Chapter 81: Hidden Merits and Fame

“Ah!!”

A shrill, agonized scream suddenly tore through the silence of the night from within the Ocean Pavilion, cutting straight through the layers of the lavish pleasure boat and soaring into the sky. Everyone, including Old Fifth Hua, who was utterly despondent, and Old Wolf, whose spirits were crushed, shuddered at the sound. Though the voice was distorted by pain, it was all too familiar to them—it belonged to A-Long, whose shoulder blade had been sliced away and who had been sent into the pavilion to rest and recover.

Inside a room decorated with extravagant opulence, A-Long lay sprawled helplessly on the floor, struggling to crawl forward. His eyes were fixed on the door, growing closer with each agonizing inch. He gritted his teeth against the searing pain from his wounded shoulder, driven by the last remnants of his will, dragging a trail of blood behind him as he moved.

Ding Li stood nearby, a butcher’s knife in hand. His face was as cold and expressionless as ice, not a single emotion flickering in his jet-black eyes. He watched as A-Long’s hand reached desperately for the threshold, then moved without haste.

With a heavy stomp, Ding Li pinned A-Long’s ankle to the ground. Before his victim could react, the butcher’s knife flashed, and a spray of blood erupted as Ding Li gouged out the protruding bone from A-Long’s ankle. Ding Li did not pause; as A-Long gasped in agony, he turned the blade toward the other foot.

A-Long could not even cry out properly—the pain of his shattered limbs pushed him beyond the limits of endurance. The hope that once flickered in his eyes faded to white as his head lolled to the side, striking the floor. Blood frothed slowly from his lips.

“A-Long!”

From outside the door, Old Wolf’s anxious shout rang out. He and a few brothers who could still move rushed inside. But the sight that greeted them was chilling: A-Long sprawled in a pool of blood, a butcher’s knife drenched in crimson, and Ding Li’s frostbitten face.

The butcher’s knife in Ding Li’s grip had belonged to the wounded Agu Da, and Old Wolf was the one who had cut him down. To Old Wolf, Ding Li was now the sworn enemy who had maimed his brother, A-Long. As the saying goes, enemies meeting face-to-face are bound to see red. Without hesitation, Old Wolf reached behind his waist and drew his crescent scimitar. In the narrow doorway, the two men clashed in a desperate fight for survival.

The cramped space prevented Ding Li from wielding his butcher’s knife freely, while Old Wolf took advantage, trapping Ding Li inside the room. Neither was willing to yield; one pressed forward, the other refused to retreat. Their moves repeated in a tense, unbroken deadlock.

Suddenly, another bloodcurdling scream pierced the night—this time from Old Fifth Hua outside the pleasure boat. The shock jolted Old Wolf from his murderous focus; his bloodshot eyes cleared for a moment, and his movements faltered.

Against an opponent like Ding Li, even the slightest distraction could be fatal. Old Wolf was no exception. In that brief lapse, Ding Li struck with a heavy blow, knocking the scimitar from Old Wolf’s hand. In the same instant, Ding Li sprang forward, abandoning the butcher’s knife and swinging a powerful fist into Old Wolf’s face.

The abrupt shift left Old Wolf’s allies outside dumbfounded. By the time they realized what was happening, Old Wolf had already been struck twice. Ding Li’s foot crashed into Old Wolf’s chest, sending him flying like a broken kite into the wooden wall of another room.

Crash! Crack!

Old Wolf’s body smashed through the wall, leaving a gaping hole twice as tall as a man. Ding Li didn’t pause; arms crossed protectively, he barreled forward, bursting through the splintered wood. Old Wolf had just managed to sit up, still dazed, when the world went black again—Ding Li’s foot landed squarely on his face. Searing pain mixed with a chilling numbness washed over him; blood filled his mouth, and as he collapsed, he felt his face swelling rapidly.

Ding Li stepped forward, seized Old Wolf by the hair, and drove his knee into the man’s face again and again, the sound of cracking bones loud and clear. With a final heave, Ding Li tossed him aside, snatched up a wooden club from the ground, and beat the now barely breathing man a few more times before finally stopping, panting heavily as he tried to calm himself.

Even Ding Li himself did not understand why he had erupted with such violence. He knew well enough that vengeance should have its limits. And yet, at the moment his mission neared completion, he could not suppress the raging fire in his chest. The explanation of avenging Agu Da seemed hollow, but the fury within him would not subside, undiminished even after his ruthless retribution against A-Long and Old Wolf.

Old Wolf’s underlings had witnessed everything. Though Ding Li stood frozen in the wrecked room, they did not dare approach. Hearing hurried footsteps and chaotic voices outside the boat, they glanced at each other in terror and quickly fled toward the stern.

“Brother Li! Brother Li!” Zhang Wu’s anxious voice snapped Ding Li out of his daze. With a wry smile, he turned and left through the makeshift doorway he had created, nearly colliding with Zhang Wu, who rushed over.

