As I started the car, the Vietnamese men upstairs spotted us escaping through the window and immediately gave chase. I watched as someone ran down the stairs, but before he even reached the bottom, he opened fire on my windshield!
"Damn it!" I cursed, immediately ducking down. At that moment, another Vietnamese man jumped out of the window and blocked the entrance to the car dealership. He was also carrying a gun.
I gritted my teeth, cursed, and slammed on the gas pedal!
With a whoosh, the car slammed backward like a wild beast. I heard a dull thud, and in the rearview mirror, I saw the Vietnamese man get hit head-on by the car! Then he rolled to the side…
I quickly reversed the car onto the street, then jerked the steering wheel, and the car actually performed a perfect drift. It spun around and was now upright on the street. Just as I was about to accelerate away, the man shouted, "Wait!"
He pushed open the car door, then raised his revolver and fired a burst of shots into the car dealership. The Vietnamese people inside quickly dodged, but then he pointed the gun at the guy who had been hit by my car and was rolling on the ground.
Bang!!
A bullet struck the Vietnamese man on the ground squarely in the head, instantly ending his life.
"Drive!" he shouted at me quickly, then spat rapidly onto the dead Vietnamese man's body. A string of words popped out of his mouth.
I didn't understand what he meant. It was probably Vietnamese. The pronunciation was something like: "Do ma, Lang xian di, ting sei!"
"Who are you? You're not an AB kid, you're a pure-blooded Chinese." The car drove down a street. He asked me.
Before I could answer, I heard him suddenly shout angrily, "Where do you live?! Left! Left! There are cameras and police officers ahead in this direction! Left!"
I listened to him and quickly pulled the steering wheel to the left. The car then drove onto a secluded side road. The road was uneven and bumpy, but it was very quiet.
"How do we start from here?" I asked him.
“Go straight, then turn right at the next intersection…” He squinted and began to scrutinize me, his tone softening slightly, less agitated: “You…you’re not a local?”
"No." I focused on driving. I found this kind of car a bit uncomfortable to drive. "I just got ashore."
I emphasized the words "go ashore." He said "Oh," glanced at me sideways for a moment, and then solemnly began, "That sentence you said to me in the room just now... that sentence..."
"Fang Dahai sent me to find you." I told him frankly, "I got into trouble in China, and Fang Dahai arranged for me to flee here and come to find you."
I saw his expression change. He stared at me for a few seconds, then finally burst into laughter. Ignoring the fact that I was driving, he reached out and slapped my shoulder hard, laughing loudly, "Good! Good, Fatty Fang! I finally have a chance to repay this favor! Good lad! I saw you were pretty good earlier... Where did you come from?"
"Nanjing," I replied. "My name is Chen Yang... You must be my seventh uncle, right?"
Uncle Qi raised an eyebrow: "That's me." He hesitated for a moment: "Nanjing...you're not from the military, are you?"
"No," I answered honestly.
"Hmm, I thought it didn't look like it either. The way you handle a gun, you're obviously a newbie." He smiled, his expression somewhat excited. "Keep going to the right... Hmm, what do you do in Nanjing?"
I sighed and briefly explained the trouble I'd run into. Before I came, Fatty had told me not to hide anything and to say whatever was on my mind; that would be good for me. Because in the underworld, honesty and openness are paramount; if you're not honest with others, they won't be honest with you.
If there's something you can't or don't want to say, you should tell people openly that it's unspeakable. You absolutely cannot make up lies to deceive people, because if you lie to your own brothers, they won't consider you one of their own anymore.
After I finished speaking, Uncle Qi gave me a strange look and squinted at me: "You little brat, did you offend those guys from the Hongmen? Damn... you beat one of their bosses' sons into a eunuch..."
He stared at me with a strange expression for a long time, then finally couldn't help but burst into laughter. He then grinned and slapped me hard: "Good, good, good! You've got potential! You're so young, but you've got a lot of guts! Very good, very good! You've got potential!"
I was both amused and exasperated... Is this even a future? I've almost died countless times because of this!
However, he seemed completely unfazed by the Qinghong, which reassured me somewhat.
He then asked me a few more questions about Fatty's recent situation, which I answered one by one. It was clear he and Fatty had a good relationship; as I described Fatty's appearance and mannerisms, a nostalgic expression appeared on his face. Taking advantage of his distraction, I tentatively asked, "Seventh Uncle, just now..."
