally come to Blackcloud Stockade before and had a warm relationship with Zhang Heita.

After a few rounds, his bladder was full and he wobbled out to take a leak.

Zhao Mang finished urinating, fastened his belt, and staggered back, drunk.

The night breeze hit him, clearing his boozy head a bit.

As he went by the backyard, he spotted a familiar figure in the corner, solo at a stone table, chugging from a jar.

It was Lei Biao, no doubt.

A mocking glint shone in Zhao Mang's triangular eyes. He grinned and sneered.

"Oh! I thought it was a stray dog licking its wounds. Turns out it's our former Big Chief Lei.

So now the 'Mountain-Splitting Axe' is acting like some bitter housewife, hiding in the dark and drinking alone?"

Lei Biao's knuckles went white on the jar as he took a big gulp, forcing himself to ignore the jab.

When Lei Biao didn't answer, Zhao Mang figured he was scared and got bolder.

He walked around, plopped down, grabbed another unopened jar, and clicked his tongue.

"Drinking alone, Big Chief? Oh, shit, my memory's going!"

He slapped his forehead, pretending to just get it. "Axe Ridge is gone, so how can you still call yourself a chief?

What should I call you now? Brother Lei? Or... Lei the Stray Dog? Hahaha!"

Lei Biao's body stiffened. He lifted his head and hissed through clenched teeth, "Fuck off."

"Fuck off?" Zhao Mang laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. He didn't back off; he leaned in, practically spitting in Lei Biao's face.

"You telling me to fuck off? Lei Biao, you still think you're the Mountain-Splitting Axe that everyone followed?

Wake up! Look at your sorry state now! What's the difference between you and a stray dog that lost its home?

Hell, a stray dog can at least scavenge. But you? You just wag your tail and wait for Zhang Heita to toss you a moldy bone!"

He raised his voice, making sure anyone nearby could hear.

"I heard all your brothers are dead? That big dummy Xiong Meng died a shitty death, huh? Stabbed full of holes like a sieve?

Hahaha, serves him right! Who told him to follow a brainless useless piece of shit like you..."

"Shut the hell up!" Lei Biao shot up, chest heaving, fists cracking.

"Shut up? I'll say whatever the hell I want!" Zhao Mang stood up too, with naked satisfaction and malice.

"Who the hell do you think you are, acting tough? What do you have to be cocky about now?

Let me tell you: in this Blackcloud Stockade, you're nothing!

Zhang Heita respects me because my Blackwind Stockade is strong!

And you? What have you got? Besides the rags on your back and a few crippled leftovers, what the hell have you got?!"

"Zhao Mang, you son of a bitch!" The accumulated anger and humiliation in Lei Biao instantly exploded.

He roared, hurling the wine jar at Zhao Mang, and charged him like a cannonball.

Zhao Mang was drunk but quick. He dodged the jar and sneered, "Come on! I've wanted to teach you a lesson for a long time!"

The two went at each other in the yard like wild animals.

Punches landed with thuds, mixed with roars and vicious curses.

Lei Biao was stronger, but Zhao Mang was quick and dirty, going for the groin. For a moment, it was a brutal standoff.

The noise immediately drew the attention of those in the main hall.

Zhang Heita rushed over with his men and shouted, "Break it up! Break it up!"

Several of Blackcloud's men stepped in and, with effort, pried the two apart.

Both had swollen faces and torn clothes, gasping and glaring daggers at each other.

Zhang Heita’s face fell into a scowl. His gaze swept over the two men, finally settling on Lei Biao, his tone dripping with displeasure.

“Brother Lei! What are you doing? We’re all brothers here. Can’t we talk this out without throwing punches?”

He then turned to Zhao Mang, his tone softening a bit, tinged with helplessness.

“Brother Zhao, calm down too. Brother Lei… hasn’t been in a good mood lately. Cut him some slack, will you?”

These words sounded like he was giving both of them equal blame, but the mention of “not in a good mood” and the clear favoritism toward Zhao Mang in “cut him some slack” made Lei Biao instantly grasp Zhang Heita’s attitude.

A chill and humiliation, worse than the pain from the beating, washed over Lei Biao.

He looked at Zhang Heita’s hypocritical face, then at Zhao Mang’s arrogant, smug demeanor, and felt blood rush to his head, his vision swimming.

He shook off the lackey still gripping him, said nothing, turned around, and ran toward his temporary room.

Back in his room, Lei Biao could no longer restrain himself. He kicked over furniture, smashing teapots and cups everywhere.

Shards flew everywhere, making a mess. His chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.

He felt a destructive urge surging inside him with no outlet.

At that moment, the door was gently pushed open. Cheng Ge walked in silently, carrying a bowl of hangover soup.

Seeing the mess and Lei Biao’s almost frenzied state, his face took on a perfectly timed look of concern.

“Big brother… why put yourself through this? Getting angry at that kind of person isn’t worth it. Calm down and have some soup.”

Lei Biao turned his head sharply, his bloodshot eyes fixed intently on Cheng Ge’s face in the candlelight.