Chapter 62: Root and Branch Removal

I finally understood why Shen Xiang was so afraid of Shen Jiangchuan. In truth, no one could remain fearless before such a ruthless and merciless man. Compared to the benevolent facade Shen Jiangchuan wore, his heart was dark and sinister beyond measure.

Shen Jiangchuan cast a glance at Shen Xiang, raising his teacup and saying coolly, “The remaining two are yours to deal with. Everything has a first time; it gets easier after that.”

Shen Xiang looked at his blood-stained hands and the knife glinting coldly in the dim light. As Shen Jiangchuan said, killing was, in fact, quite interesting. When you hold another’s life in your hands, watching them plead helplessly, despair gradually eclipsing their eyes as their pupils dilate before you, there’s a god-like sensation—an illusion of being above all else.

Shen Jiangchuan was right; it all begins with the first time, and after that, the rest is simple. Shen Xiang now realized murder was a habit one could easily become addicted to. The remaining two victims seemed far easier to dispatch. As Shen Xiang’s blade pierced their bodies without a hint of hesitation, blood soaking their clothes and staining his skin, an inexplicable satisfaction washed over him, momentarily erasing his own pain.

Looking at the three corpses sprawled across the floor, Shen Jiangchuan nodded with satisfaction, evidently pleased with Shen Xiang’s performance.

A chill ran down my spine. From the moment Shen Xiang drew his knife, the intoxicated expression on his face made it clear: this was no longer the Shen Xiang I knew. One who could so easily disregard life had lost all traces of conscience. What shocked me even more was that Shen Jiangchuan had transformed his own son into a cold-blooded creature in less than ten minutes. Such people could never be easily satisfied.

Shen Jiangchuan drank his tea with indifference, addressing Shen Xiang, “Let me teach you one last lesson: if you do not uproot the weeds, they’ll grow again with the spring breeze.”

Shen Xiang quickly grasped the meaning behind Shen Jiangchuan’s words, slowly raising his head to fix an ominous, bloodshot gaze upon Yue Leiting across the room.

“Shen Jiangchuan, what is it you want?” Yue Leiting asked, chest thrown out in fearless defiance.

“Boss Yue, you’ve been in the game for years. Surely I needn’t teach you the principle of eliminating the root?” Shen Jiangchuan replied, savoring the moment. “If I were you, I’d have killed this kid the very day, then dealt with me as I’m doing with you now. That would’ve wrapped it all up neatly, no surprises left.”

“Your son came to me looking for trouble. I had every right to teach him a lesson. I spared his life out of respect for you. Shen Jiangchuan, you’re biting the hand that feeds you,” Yue Leiting retorted, head held high.

“You look at the owner before beating the dog, especially when the dog is my son. If anyone’s to discipline him, it’s certainly not an outsider like you. You dared to break my son’s hand—I can’t say you won’t one day cut off my head. So… well, blame yourself for your indecision.”

Yue Leiting’s breathing grew heavy. From the present circumstance, escape was impossible. He wasn’t afraid to die; if it came to a fight, Shen Jiangchuan’s men were nothing to him. If he was to die, he’d die standing. But to perish at the hands of someone like Shen Xiang—a nobody—would make his entire life a waste.

Still, Yue Qianling and Lanqing were in Shen Jiangchuan’s hands—his most important people. No matter what, he couldn’t let harm befall them because of him.

Shen Jiangchuan slowly raised his hand. His men, understanding instantly, produced a revolver and handed it to him with utmost respect.

It was a rare Colt Model 38, holding six rounds. But tonight, Shen Jiangchuan only loaded one bullet, its metallic sheen dazzling under the candlelight, stabbing into Yue Leiting’s vision.

Before Yue Leiting, Shen Jiangchuan loaded the bullet, spun the cylinder, closed it, then smiled faintly and held the gun out.

“You are a boss, after all. I shouldn’t make things too hard for you. I’ve lived off the streets for decades—street rules are street rules. I, Shen Jiangchuan, always keep my word. Tonight, I’ll give you a chance, Yue Leiting. There’s just one bullet in the gun. You have two choices: shoot yourself, live or die, fate decides; or use this gun to kill anyone in this room. But whatever choice you make, you die.”

