Chapter 2: To Live Is to Fight with Everything
I clenched my fist and drove it straight into the truck driver's nose!
I didn't aim for his temple or his forehead—I targeted the bridge of his nose dead center and hit it with everything I had!
Blood erupted from his nose. He stumbled backward, nearly falling, swinging his sickle wildly, nearly cutting me several times.
I wasn't much of a fighter, but even I knew my legs were longer than my arms. Fist against sickle wasn't smart. But he doubled over from the pain, clutching his nose, so I lifted my leg and kicked him in the head as hard as I could!
The driver crashed to the ground. I seized the opening and stomped on his armpit. He screamed, his grip faltered, and the sickle clattered to the dirt.
I was about to press my advantage when the driver suddenly fumbled in his pocket and produced a small canister.
Before I could figure out what it was, he aimed the nozzle at my face and sprayed. A blast of liquid hit me square on—instantly, searing pain engulfed my eyes and face. The burning was so intense I couldn't open my eyes. Every breath was agony, my mouth, throat, and lungs feeling like they were on fire.
It hurt... it hurt so much!
I couldn't stop coughing, and the more I coughed, the worse the burning in my lungs became. My body heaved and I vomited violently, caught between coughing and retching, reduced to a wreck.
I realized what it was: pepper spray.
I never thought he'd be carrying something like that. I'd had a chance to beat him, but the pepper spray instantly took me out of the fight. My eyes were barely functional, and I could only stumble backward, fighting to open them, terrified the driver would finish me off.
Fortunately, he didn't.
With so many villagers watching from their windows, he didn't dare escalate. Instead, he bolted toward the old house.
I groped blindly until I found an outdoor sink at someone's house. I twisted the tap open and doused my face with cold water. The pain receded slightly, but I didn't dare rub my eyes—the spray was too potent, and I was afraid of causing more damage.
After rinsing for a while, I stumbled toward the old house, trying to catch up to him.
I'd barely gotten close when I saw the driver and Swallow Lin running out together. Behind them was a woman carrying a blue backpack identical to mine, looking completely bewildered.
My arrival had forced Swallow to abort her double-cross. The driver grabbed her hand and they fled, but not before pointing at me with a venomous glare and shouting, "You wait, you little bastard. I'll kill you soon enough."
I understood that he and I were now permanently enemies.
I couldn't worry about that now. The priority was figuring out the truth. I walked toward the woman. She clutched her backpack nervously, and I was startled to realize she wasn't Nora at all—she was someone I'd never seen before.
Who was she?
This woman wore a thin jacket and was quite attractive, with a refined air about her. She looked wealthy too—her earrings, bracelet, and ring all bore Chanel logos.
I'd assumed Nora would be the one making the trade, but it was a complete stranger.
I stared at her, and suddenly some important details clicked into place.
Wait...
I'd fallen into a trap of my own assumptions. Because Nora was the arson suspect, I'd automatically assumed she was the one selling the gold. But who said it had to be her?
I recalled the scene: when I'd climbed into the apartment, Nora and Victor Li were arguing—one on the balcony, one in the hallway.
After Victor Li had had enough, he'd locked the balcony door and gone into the bedroom. That's when I'd had the chance to take the gold.
But after I took the gold, I'd also sealed the front door shut with superglue. So... how could Nora have gotten to the remaining gold? Did she have the power to walk through walls?
The more I thought about it, the less sense it made. After I left, the apartment was virtually impossible to enter. The door was sealed shut. It caught fire almost immediately. Neighbors couldn't get in, Victor Li couldn't get out. Under those conditions, how could this stranger possibly have obtained the gold zodiac figurines from inside?
She noticed my gaze and tried to look casual, hugging her backpack as she walked toward the exit. I reached out and grabbed her bag. "Hold on a second."
The moment I spoke, her reaction was violent. She spun around and shoved me hard, trying to knock me down.
She didn't succeed, but she made me stumble back two steps. Then she clutched her bag and sprinted toward the provincial highway, not once looking back.
There was no way I was letting her leave without answers. I chased after her. The pepper spray was still active on my face and in my eyes—every breath I took while running felt like swallowing fire. The pain was excruciating, my lungs burning as though they might start bleeding.
It hurt so much... my lungs felt like they were being destroyed, my airway under brutal assault.
But I couldn't stop! This was my last chance. I had to uncover the truth. I wanted to get back to the people I loved!
For once in my life, I had to fight with everything I had.
I pushed through the pain, coughing violently as I ran. I was slow, but I followed her all the way to the highway.
A black sedan was parked on the road, windows tinted so I couldn't see inside. The headlights were on, the engine running, as if ready to speed off at any moment.
The woman reached the car and pounded on the window, screaming: "Open up! Some crazy person is chasing me! Let me in!"
I knew immediately—the driver inside was her accomplice. Whoever they were, they were connected to the gold zodiac figurines!
I caught up and grabbed her arm, refusing to let her go.
At that moment, the black sedan started moving.
Something unexpected happened. Instead of helping her, the driver inside abandoned her without a second thought and sped off.
This was bizarre. People bold enough to trade in illegal gold worth over a million were too cowardly to pick up their partner? Two against one, and they still ran?
The woman clearly hadn't expected her accomplice to be so unreliable. She ran after the car for a couple steps, but nobody can outrun a vehicle.
As the car disappeared into the distance, she screamed "Bastard!" after it. I had her pinned down. I asked coldly, "Who are you? Where did you get the gold you were trading? Do you know Nora Zhao?"
I'd seen the photos of the gold before the trade—no signs of fire damage. Even though gold doesn't melt easily, a fire would leave marks. That meant the figurines had been removed before the fire started.
She didn't answer any of my questions. She just struggled beneath me, complaining that I was hurting her, pulling her hair.
I ignored her. The situation was critical. The police were hunting me, and this area might have cops arriving at any moment. I dragged her deeper into the mountains. I realized how this must look—no decent person drags a woman into the mountains in the middle of the night—but I had no choice.
She kept struggling, and I had no choice but to threaten her: "Don't move if you want to live."
That shut her up. She probably figured I was a hardened criminal and became obedient, letting me steer her toward the motorcycle.
I desperately wanted to question her, but I couldn't stay here much longer.
The villagers had witnessed my fight with the driver. Someone might have called the police. Staying here was suicide.