“Brother Li, are you all right?” Zhang Wu hurriedly stepped forward, concern etched on his face as he inspected Ding Li’s tattered clothing, which hung from him like a ragged monk’s robe.

“I’m fine,” Ding Li replied, gently pushing Zhang Wu’s hand aside. He managed a faint smile, then asked, “What about Old Fifth Hua? How is he?”

“He’s dead—thrown into the sea,” Zhang Wu replied indifferently. His gaze lingered on Ding Li with concern, and after a moment’s hesitation, he suggested, “Brother Li, let’s get back. You may not be seriously hurt, but you’ve got plenty of wounds.”

“It’s nothing—just scratches,” Ding Li said quietly, though a trace of bitterness tugged at his lips. He glanced at Lu Dachi, who seemed to have something to say. Flashing a grin, Ding Li praised him, “Brother Lu Dachi, you and your men were fierce tonight. Against Old Fifth Hua’s lot, I’d say you could take on two at a time without breaking a sweat!”

“Hahaha, you flatter me, Brother Li!” Lu Dachi laughed with embarrassment, but pride swelled in his voice. “Not to boast, but tonight’s men are the core of my forces—each one handpicked by me over the years! Taking on two at a time? No problem at all!”

Neither Zhang Wu nor Ding Li doubted him; the bloody battle had proven their mettle. They nodded with approving smiles, and Zhang Wu, growing impatient, urged, “Enough, the job’s done. The rest isn’t our concern. Let’s get back to the mansion—Second Brother is preparing a feast for us!”

He suddenly remembered something and turned to Ding Li with a grin. “Especially you, Brother Li. Second Brother said you’re the hero of the night. We have to celebrate—you’ve made the name of our South Sea Society resound in Fuxu Town!”

“There’s no need for that. This is just what I owe Second Brother,” Ding Li replied calmly, a soft smile on his lips. “Compared to the life he saved, what are fame and accomplishment worth? As long as Second Brother gives the word, I, Ding Li, would charge through fire and water without a second thought.”

Zhang Wu hesitated at these words. The distance in Ding Li’s tone was obvious—his expression was unchanged, but Zhang Wu knew him well enough to sense something was amiss. The suspicion that Ding Li might soon leave without a word only grew stronger.

He quickly masked his concern with a forced smile and slung an arm around Ding Li’s shoulder. “Brother Li, don’t be a stranger! Second Brother said last night that your life-debt to him is already repaid. Let’s not dwell on it—come back with us! Tonight, I’ll drink with you until dawn!”

“Right! Brother Li, we haven’t shared a drink yet!” Lu Dachi, oblivious to the tension, brightened at the mention of a celebratory feast. The exhaustion of battle forgotten, he grabbed Ding Li’s arm cheerfully. “I heard from Brother Wu you can drink anyone under the table. I’ve seen your skills with a blade, but when it comes to drinking, I’ve never conceded to anyone! We have to compete tonight!”

“Perhaps another time,” Ding Li said gently, suddenly adamant that he would not return to the mansion. He slid his arm free and, with an apologetic smile, explained, “Forgive me, but tonight isn’t possible. Another day, Brother Lu, I promise we’ll drink three thousand cups together!”

At these words, Zhang Wu’s heart sank—just as he feared. But he put on a look of innocent confusion and asked, “What’s this, Brother Li?”

“It’s nothing. I want to return to Guangzhou,” Ding Li replied, shaking his head. For some reason, he felt no desire to speak further. Smiling, he cupped his fists in farewell to Zhang Wu and Lu Dachi. “Brothers, I’ll take my leave. Another time, we’ll drink to our hearts’ content.”

Without waiting for their stunned response, Ding Li turned and walked toward the exit of the pleasure boat. A wave of emptiness swept over him, a strange, hollow feeling that he did not belong to this world at all.

“I suppose I never belonged to this world,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a soft sigh. He could not say why such melancholy overcame him.

“Brother Li! Are you just going to leave like this? What should I tell Second Brother when he asks?” Zhang Wu finally found his voice as Ding Li reached the exit. He couldn’t stop him, but he needed something to tell their leader.

“Fuxu is calm for now, and Little South Sea is secure. I need to check on the South Sea Society—Guangzhou is no less complex than here. After all that’s happened, I worry that Brother Sai Yi can’t handle it all alone. Please apologize to Second Brother for me. When things have settled down, I’ll come back and toast him myself.”

Ding Li spoke without hesitation; these were not premeditated words, but excuses conjured in the moment. After speaking, he looked up at the dark sky beyond the pleasure boat. The bright moon hung low in the direction of Guangzhou, like a lantern guiding his way.

Just as he was about to leave, Ding Li paused, a complicated smile touching his lips—a mix of bitterness, happiness, and emotions he could not name. Then he stepped forward again, calling out without looking back, “Tell Second Brother everything is well. And… I miss Liuseng at home…”