Yue Leiting glanced at the gun, sneered. What storms hadn’t he weathered over the decades? Death was no longer a big deal. Everyone in the underworld knew that retribution was inevitable; it was only a matter of time. He’d enjoyed all the comforts life offered—one life, nothing more. In youth, perhaps death seemed unacceptable, but at his age, its significance had faded.

“If you want my life… well, I’m right here. Kill me, cut me, do as you please. What’s the point of all these games? Make it quick. If I so much as blink, then I’m not worth a damn!” Yue Leiting spat.

Shen Jiangchuan was unfazed by the provocation. He stared at Yue Leiting for a long time, then took a deep breath and smiled.

“I know you’re not afraid of death. But…”

“Spare me the bullshit. Looks like I won’t be leaving this room alive today. Why all the nonsense? Isn’t it enough you want my life? Even murder, you drag it out.”

Ignoring Yue Leiting, Shen Jiangchuan walked over to Yue Qianling and Lanqing, smiling as if savoring the moment.

“They say those of us in this world are doomed to pay for our sins, sooner or later. But Boss Yue, you’ve eaten well, slept well, even your daughter’s a beauty. And your wife… ha, it’s the first time I’ve seen her. Who’d have thought she’s still so charming? Boss Yue, you’re truly blessed.”

Yue Leiting’s fingers twitched slightly. His gaze remained calm and contemptuous, but now, his eyes seemed a little unfocused.

“Look at such a pretty little face. Tell me… what would it look like with a few scars?” Shen Xiang said as he picked up his knife, gently tracing it across Yue Qianling’s cheek.

Despite Shen Jiangchuan’s words and the cold blade on her face, Yue Qianling showed no fear. Suddenly, she jerked her head forward, striking Shen Xiang squarely on the nose. He fell to the ground, clutching his face as blood poured out.

“And you call yourself a man? Trash will always be trash,” Yue Qianling mocked.

I almost felt like laughing, but my admiration outweighed any amusement. To think Yue Qianling could remain so unyielding in such a situation.

Shen Xiang, humiliated and furious, got up and slapped Yue Qianling hard.

Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, but she held her head high, sneering, “Is that all you’ve got?”

Lanqing swiftly pulled Yue Qianling behind her, her cold, sharp gaze fixed on Shen Xiang, showing not a hint of fear.

“You, Shen, you call yourself a man? Beating women—that’s all you’re good for? If you’ve got guts, let me go and we’ll settle it man to man,” Xiao Lianshan shouted at Shen Xiang.

“Enough, stop talking!” Yue Leiting shouted through gritted teeth, his once proud head slowly bowing. Sweat beaded on his forehead, glistening under the light, and his adam’s apple worked nervously, betraying his tension and fear.

Shen Jiangchuan was pleased with this transformation. Like a venomous snake pressed at its vital point, Yue Leiting in his eyes was now devoid of poison—a snake caught in hibernation, utterly powerless.

Unable to hold back any longer, Yue Leiting spoke in a near-pleading tone, “Don’t drag my wife and child into this. They’re innocent. If you want revenge, take it from me—my life is yours.”

Shen Jiangchuan didn’t even look at him. His gaze rested on the gun before Yue Leiting, his voice deep. “Whether they’re safe or not depends on what you do.”

Yue Leiting glanced at the revolver, with its single bullet. His whole family was in Shen Jiangchuan’s hands; it was impossible to kill Shen Jiangchuan, however much he might want to.

He knew he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, he snatched up the gun and pressed it to his temple.

“Are you still a man?” Lanqing cried out in panic as Yue Leiting raised the gun. “All these years on the streets—what good is it if you shoot yourself? He won’t let us go anyway. If you’re a man, kill him. Even if you die, don’t let him win.”

Yue Leiting gritted his teeth. He knew Lanqing was right, but he wouldn’t gamble with their safety. Heart sinking, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

…

When Yue Leiting opened his eyes, he was still alive. His hands shook uncontrollably. He realized that he wasn’t truly fearless; perhaps only when facing death does one learn humility before life.

Exhausted, Yue Leiting tossed the gun to the ground, gasping for breath, his expression steady as he looked at Shen Jiangchuan. Shen Jiangchuan, however, seemed delighted, his smile inscrutable.

“I’ve done what you wanted. Now let my family go,” Yue Leiting pleaded between breaths.