Chapter Two: Fury

Tang Long carried Zhang Xiu'e on his back as he walked through the mountain ravine, his pace steady and unhurried.

“A college-graduate village official—were you appointed by the county leaders?” he asked.

Zhang Xiu'e pouted, “Of course not. I earned the position through my own abilities.”

Tang Long wasn't particularly interested in how she became a village official; after all, in Fishhead Village, no one commanded more respect than the old village chief.

He smiled and asked, “Has anything happened in the village lately?”

She sighed. “It’s all because of that group from Qiangyuan Company.”

“Qiangyuan Company?” Tang Long frowned.

“Yes!” As they walked, Zhang Xiu'e realized the man was behaving properly, and as their conversation deepened, her words tumbled out like a string of firecrackers. “That company is infuriating. Not only have they seized our Liangou Hollow, but they constantly harass the villagers. I went out this time to seek reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements?” Tang Long felt a chill at the word.

Fishhead Village was named for its shape: one side facing the sea, the other three ringed by mountains. Liangou Hollow was a U-shaped opening to the ocean—a few hundred meters long and over a hundred wide, sheltered from wind and waves, with fertile underwater silt, perfect for aquaculture.

Zhang Xiu'e, fuming, said, “Those people from Qiangyuan Company, emboldened by their numbers, not only seized Liangou Hollow but want to forcibly take more village land to build factories.”

Her eyes burned with anger. “For the villagers’ sake, the old village chief refused to let them have the land. He went to the town and county several times. It seems Qiangyuan’s people were reprimanded by the authorities, so they tried to bribe the old chief. He refused, and their leaders, humiliated and furious, sent thugs to beat him up!”

Tang Long’s voice was cold. “You’re saying the old village chief was attacked?”

Zhang Xiu'e nodded helplessly. “Not only was he beaten, but his injuries were serious. He’s old, too. And it hasn’t stopped there—Qiangyuan’s people show up every few days to cause trouble!”

“Hey, slow down! Why are you suddenly running so fast?” She felt his pace quicken; clutching his neck tightly, the wind whipped past, making her backside cold and her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Tang Long’s face was grim as he raced toward Fishhead Village. This mountain path was nothing to him.

At last, the pieces began to fall into place. Why would the old chief insist on Tang Long’s retirement and return to serve as village chief? There was only one explanation: the villagers had been pushed to the brink, and the old chief, out of options, had called him back.

What would normally be half an hour’s hike, Tang Long covered in mere minutes with his extraordinary stamina.

“Anyone who tries to stop me today—I'll break both his damned legs!” roared a tall, gaunt man named Zhang Kang, a captain in Qiangyuan Company’s security team. Because of an incident with the old chief, Zhang Deshun, he’d had his quarterly bonus docked. Nursing that grudge, and fueled by midday drink, he’d gathered his men and come looking for trouble.

“You made me miserable? That old bastard won’t even rest in death. Tear down the mourning tent, pull his corpse from the coffin, and show everyone—this is what happens to those who oppose Qiangyuan!” Zhang Kang barked, face twisted, as he directed his thugs.

A group of burly men began beating the villagers who tried to stop them.

Tang Long, with Zhang Xiu'e still on his back, arrived just as Zhang Kang was kicking the old village chief’s corpse in a fit of rage.

“Son of a bitch!” Tang Long, eyes red with fury, didn’t even set Zhang Xiu'e down. He shot forward like a cannonball, launching the gaunt bully into the air with a single kick, sending him flying more than ten meters.

The sudden turn of events stunned Zhang Kang’s hired thugs.

Zhang Xiu'e quickly slid off Tang Long’s back, her face pale as she looked at Zhang Deshun’s body. She stammered, “What… What happened?”

Just two days ago, when she’d left for the county to seek help, the old chief was still in good health.

“You all deserve to die!” Tang Long’s eyes burned crimson, and a murderous aura chilled the air.

Within moments, a dozen thugs had their arms or legs broken by Tang Long and were writhing on the ground in agony.

A shred of sanity reminded Tang Long this was no battlefield—he mustn’t kill, or none of these men would live to tell the tale.

“Xiu'e, you’re finally back,” said Aunt Yang, her face drawn.

Zhang Xiu'e frowned at her, voice trembling. “Auntie, what’s happened? The old chief was fine when I left.”

“Doctor Xiao Qiu said he couldn’t hold on any longer,” Aunt Yang wept.

Most of Fishhead Village’s able-bodied young people had long since left for the city, leaving only the elderly, women, and children behind.

“And those Qiangyuan Company people—what about them?” Zhang Xiu'e’s face was ashen, her eyes rimmed red.

Sobbing, Aunt Yang said, “Those beasts, drunk as mules, came and tore down the mourning tent, even dragged the old chief out of his coffin. May they all die miserable deaths!”

The villagers, hearing her cries and curses, broke into collective sobs.

While Zhang Xiu'e spoke with Aunt Yang, Tang Long had already dealt with the dozen or so thugs.

With a thud, Tang Long, eyes bloodshot, knelt before Zhang Deshun and embraced the corpse.

“Why couldn’t you change that stubborn temper? Why couldn’t you wait for me to come home before you did anything?” Tears streamed down his face. “You never even got to enjoy a day of peace. How could you leave like this?”

If only he’d returned a day earlier, perhaps he could have seen him one last time. Childhood memories flooded his mind: the old man, shovel in hand, chasing him up and down the hills…

“You… you’re Tang Long?” Aunt Yang approached.

Tang Long lifted his head and looked at the much-aged woman, nodding firmly. “Auntie, it’s me. Xiaolong’s home.”

She threw her arms around him and wailed.

Years ago, the old village chief would go door to door, saying:

“Xiaolong won another award in the army.”

“Xiaolong sent back a hundred thousand yuan. I’ll see it’s divided among the children who need it for school.”

“What’s wrong with that? Xiaolong was raised by the whole village. He ought to give back.”

Ten years gone, but the bond of blood never faded. Tang Long was not only Zhang Deshun’s pride, but the pride of all Fishhead Village.

“I came back too late,” Tang Long wept.

At that moment, a young woman in her early twenties pushed through the crowd.

“Brother Tang Long, you’re finally back!” she sobbed, embracing him, her grief a mixture of pent-up frustration and joy at seeing a loved one again.

“Come on, tie those bastards up!”

“Beat them to death—avenge the old chief!”

The villagers bound Zhang Kang and the Qiangyuan Company’s security men with hemp ropes, determined not to let them escape and summon reinforcements.