After accepting the car, the group tacitly avoided delving deeper into the topic.
No one present was simple.
Ning Lang was the overlord of the southern district and would soon dominate all of Yong’an.
Xiao Yun was the head of the Xiao family, one of the eight great families.
As for Cao Chunhua, needless to say—this old fox’s ability to cozy up to Xiao Yun spoke volumes about his cunning and insight.
After sipping tea brewed by Ning Lang and chatting for a while, Xiao Yun declined his invitation to stay for lunch and left arm-in-arm with Cao Chunhua.
Before stepping out, she couldn’t resist turning back to Li Chonglou and saying, “Chonglou, Xiao Ying has returned to Qinzhou.”
“I’m also your sister. If anything happens, remember to notify me immediately.”
Her implication was clear—if Li Chonglou faced any danger, he must turn to her.
Li Chonglou nodded in acknowledgment.
He saw the two off as they drove away.
At noon, Zheng Rui returned, and the three had lunch together.
Then, they set off in the Hongqi sedan Li Chonglou had just received, heading out of Yong’an.
“Brother, no matter what you see or hear later, don’t take it to heart,” Ning Lang warned in a low voice on the way. “That man has a fierce temper. Even I hardly dare breathe in his presence.”
“Let’s keep a low profile to avoid unnecessary trouble.”
Li Chonglou had never seen Ning Lang act so cautiously before, which gave him a sense of just how intimidating the big shot they were about to meet must be.
Or perhaps “intimidating” wasn’t the right word—it was more like an overwhelming aura of authority.
What kind of person could inspire such reverence in a man like Ning Lang, a true alpha male?
For a moment, Li Chonglou’s curiosity burned fiercely.
To reassure Ning Lang, he nodded in agreement.
After over an hour of swift driving, the car entered a mountainous area in Wuning County.
Following a winding path, they arrived at a large iron gate nestled in a valley.
A guard post and two rows of barricades stood at the entrance, flanked by armed sentries.
Spotting Zheng Rui at the wheel, the guards immediately raised their rifles, their expressions sharp with vigilance.
“Please inform them that Ning Lang is here to see Commander Fan…” Ning Lang stepped out of the car and greeted them amiably.
“Wait!” One guard extended his arm in a halting gesture while the other walked to the guard post and made a call.
After a brief exchange, the iron gate swung open, and the guard waved the car through.
As the car rolled forward, Li Chonglou surveyed the scene beyond the gate.
Rows of low buildings were built into the hollowed-out mountain walls, and squads of soldiers marched past—it looked like a secret military base.
“This used to be Yong’an’s Third Front factory, producing military equipment during the war. After the war, it was converted into a special forces training base,” Ning Lang explained.
He continued, “That Zhou fellow you met before? He’s the deputy captain of the Eagle Special Forces under that man’s command.”
“Though their titles differ by just one word, the gap between them is like heaven and earth.”
“Their identities are classified, so I couldn’t disclose anything earlier.”
“But with your intelligence, you must have already guessed, right?”
Li Chonglou nodded. “Pretty much.”
His encounter with Zhou had made it clear—the man’s skills were far beyond ordinary.
And the bloodlust radiating from him? That only came from taking lives.
In peacetime, no regular soldier could carry such an aura.
The only explanation was a special forces operative engaged in classified missions.
As they spoke, the car passed through the base’s canyon and entered a vast, hollowed-out cavern.
The entire space had been carved from the mountain’s belly.
The arched ceiling soared over ten meters high, stretching beyond sight. The interior was brightly lit, and in the distance, a squad of soldiers trained in hand-to-hand combat, their shouts thunderous—yet not a sound escaped the cave.
Li Chonglou’s car could go no further and parked at the entrance lot.
Soon, a Dongfeng Mengshi roared into view, screeching to a halt beside them.
The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face.
With a jerk of his head, the man barked, “You two, come with me. The kid stays!”
It was Zhou, the same man who had stormed Ning Lang’s mansion that day. His expression was stern, devoid of warmth—sharp as a cleaver.
Ruthless and unyielding.
The “kid” he referred to was Zheng Rui.
Despite his fearsome reputation in Yong’an’s underworld, Zheng Rui now resembled a meek chick in Zhou’s presence, not daring to voice a word of protest.
He obediently returned to the Hongqi to wait.
Li Chonglou and Ning Lang climbed into the Mengshi.
“Ning Lang, you’ve got some nerve these days. The old man didn’t summon you, yet you show up uninvited,” Zhou sneered as soon as they were seated.
Ning Lang chuckled dryly but said nothing.
Not out of disdain, but because he didn’t know how to respond.
Of course he hadn’t wanted to come. He knew that man’s temper all too well—one misstep could spell disaster.
If not for Li Chonglou’s insistence on paying respects, he’d never have set foot here.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. When you see him later, sweeten your words—or you might not leave alive,” Zhou added coldly.
Despite the harsh tone, there was a flicker of concern in his voice.
This surprised Li Chonglou.
Was there some hidden connection between Zhou and Ning Lang?
