Chaos dies down like a storm losing its teeth. Chen Xiao and the others slip out of the warehouse building. The only thing left to remember the slaughter is a puddle of water on a rooftop mattress — a small, mute witness.
"Where to now?" Jiang YunHan asks. At some point he's stopped deferring and started asking Chen Xiao what to do.
Chen Xiao thinks for a beat. "Jianghe Grain Warehouse."
Jiang nods. It's the obvious move. Between Jiangbei and Jiangnan runs the Menglong River — a twisting dragon of water that separates the two halves of the country. Cross it and you're in Jiangnan; fail and you're stuck. There are only three ways across: a long detour to Cangzhou Port, flying (which none of them can do), or the bridge — Jianghe Bridge.
Jianghe Bridge rises like a steel leviathan over the glittering river; before the end times it was a 5A tourist spot. Now it's a stronghold. On one side, under the bridge's shadow, a force has planted itself and turned the area into a toll point — a survival outpost more dangerous than the warehouses. No one gives up that kind of rent-seeking ground.
Agreement is quick and wordless. They find a fueled truck, hop in, and head for the bridge.
Three hours later the little monk in the back is grinning like a kid in a candy store. "This is the bridge? It looks so much bigger in real life!"
Chen shrugs. "Bigger, and more trouble." He slows the truck as they approach. Several heavy rigs block the way. People from Jianghe Grain Warehouse have already set up.
They step out, faces casual. Seven or eight men watch them like hungry dogs.
"State your names, where you're from, and your destination," the leader snaps.
"Jiang Bing. From Nancheng. Going to Jiangnan to see my uncle.""Chen Dadao. Same.""Li Fugui. Same."
They toss out fake names; everyone does. The little monk makes one too, simply for fun.
The leader is all tough angles — black leather jacket, tight muscles, a silver wolf pendant banging against his chest. He shakes his head. "You can't pass."
Chen steps forward, matching the man almost step for step. "And if we can't?"
The man snarls and throws a punch — loud, unapologetic, carrying force. Chen grips the man's wrist like it means nothing and smiles. He doesn't bother to push. He lets the man pull himself out, spins aside when the foot comes, and releases him. The move reads like a deliberate lesson: this is not your playground.
The man's face changes. Pride drains into calculation. "We need people at Jianghe. Join us — you two can work, the kid can stay with family."
The little monk bristles, itching to sock the man, but Chen holds him back. "Join you? What can you offer? That kid's uncle is with the Tang family in Jiangnan." Chen's tone is flat, skeptical.
The leader snorts, then grins like he's promising heaven: "The power we have here? You can't imagine. Ever had mutton since the fall? We just recruited a woman who can create sheep. And — she's a beauty."
That word lands. Jiang YunHan's posture stiffens. Chen catches the look and nods once. Mention of a sheep-creating beauty is more than rumor — it almost certainly means Jiang Chu Xue.
"Do you have water?" Chen asks, forcing a quick check.
The leader scoffs. "Bottled water in stock. More than we can drink."
Meaningful intel is thin, but the beauty clue is solid. Chen nods. "Fine. We'll join."
They're led into the fold by Feng Jiafan, the road team leader. People passing the bridge pay tolls — supplies, men, or women. It's crude, it's ruthless, and Feng says it with a smug pride that smells like money. Chen and Jiang both bristle at the logic; two of the people they need are beautiful women. That doesn't sit well.
Feng takes them around, shows them the checkpoints, the ambush points, where they collect and how they handle newcomers. Night falls; the truck's engine cools. Feng claps Chen on the shoulder. "Dadao, you're solid. When we get back I'll recommend you to the young master."
"Young master?" Jiang asks, confused.
Feng's expression turns reverent. "The Xu family runs the warehouse. Call him Young Master Xu. Don't be stupid around him — he's arrogant and quick to bruise anyone who annoys him."
They memorize the name. Details matter.
The truck stops. A small group approaches — three men, two women. Feng beams like a man who just bought the moon.
"Jiafan, you pulled in two new faces?" A woman steps forward. She's around thirty, dressed like she owns the room — wine-red silk top, high-waist pants, beige heels. The V of her neckline shows pale skin and a neat collarbone. She has that confident, dangerous poise of someone used to getting what she wants.
"Oh my," she purrs at Chen and Jiang. "Brought back two handsome guys?"
Jiang flushes and shifts under the gaze. Chen meets her stare, steady. When their eyes lock, sparks flare — not romance, not yet; just that instant recognition two predators give each other across a table.
Feng laughs. "Sister Liu — tell them to keep their mouths shut. We got a new truck today. Lucky day."
Sister Liu gives Chen a once-over with a heat that's nearly physical. Chen returns it cleanly, like a man used to being measured.
The little monk watches it all, baffled and delighted. Jiang YunHan shifts his weight, unused to the brazen bartering of human flesh and food. This place smells of blood, barter, survival — and bargains made in the dark.
They settle in, patrol a few routes with Feng, and learn the rhythm of this outpost: check the trucks, collect tolls, rough up the foolish. Everyone here is a little harder, a little colder. That's how it has to be.
At night, as trucks rumble past and the bridge lights smear the river in fractured gold, Chen thinks about the next move. If Chu Xue is here — and if the Xu family's young master really commands power — then the rescue just got more complicated. But Chen doesn't blink. Plans, like blades, are made to be used.
"Sleep," he tells the little monk, and the kid curls up with the simple trust of someone who thinks the world can still be civilized.
Chen looks out at the river, at the bridge spanning the dark. The night is full of small betrayals and bigger strategies. He smiles, a thin line that could be mercy or menace.
Either way, the Jianghe Grain Warehouse just took three new names into its books. And the game has only just gotten interesting.