Hearing my question, Uncle Qi's eyebrows shot up, and a fierce glint flashed across his face. Despite being nearly fifty, he was still incredibly robust! He coldly said, "Hmph, the Vietnamese are retaliating. Damn it, this time they actually infiltrated my stronghold. It's probably because of that business deal last month that they're really unhappy with… Damn it, you can't explain this to me in a few words. Just remember, in Canada, if I see a Vietnamese person, I'll beat them to a pulp! And those Indians and Middle Easterners, they're no good either. We have a deep grudge against them! But… the Vietnamese are the most cunning!"
As he spoke, he pulled a box of magazines from under his seat, then skillfully loaded a revolver with bullets, quickly aimed it in his hand, and a bloodthirsty smile appeared on his lips!
I know that only those who have truly braved gunfire and bullets possess this kind of smile and this kind of demeanor.
Following Uncle Qi's directions, I drove around in a maze of streets and alleys until I arrived at a repair shop. To be honest, I was completely disoriented and had no idea where I was. It was a repair shop run by Chinese people. I drove straight in, and the few mechanics inside, who were quick to spot Uncle Qi sitting in the passenger seat, all gave him respectful smiles. Uncle Qi chatted with them for a few moments, and then someone pushed in a wheelchair. I stood to the side watching him. Uncle Qi said a few more words to the others, then suddenly smiled at me and beckoned, "Kid, what are you standing there for? Come and push me!"
Behind the repair shop was a large warehouse. I pushed Uncle Qi's wheelchair inside. Along the way, I saw that all the mechanics were Chinese; there wasn't a single foreigner. Everyone looked at me with surprise, but I noticed that their gazes towards Uncle Qi were somewhat evasive, as if they were quite afraid of him.
When we got to the warehouse at the back, we pushed open the door and entered a large room with several tables. There was an old man, about the same age as Uncle Qi, wearing a work uniform... What I found even funnier was that he was wearing arm protectors! He looked like an accountant from a state-owned enterprise in the 1980s, holding an account book and doing some calculations.
Uncle Qi coughed, and the man looked up at us, frowning as he said, "Seventh Brother, what brings you here..." His gaze swept over my face, "Who is this young man?"
"Chen Yang, come here and greet Eighth Master," Uncle Seven said to me solemnly. I was sensible and knew how to read the room, so I immediately stepped forward and respectfully greeted, "Eighth Master."
The man was about fifty years old, with slightly graying hair, deep wrinkles on his face, and a short stature. His skin was somewhat fair, and he even had a refined, scholarly air about him. However, what startled me was... I accidentally glanced at his left hand; he only had three fingers. But I only glanced at him briefly before quickly looking away. I know it's impolite to look at someone's shortcomings.
"What Eighth Master? He's just an Eight-Finger." He smiled, his smile gentle, but his eyes were sharp.
"This kid jumped ship here. He got into trouble on the mainland, and Fang Dahai sent him to find us," Uncle Qi laughed. "He even saved my life just now!"
"What?" Eighth Master frowned. "What happened to you just now?"
"Vietnamese! Damn it, they actually managed to sneak into my hideout! Looks like what happened last month really angered them." Uncle Shi sighed, "I was cornered at home. If it weren't for this kid, I would be finished." He paused, then added, "This kid seems pretty skilled, but it's a pity he can't handle a gun."
"Hmm." Eighth Master tapped the table with his left hand, which only had three fingers. His seemingly peaceful gaze swept over me twice... To be honest, his gaze seemed peaceful, but when it actually hit me, it made me feel very uncomfortable! It was a gaze that seemed to see right through you, a scrutinizing gaze!
"Seventh Brother just said your name was... Hmm, Chen Yang, right?"
I nodded: "Just call me Xiao Wu."
“Alright, settle in here with me first.” He smiled. “I’m also surnamed Fang, but I’m not related to that Fatty Fang. As you can see, I only have eight fingers, so people here and outside call me ‘Fang Eight-Fingers.’ If you’d like, you can just call me Eighth Master. At my age, it’s not like I’m taking advantage of you.”
His smile was gentle, and that subtle, refined air was like a breath of fresh air...
