Outside Changqing's waste plant, the Su, Liu, Bai, and Kong clans learned their leaders were pinned upstairs—and that Lu Feng's crew had pulled knives. Panic snapped into fury. They flooded through the gates.
Inside, Changqing's people froze. Weren't the family reps upstairs talking with Lu Feng? Why were dozens of men suddenly storming the yard?
"What the hell are you doing—starting a riot?!" one foreman shouted, rallying his crew to block the way.
"If paying up won't do, giving up turf won't do, and now you're pulling knives and holding our men—what, you think you can stomp on our necks?!" bellowed the Bai family's lead. "No one bullies us like that! Inside—get our brothers out!"
The four families crashed into Changqing's line at the lobby doors. A chair suddenly came spinning out of a third-floor window, shattering the glass. Shards rained down; the chair wedged itself halfway through the frame.
Everyone looked up. Things were clearly out of control upstairs—another minute and their leaders might be beaten half to death.
"Move! Save them!"
"All in! Let's see what they've got!"
No more hesitation. Driven by fury and fear, the four clans smashed through the barricade, and chaos erupted.
Under normal circumstances, the Su, Liu, Bai, and Kong boys would've thought twice before charging. Changqing wasn't some backstreet cleaning crew—they were known for being vicious. And these four families were blue-collar through and through; they came to earn a living, not die on a warehouse floor.
But today was different. They'd been pushed too far—bosses jailed, routes seized, and now Lu Feng was drawing steel on negotiators. Who the hell swallows that?
People break before they bow forever.
Within seconds, sheer numbers carried the mob into the stairwell and up the main building.
On the third floor, Lu Feng's office was chaos. The men guarding the door heard the crash and the roars, burst inside—and froze. Lu Feng was facedown on the tea table, soaked in blood.
No one asked questions after that.
Among the four, the sharpest was Su Tianyu. The second his "self-defense" strike landed, he hopped onto the windowsill and shouted, "Tiannan! Move, move—get out first!"
The unluckiest was Bai Hongbo. When Su struck, Bai had been close to the door, ready to bolt—but he didn't make it. Changqing's men poured in before he could slip away.
Bai hated fighting, hated chaos, and prided himself on being "a man of culture." Seeing the first wave, he threw up his hands. "Brothers, wait—three seconds! Let me explain—"
"Explain my ass! You start something here, you die here!" a big man roared, snatching up a chair and hurling it.
Hair disheveled, Bai flailed. "It's not me, brother—listen! The Police Bureau's watching everything. This is just a money issue—we don't need to go criminal—"
Wham!
A stool slammed across his head.
The "cultured" Bai Hongbo staggered, blinked twice, then snatched a metal mop by the door and screamed, "Screw you bastards from Zeban! I'm fighting for my life! Self-defense!"
At the front, Su Tiannan, Kong Zhenghui, and Liu Lao'er swung on stools and even a tea table, holding the doorway in a desperate rhythm.
Perched on the window frame, Tianyu yelled, "Are you idiots? The whole building's theirs! What are you fighting for? Out the window—there's an awning!"
Tiannan, Liu, and Kong fought their way back, climbed onto the sill, and jumped.
By the sofa, Bai Hongbo—dazed, bleeding—howled, "What, no one fights fair anymore? Come one by one if you've got guts!"
Seeing Bai trapped, Tianyu grabbed every flowerpot on the sill and fast-pitched them into the doorway. The pots were heavy; a clean hit could knock someone cold. As the attackers flinched, Bai hauled himself up—and dove out without looking.
Riiip!
Thud!
The others landed safely on the second-floor awning and rolled off. Bai, though, ripped straight through it like a cannonball and slammed into the concrete below.
At the gate, the Bai clan rushed over. "Big bro! You okay?!"
"Don't touch me—think I cracked my tailbone." Pale-faced, Bai waved them off, shifted painfully, then gritted his teeth and stood up straight.
Out on the road, seven or eight garbage trucks from the four families came roaring in. The company crew had shown up too—originally just to "sit in" if talks went bad. Seeing the chaos, they jumped off the beds and surged toward the office.
"Enough! Don't fight—just pull back!" Liu Lao'er yelled, waving his arms. Timid by nature, he wanted no part of this disaster.
Upstairs, Lu Feng began to stir. Su Tianyu's knee had scrambled him, then someone else had smashed a stool across his head. He'd blacked out briefly. Now he staggered up, wiped his face, and snarled, "With me—downstairs!"
"Brother Feng—your ear! It's coming off!" one man warned.
Tianyu's fruit-knife slash had punched right through it. The blade's width had nearly severed the ear—only the lobe still held it on.
Lu Feng touched it, felt it dangling—and ripped it free. He pocketed the ear without a flinch.
Everyone stared. Lu Feng's face was stone.
He walked to a display cabinet, took down a decorative blade, and barked, "Go!"
Less than a minute later, he led a dozen men down the sidestairs and out into the yard. His eyes swept once—and locked on Su Tianyu, who was shouting for his men to retreat.
Tianyu was standing beside Bai Hongbo, who was still clutching his back.
Bai looked wrecked—bloodied, limping, barely upright. When he saw Lu Feng charging, he panicked. "Hit him! Resist criminals to the end!"
They clashed, and fists flew.
Neither Bai nor Tianyu had expected how terrifying Lu Feng was in a fight. He didn't dodge like normal men. Even with blades flashing, he advanced steadily, slipping angles, cutting through four men in seconds.
Bai saw that—and bolted. He looked up just in time to see Su Tianyu already sprinting ahead of him.
Lu Feng barreled after them, dropping two more Bai boys in his path. Bai's pain vanished in pure terror. "Little Su! Don't run in front of me! You're blocking—damn it—"
"Don't fight! The moment you fight, you lose!" Tianyu shouted, ignoring him, calling back to Tiannan. "We're out, bro! Head home!"
Lu Feng gave chase, but Tianyu could run—fast, like a trained middle-distance sprinter. There was no catching him.
He had zero interest in dying on a garbage lot surrounded by Changqing thugs. He tore down half a block, glanced back—Lu Feng was still behind him.
He swung around a corner, spotted a red sedan parked at the curb, yanked the passenger door open, dove inside, and shouted, "Drive! Go!"
Behind the wheel, a big-eyed beauty holding an ice cream cone blinked at him. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"There's a gang brawl in the street! Drive, now—or when they catch up, they'll slice you from collarbone to milk duct!" Tianyu barked, dead serious.