Chapter Forty-Four: Lin Zou’s Decision

Staring at the orange-red flame of the Zippo in Zhao Qiang’s hand, flickering ceaselessly, the man with the shattered nose and ruined face, known as Pighead, finally broke down completely. He was terrified that Zhao Qiang might lose his grip on the lighter and set him ablaze in an instant, so he began confessing everything, his words tumbling out in a trembling rush.

It turned out these local thugs had another base of operations—inside a bar at Hualong Pool. All the major figures in the underworld were there, living like emperors thanks to their connections and firearms. Despite Pighead’s usual bravado, in front of those bosses, he was no more than a gofer—while the big shots drank and feasted, he was left to sip the dregs.

Inside the bar, there was plenty of alcohol but little food. The meager snacks and popcorn did nothing to fill the belly, especially with over a hundred people holed up inside—bartenders, hostesses, and all sorts of refugees who had stumbled in by chance. The bosses were more concerned with appearances than substance, waving their hands grandly as they claimed the hostesses for their harems and kept the ordinary folks around as servants to do odd jobs. The real misery, though, fell upon their enforcers. “Aren’t you good at fighting and killing?” the bosses would say. “That’s what I keep you for. Now there’s no more food—get out there and find some!”

Pighead had fled there with a group of his fellows, but after an argument with a minor leader, he’d decided to slip away on his own, hoping to retrieve a handgun he’d hidden in the bar. But as soon as he re-entered, he was disarmed by the bodyguards. The other thugs saw he was no outsider, and Pighead immediately tried to curry favor with the bosses, but they barely acknowledged him. After a couple of days, he was sent out to find food. He felt suffocated staying in the bar but didn’t dare challenge the bosses directly. Given the chance to leave, he recalled the women stashed away here and, driven by his own vile urges, resolved to kill the minor leaders and keep the spoils for himself.

After fighting his way back to the Wangfujing hideout, he found it empty. Just as he was about to leave, Zou Lin, dressed only in thin clothing, leapt out. Pighead’s eyes lit up, and, ignoring the possibility that someone else had already been here, he lunged at her, intent on having his way. He’d just managed to get his pants down when Zhao Qiang took him down.

When Pighead finished his story, he dropped to his knees, banging his head on the floor with a loud thud, mumbling pleas for mercy and promises never to offend again. But his eyes held no remorse, only malice.

Zhao Qiang regarded him coldly. “It’s not impossible for me to spare you. But you have to tell me which bar they’re hiding in.” With that, he grabbed Pighead by the collar and headed for the rooftop.

At the door, Zou Lin stood outside, already changed into new clothes, her makeup washed away, glaring furiously at Pighead.

“Come up with us,” Zhao Qiang said calmly as he passed her, casting a glance at the tear-streaked, wide-eyed girl.

Zou Lin clenched her teeth, thinking Zhao Qiang had been deceived by Pighead’s act. But when Zhao Qiang gave her a meaningful look, she realized he had a plan, and followed.

Though spring had arrived, the wind atop the building was still fierce and biting. The city, which should have been ablaze with lights, was now shrouded in darkness, more like a ghost town. Pighead had a plan: he’d lure Zhao Qiang to the bar. Even if Zhao Qiang was tough, he couldn’t take on the whole crowd inside. Then he’d get what was coming to him.

Though Zhao Qiang was born and raised in Hunan and had lived in Changsha for years, his family hailed from the north, so he spoke flawless Mandarin. Hearing this, Pighead took him for an outsider and, trembling, pointed out the way, all the while plotting how to lure Zhao Qiang to the bar and give him a beating.

“Boss, they’re at the bar in Hualong Pool. Should I take you there?” Pighead ventured.

Zhao Qiang smiled faintly. “You’re smart enough to cooperate. I don’t feel like killing today. You can go.”

Pighead felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and started thanking him profusely, but his feet didn’t move.

Zhao Qiang snorted, drew out Zou Lin’s Type 64 pistol, checked it, released the safety, and said coldly, “Get lost before I change my mind.”

Pighead’s face changed. Realizing Zhao Qiang was serious, he turned to run, but found Zou Lin already blocking his way.

“Brother Qiang, are you really going to let him go?” Zou Lin cried anxiously. “He’s no good. If we let him go, we’ll…” She trailed off, her eyes blazing at Pighead.

Without looking back, Zhao Qiang released the magazine, reloaded, and chambered a round, saying flatly, “I promised not to kill him.”

“But…” Zou Lin protested.

“There’s no ‘but’ about it. I said I won’t kill him,” Zhao Qiang replied, finishing his preparations.

Zou Lin, not noticing Zhao Qiang’s movements, thought he was truly letting the beast go. She stood aside, fury written all over her face, glaring daggers at Pighead.

Pighead, seeing his chance, bolted like a horse freed from its reins.

Zhao Qiang turned and handed the loaded gun to Zou Lin. “I said I won’t kill him. I didn’t say I’d let him go.”

Zou Lin immediately understood. Raising the pistol, she took aim at Pighead, who was struggling with the rooftop door.

“Don’t forget to release the safety,” Zhao Qiang reminded her, turning away.

Gunshots rang out, the bullets carrying Zou Lin’s fury as they whistled toward Pighead. Sparks flew around him; terrified, he dodged desperately. Whether it was Zou Lin’s poor marksmanship or Pighead’s incredible luck, when the magazine was empty, he was unharmed—only the cold wind now carried a faint stench.

Even after the gun was empty, Zou Lin kept squeezing the trigger, the dry clicks echoing in the night. Pighead stopped his frantic dance and collapsed onto the ground. Zhao Qiang patted Zou Lin’s shoulder, took the gun, replaced the magazine, and handed it back. “Get closer. Put it to his head. Don’t waste bullets.”

Zou Lin nodded, took the gun, and stepped toward Pighead. There was a new resolve in her, gentle yet unwavering. Pighead, terrified by the earlier gunfire, had gone weak in the knees. If Zhao Qiang had been shooting, it would have been over in one shot, but with Zou Lin’s wild barrage, he’d only wet his pants in fear. Circling the gates of hell so many times, he’d survived only to face another loaded magazine.

With legs like jelly and the rooftop door refusing to budge, all Pighead could do was inch backward, desperate to put distance between himself and the determined Zou Lin.

“Sis-in-law, I was wrong! I won’t do it again! Please, show mercy—let me serve you as a slave, or just pretend I’m nothing—please, let me go!” Pighead begged, retreating until he was backed up against the rooftop edge, legs trembling uncontrollably. Having heard Zhao Qiang call Zou Lin “his woman,” Pighead hoped to appeal to her mercy, addressing her with desperate respect.

“When those other girls begged you for mercy, where was your pity then? Now you regret it? Too late!” Zou Lin spat, her voice full of venom as she raised the pistol. “You have two choices: I shoot you, or you jump yourself.” With that, she gestured with the barrel toward the darkness below.

Pighead had no escape. His hand reached out into empty air, and seeing that another step would send him over the edge, he dropped to his knees, clutching Zou Lin’s pant leg and pleading frantically—while his eyes darted to see that Zhao Qiang stood with his back turned.