Jiang Xin Yao tightly hugged the Fei Hong Bang leader’s body, screaming: “San Bao, take Xiangyang away quickly, he’s almost gone, hurry!”
San Bao, panicking, asked, “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me, just take him away!” she cried desperately.
San Bao leaped over from the passenger seat, frantically stepping on the gas. The car shot out, breaking through to safety. He thought that as long as the green hills remain, there will be wood to burn.
He was relieved he didn’t hesitate; five more minutes could have cost Jiang Xiangyang his life. He had been shot twice, with one bullet less than a centimeter from his heart and the other piercing through his neck. The surgery took over five hours, and Jiang Xiangyang was in a coma for a day and a night.
When he awoke and learned that Jiang Xin Yao had fallen into Fei Hong Bang’s hands, he nearly went mad.
He tore out his IV, trying to leave with his weak body to find Xin Yao. San Bao and two subordinates had to hold him down and inject him with sedatives to calm him.
His struggles reopened his wounds, and blood gushed out. Du Jian had to re-suture him and decided to sedate Jiang Xiangyang whenever he regained consciousness to prevent his wounds from worsening.
Jiang Xiangyang truly awoke seven days later and immediately asked about Jiang Xin Yao’s condition. San Bao told him the truth: Fei Hong Bang’s leader declared that Jiang Xiangyang must exchange his life for Jiang Xin Yao’s, and if he didn’t come within ten days, he would never see her again.
After hearing this, Jiang Xiangyang said nothing, quietly eating and recovering, concealing the bloodthirsty violence in his eyes. He had decided to trade with the devil using his own flesh and blood.
On the ninth night, Jiang Xiangyang sat alone under harsh fluorescent light, his pale face cold, eyes seeming to overflow with blood. San Bao watched from a distance as he calmly wiped a thin, sharp throwing knife, known for its deadly accuracy.
San Bao watched for a long time, unable to guess Jiang Xiangyang’s intentions.
Jiang Xiangyang raised a knife to the light, examining it carefully. A faint smile spread across his mouth, its edge reflecting his expression. San Bao felt the chill of the metal and shivered.