But it was precisely this kind of temperament of his that made me feel a little uncomfortable!
Because his mannerisms, his temperament, and his demeanor are very similar to one person!
Huan-ge!!
Eighth Master pressed a button on the table, and immediately the back door opened and two men came in: "Take Seventh Uncle out to rest for a while, and find a doctor to come and examine him." He gave a few instructions in a calm tone.
Seventh Uncle seemed about to say something, but after exchanging a glance with Eighth Master and looking at me, he didn't speak, only patted my shoulder. Then two men respectfully came over and pushed him out.
A thought struck me. I understood. This Eighth Master had something to say to me.
I remained expressionless, simply watching him quietly. He smiled slightly and gestured to a chair beside him: "Sit down."
Then he smiled at me very politely and said, "Please wait a moment."
He then pressed the button again. This time, a man entered, dressed in clean work clothes. Eighth Master quickly instructed, "Seventh Uncle had a problem at home today, it was done by Vietnamese people... I'm worried about what happened last month. Investigate all the Chinatowns to see how the news got out... Communicate with several Chinese community groups. See what they... um..." He glanced at me, didn't finish, but the man understood, nodded, and left.
I could tell that the person was always very upright, whether walking or standing, and his steps were very straight. He had obvious military bearing.
Then, Eighth Master sighed, walked to the side, poured me a cup of water from a somewhat rusty old thermos, and smiled, indicating that I didn't need to be polite.
"Xiao Wu, right?" He smiled at me. "Tell me about your troubles. What kind of trouble did you get into back home?"
I hesitated for a moment, then repeated what I had said to Uncle Qi in the car.
Eighth Master didn't speak, just listened quietly. His fingers tapped lightly on the table, one tap at a time, as if with some strange rhythm.
Because the rhythm of his finger tapping was so strange, I couldn't help but be led astray by the rhythm a few times, and even the tone of my voice changed.
Eighth Master smiled, sensing my discomfort, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. This is an old problem of mine."
Suddenly, a thought struck me, and I realized that the rhythm of his finger tapping was based on the rhythm of an old song called "The East Is Red"!
After I finished speaking, he gently touched his eyebrows and slowly said, "Thinking, according to what you said, your troubles in China are actually over... The people from the Qinghong faction already think you're dead, right? Someone made a fake corpse for you... So you should be free of trouble now."
"Yes." I shook my head, a slight twitch in the corner of my eye. "There's trouble. The person who helped me orchestrate the situation so that the outside world thought I was dead... also wants to kill me to silence me..."
Eighth Master suddenly laughed: "Alright, you don't need to explain anymore, I understand. You're not the first, nor will you be the last, to do this." He shook his head: "But I have a question for you now, a very important one. Think it through before you answer me."
"Okay!" I nodded.
“You’re in Canada now. No matter what’s looking for you back home, their influence can’t reach here, so no one will be after you. You’re safe now. So I need to figure out what you’re thinking.” Eighth Master said slowly, “You were sent by Fatty Fang. I can tell you very clearly that Fatty Fang is our brother, and we absolutely trust the people he sends… But you need to figure out what you’re thinking first.”
I looked at him.
Eighth Master suddenly chuckled: "You saw it at Seventh Master's house today... We're not doing ordinary business here, nor are we doing ordinary things. In other words, we're not law-abiding citizens! If you just want to run away here and live a peaceful life, then out of consideration for Fatty Fang, I'll try to get you a legal status, give you some money, and help you find a job, or let you start a business in Chinatown. That way, you can settle down here peacefully, live a quiet life until you're old. And I guarantee that with us, you won't be bullied by anyone else."
I still didn't say anything, and just kept looking at him quietly.
“Another path… is for you to join us.” Eighth Master sighed. “That guy, Fatty Fang, sent you here without saying a word. He probably meant you have to decide for yourself. But let me warn you, if you join us, don’t expect to continue living a peaceful life. Canada isn’t your hell… but likewise, this isn’t heaven either!”
I looked at him quietly, then shifted my posture, glanced at the pack of cigarettes on his desk, hesitated for a moment, and pointed, "Is it okay?"
"Oh, of course." Eighth Master laughed and tossed the cigarette case to me.
I pulled out a cigarette and lit it: "I haven't smoked for days at sea, I'm so bored."