Unlikely—otherwise, why had they acted like sworn enemies at Ning Lang’s mansion?
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ning Lang replied with a forced smile.
“He’s been in a foul mood lately because of Old Ghost. You’re on your own.” Soon, the vehicle stopped outside an office carved directly into the rock. Zhou parked and offered one last warning.
Then he ushered them out, led them to the door, and knocked softly.
“Commander Fan, they’re here,” he announced quietly.
“Get in.” A voice, resonant and devoid of coarseness, rang out from inside.
Li Chonglou’s heart skipped a beat.
From Ning Lang’s descriptions, he’d imagined this “Commander Fan” as a brutish, fearsome figure—like Zhang Fei from the Three Kingdoms.
Yet the voice carried an undercurrent of refinement.
The door creaked open as Zhou pushed it aside, motioning for them to enter while he remained outside.
Li Chonglou stepped in without hesitation.
Inside, behind a massive stone desk, a lean, sharp-featured man with a chiseled jaw was wielding a brush, painting with bold strokes.
His close-cropped hair couldn’t hide the streaks of gray, but his face bore no wrinkles—clean-shaven, with only the faintest shadow of stubble.
His high nose and piercing phoenix eyes exuded authority even in repose.
Ink stains dotted his white shirt, yet they did nothing to diminish the aura of lethality around him.
On the paper, half of a ferocious tiger had taken shape—claws bared, eyes blazing.
The two entered, but the man didn’t look up, continuing his work in silence.
Ning Lang and Li Chonglou exchanged a glance, then stood wordlessly before the desk, watching him paint.
Neither dared break the sacred silence.
Finally, after over half an hour, the last stroke of the tiger’s tail was completed.
*Thud.*
The brush was tossed onto the desk. Only then did the man lift his head, his gaze sweeping over them.
“So you’re Li Chonglou, the one who killed Tu Gui?” he asked slowly.
A single glance made Li Chonglou’s pores contract, a sense of mortal danger enveloping him.
What kind of eyes were those?
They held mountains of corpses and oceans of blood—cold, detached, towering above mortal concerns like a judge of life and death.
A mere look could command one’s demise.
Fortunately, Li Chonglou’s two lifetimes had tempered his mind beyond ordinary fear. A lesser man might have trembled under that gaze.
Even so, his heart raced, and he fought to steady himself.
Calmly, he replied, “That’s me.”
The man’s phoenix eyes flashed with icy light. “Bold. You dare kill my man.”
“Are you here today to repay the debt with your life?”
The casual question turned Ning Lang pale. “Commander Fan, Chonglou is my brother. The blame rests mainly with me—”
“Silence.” The man’s glare cut him off. “Did I ask you?”
“Even back in your army days, you never knew when to shut up. Some things never change.”
*Army days?*
In that instant, Li Chonglou understood.
So Ning Lang had served under this man in his youth—special forces, no less.
No wonder he’d managed to carve out half of Yong’an single-handedly.
And his years of rivalry with Old Ghost? Now it made sense—he had this connection all along.
Yet Ning Lang had never breathed a word of it.
Suddenly, Li Chonglou grasped why Ning Lang had been so apprehensive.
Given their history, Ning Lang knew this man’s temperament all too well.
When someone like this decided to kill, personal ties meant nothing.
“You’re right to reprimand me, Commander Fan. I deserve it. But Chonglou had no choice—if he hadn’t killed Tu Gui, he’d be dead,” Ning Lang said through gritted teeth, mustering the courage to meet the man’s gaze.
“So it was self-defense, then?” The man’s face betrayed no emotion, his tone flat.
Yet that very neutrality set Li Chonglou’s heart pounding.
Truly formidable men needed no bluster—their power lay in their restraint.
Only the weak relied on loud words to mask their inadequacies.
Li Chonglou had no doubt this man could end him in an instant.
Even with the second layer of the sheepskin scroll unlocked, Commander Fan still felt like an unfathomable abyss.
Ning Lang was clearly terrified. If this continued, things would go south fast.
Li Chonglou took over, his tone measured but firm. “It *was* self-defense.”
“But I won’t deny there was personal motive. Ning Lang’s father’s murder went unavenged for years—he endured humiliation all this time.”
“Tell me this: Just because Old Ghost was your benefactor, does that mean you’d bend the law for him?”
“If everyone acted like that, where would the fairness in this world be?”
*Hiss—*
The moment the words left Li Chonglou’s mouth, Ning Lang sucked in a sharp breath, his scalp tingling with dread.
Panic clawed at his chest—he wished he could muzzle Li Chonglou right then.
He’d warned him repeatedly before entering: *Keep your temper in check around Commander Fan.* Yet here he was, defiant as ever.
Directly questioning, even accusing.
Given Commander Fan’s temperament, this wouldn’t end well. They were in deep trouble now.
Sure enough, the man’s expression darkened, his phoenix eyes blazing with murderous intent as they locked onto Li Chonglou.
In that instant, the temperature in the stone room seemed to plummet.
Ning Lang shuddered violently, his heart filled with terror.