Duan Kun had been close to a truce with the opposing leader, the conflict seemingly on the verge of resolution without bloodshed.
Unexpectedly, a subordinate behind him, disregarding the current situation, charged forward aggressively.
Both sides then erupted into a chaotic brawl.
"Screw you, Duan Kun, you old schemer, you dared to double-cross me."
The rival leader was clearly caught off guard by Duan Kun's move.
Despite having more men, they were now on the defensive, taking a beating.
Duan Kun remained silent, his face grim as he swung his cleaver.
Now that the conflict had escalated, no amount of explanation from him could bring about a reconciliation.
"The best way to catch a thief is to catch their leader."
This was the only thought echoing in his mind.
With a furious roar, he led a few capable subordinates, carving a path through the crowd protecting the rival leader.
He reached his target and plunged his saber into the leader's abdomen.
Blood immediately gushed from the wound.
Although Duan Kun had the advantage of a surprise attack, if he couldn't quickly neutralize the rival leader,
and if the opponent managed to rally and counter-attack, Duan Kun's group would be in grave danger.
After all, the enemy had significantly more men.
"Whoa, what's going on here?"
Song Qiao, hiding to the side, watched with wide eyes, utterly astonished by Duan Kun's ferocity.
He had subdued the rival leader in such a short time.
This fight, which Duan Kun was initially expected to lose, had taken a dramatic turn.
Both sides were now locked in a bloody melee, with many injured.
Brother Kun was starting to panic, never expecting the rival leader to fail to dodge his blade.
Looking at the warm blood staining his hands, a sense of dread filled him.
No matter how many fights he had been in, he had never caused a death.
Now, he had personally inflicted a severe injury on someone, who was on the verge of death.
Recalling the formidable connections of the injured man, Duan Kun felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Run."
This was the only thought in his mind.
He immediately dropped his knife, abandoned his subordinates, and bolted from the brawl.
In his haste, he spotted Song Qiao hiding in a corner.
"This is bad."
Seeing Duan Kun's hostile gaze, Song Qiao's heart sank.
"It seems he's realized I instigated this fight. Now I'm in trouble with both sides."
Song Qiao felt a surge of exasperation.
Fortunately, Duan Kun didn't have time to confront him. He merely shot Song Qiao a resentful look before fleeing.
"Everyone, stop!"
Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Song Qiao could no longer stand by.
He quickly emerged from his hiding spot and loudly ordered everyone to cease fighting.
The first to stop were the fourteen subordinates, including Ah Wei, followed by Duan Kun's men.
"People are about to die, why aren't you retreating?" Song Qiao yelled at the crowd.
"If the police show up, you'll all be arrested!"
Only then did the men snap out of their frenzy. They saw their leader lying on the ground.
Instantly, they dropped their weapons and scattered like rabbits, fearing involvement in a murder case.
None of the fighters from the rival faction even bothered to check on their leader; they ran faster than anyone.
"Ah Wei, give me a hand. Saving him is the priority."
Song Qiao, remarkably calm, directed Ah Wei to lift the rival leader onto his shoulders. They then sprinted towards a nearby hospital.
On the way, the rival leader was in a semi-conscious state, his awareness fading.
"What's your name?" Song Qiao asked as he ran.
"My name is Qi Yun. I will repay this life-saving favor in the future."
The voice was noticeably weak. After uttering these words, he lost consciousness.
"Let's worry about you surviving first," Song Qiao muttered to himself, picking up the pace.
...
"The patient has lost a lot of blood and urgently needs AB-type blood, but the blood bank is out,"
the doctor in charge told Song Qiao with a grim expression.
Song Qiao's heart skipped a beat. He wondered if the man was lucky or unlucky, as he happened to be AB-type blood.
After a moment's hesitation, he offered his arm to the doctor. "I'm AB-type. You can draw from me first."
He had already offended Duan Kun, and he knew that if Duan Kun retaliated later, he would be in trouble.
Now, Qi Yun, the man who had become his enemy, was on the brink of death.
If he saved Qi Yun by donating blood, Qi Yun might then be able to help him balance Duan Kun.
As the blood flowed into Qi Yun, his formerly pale complexion began to regain color.
After emergency treatment from the doctors, he was out of danger, though still unconscious.
"What goes around, comes around,"
Song Qiao mused, feeling a pang of sympathy for Qi Yun.
He usually had a crowd of subordinates around him, all professing loyalty, yet when a real crisis struck, the only one willing to help was a stranger like himself.
This served as another stark reminder for Song Qiao. In the future, when choosing business partners, he must avoid associating with fair-weather friends.
...
When Qi Yun's family arrived at the hospital, Song Qiao quietly slipped away, returning home exhausted.
Xia Yuqing opened the door to find her husband standing there, covered in blood.
She cried out in alarm, "What happened, Song Qiao? Are you injured?" Her voice was filled with deep concern.
Song Qiao felt a warmth spread through his chest. Despite any misunderstandings she might have, his wife truly cared about him.
"With a wife like this, what more could a man ask for?"
He smiled gently and told Xia Yuqing, "I'm fine. The blood on me isn't mine."
Xia Yuqing's anger flared. "What were you doing with Duan Kun?"
"Are you associating with people like him now? Don't you know what he does is illegal?"
"If this is how you're going to be, don't come back here anymore. You'll set a bad example for Xixi."
She then pushed Song Qiao out, wanting to talk to him outside.
"Wife, please, let me explain. I was performing a heroic deed today."
Song Qiao found the situation both amusing and frustrating as his wife misunderstood him even further.
"Do all you people in the underworld see yourselves as Robin Hoods?"
Xia Yuqing's tone was laced with sarcasm.
"Come in, take off your clothes, I'll wash them for you. Don't come home looking like this again."
Fearing that their neighbors might see Song Qiao's condition, Xia Yuqing grudgingly let him in.
Her words, however, revealed a renewed sense of disappointment in Song Qiao.
She had thought he had reformed and given up gambling, only to find him now involved in underworld dealings.
Could her husband not just live a normal, honest life?