"Jumping into the sea is quite difficult; nowadays, many people choose to jump out of planes," Eighth Master said with a faint smile.
I know that what he meant by "jumping into the sea" and "jumping out of the plane" are slang terms, meaning smuggling people by boat and by plane.
I took a drag of my cigarette, the long-lost tobacco flavor swirling in my lungs, and couldn't help but let out a long sigh. Then I opened my eyes, looked directly at Eighth Master, and said solemnly, "Eighth Master! I actually thought about this issue before I came here."
"Okay." He gestured for me to continue.
"Actually, back in China, Brother Fang suggested I settle down in a small mountainous county in the Northwest or Southwest, and live a peaceful, law-abiding life, but I refused." I slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, looking into his eyes: "I'll never forget what happened to me back in China! I used to have my own life, a house, a home, a woman I loved... but because of..." I coughed, using the cough to cover the twitching of the muscles at the corner of my eye and the expression on my face, and quickly said, "I lost everything! I was chased like a stray dog! Every day after I opened my eyes, the first thing I did was feel grateful..." I wished I could live one more day! And I prayed to God that my luck would continue today! Later I understood… the reason I was chased so badly was because I was just a nobody! A nobody with nothing! I'm a very good fighter! I can take on several people at once. That night in Guangzhou, I fought my way through the streets alone with a knife, killing more than a dozen people by myself! But what was the use? I only had one person, only two hands…” I gritted my teeth and stared at Eighth Master: “I only have one life, I don’t care about fighting… but I only have this one life, once it’s gone, it’s gone… but the people chasing me have countless lives on their hands!”
Eighth Master did not speak.
“I’ve thought this through very clearly. I don’t want to find a place and hide like a rat, living my whole life in anonymity! I don’t want to be constantly on the lookout, afraid that someone will recognize me! I don’t want to live that kind of life!” I gritted my teeth and said, “If I were willing to live that kind of life, I wouldn’t have taken such a big risk to come to Canada! I came here to forge my own path, I’ve told myself that, and I’ve told Brother Fang… I will return in glory and with my head held high!!”
Eighth Master remained silent, simply taking out a cigarette from the wedding box and lighting it himself.
"I gave up almost everything for this! I abandoned my family and wife, and what did I get in return..." I laughed bitterly. "All I got was 'I'm sorry, you have to die.' Now I have nothing left—family, women, friends, job, life... nothing at all. Even the affection I once considered fatherly and brotherly is gone! I've been on the run, fighting and hiding... Many times I almost died, but I just didn't want to die! I told myself I had to go back alive!"
The more I talked, the more excited I became, and a surge of passion welled up inside me. Suddenly, a thrilling movie I watched when I was young popped into my head, and I remembered a line from it that resonated deeply with me at that moment!
"I must go back! Not because I want to prove myself, but because I want others to know! What I've lost, I will take back with my own hands!!!"
Eighth Master looked at me, took a deep drag on his cigarette, then stood up and patted my shoulder: "Come with me."
Part One: In the Martial World, Not in Control of One's Own Fate, Chapter 136: First Arrival
The warehouse at the back had two doors. I followed Uncle Ba out through the back door. It was a parking garage filled with cars of all sizes, but they all looked quite old. What surprised me was that some of the mechanics didn't seem to be doing repair work at all…
They were practically dismantling it! Taking the car apart and breaking it down into parts.
As we passed through the garage, Master Ba didn't stop; he stayed in front of us. The repairmen beside him simply stood up and bowed silently to Master Ba, looking very respectful.
Stepping out of the garage, we entered a courtyard with a spiral staircase. Eighth Master led me down, and we pushed open a large door with peeling paint. From inside, we heard the sounds of fighting.
The sounds were very familiar to me—there were shouts, exhalations, footsteps, and the sound of boxing gloves clashing. When I walked in, I almost thought I had entered a gym.
There were some simple fitness equipment on both sides. Although they were quite basic, they had everything you needed. There were also some strong-looking men using weights to train. In the middle, there were some mats on the ground, forming a relatively large area. Some people were sparring in pairs, and they were all wearing boxing gloves... not the big boxing gloves used in boxing matches, but the small kind that only showed half a finger when worn.
Indeed, they were all wearing hoods.
Eighth Master looked at the surprised expression on my face and a slightly satisfied smile appeared on his face.