Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Heixiazi Gully, north slope.

"Boom—Creak!!"

The deafening screech of brakes pierced our eardrums.

Two dark green Jiefang trucks, carrying a suffocating smell of diesel fuel and a chilling aura, stood imposingly across the bottom of the ditch.

The high-powered headlights turned on instantly, illuminating the snow-covered area as if it were daytime, so bright that it was blinding.

"Bang!"

The door of the lead car was kicked open.

Zhao Shanhe jumped down.

He was wearing a sheepskin coat that was still dripping wet, and a pair of large leather shoes with iron soles.

"Click, click."

He walked straight to the second car, which was stuck in the ditch, without even glancing at the group of people on the slope.

At this moment, the deformed car door was finally pushed open with difficulty by the people inside.

Ergaizi clutched his still-bleeding left shoulder, while Dazhuang carried the rifle, now empty of bullets and with a burning hot barrel. The two of them emerged, covered in dust and dirt.

By the light of the car headlights, Ergazi could see that the person who came was Zhao Shanhe.

The tough guy who hadn't even blinked when facing dozens of people just now had tears welling up in his eyes.

He kept his head down, like a child who had done something wrong, not daring to look Zhao Shanhe in the eye, his voice hoarse:

"Brother... I'm so sorry..."

"I think I broke the axle... and the cargo wasn't delivered... I've embarrassed you..."

Da Zhuang, standing next to him, didn't say a word.

This towering man, his lips trembling, stuck his empty gun into the snow, his knees buckled, and he was about to kneel down in front of Zhao Shanhe with a "thump".

"Snapped!"

A rough, large hand gripped Dazhuang's arm tightly like an iron clamp, lifting him up so that his knees didn't touch the ground.

Zhao Shanhe frowned, first glancing at the bloody hole on Ergazi's shoulder, then at Dazhuang, whose face was full of guilt.

He raised his hand and tightened the collar of Erga's tattered cotton-padded jacket, then slapped Dazhuang hard on the back, making Dazhuang cough.

Zhao Shanhe took out a cigarette from his pocket, put one in Dazhuang's mouth, lit one for himself, and cursed:

"What are you doing? Going to my grave?"

He exhaled a puff of white smoke and pointed to the broken-down truck:

"Straighten your back."

"A car is an inanimate object made of metal; if it breaks down, you can fix it, and if you can't fix it, you can buy another one. Goods are external possessions; if you lose them, you can earn more."

Zhao Shanhe looked at his two brothers, his gaze sweeping across their faces:

"As long as the person is still breathing, you've made a profit."

In short.

Erga and Dazhuang, two seven-foot-tall men, gritted their teeth, tears streaming down their faces as they fell onto the frozen snow.

After reassuring his good brother, Zhao Shanhe turned around.

In that instant, all the warmth on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by a chilling coldness.

He started walking, step by step, up the slope.

Old Wang, who was on the slope, was a little dazed by the car lights.

Now that his eyes have adjusted to the light, he sees Zhao Shanhe come down alone and is putting on some act of "brotherly affection" with him. That local bully attitude comes back to him.

Old Master Wang tightened his grip on his double-barreled shotgun, took a step forward, stood on the large rock, and pointed at Zhao Shanhe, cursing:

"You surnamed Zhao!! You finally showed up!!"

"Remember when you topped up my card a few days ago? I've been waiting for you for half a month! You're finally in my hands!"

"Bang!!!"

There were no signs whatsoever.

No one even saw when Zhao Shanhe raised his hand.

A gunshot rang out, flying past Wang Sanye's ear and smashing a crooked tree behind him.

Sawdust mixed with gunpowder residue splattered all over Master Wang's face!

"ah!!"

Startled, Third Master Wang shuddered, swallowing the rest of his threat. He covered his ears and screamed, instinctively shrinking back.

By this time, Zhao Shanhe had already reached the bottom of the slope.

He held the still-smoking gun and asked coldly:

"Have you finished speaking?"

Master Wang touched his ear and found that it hadn't fallen off, but had just been snapped open.

The shame of being publicly humiliated instantly overwhelmed the fear.

He glanced behind Zhao Shanhe; apart from the two injured drivers, the area was empty.

"Fine, fine...you little brat, you still dare to talk back to me even when you're about to die?!"

Enraged, Third Master Wang brandished his hunting rifle, pointed it at the thirty-odd accomplices around him wielding pickaxe handles and shovels, and sneered:

"How many bullets are left in that crappy gun of yours? Huh?!"

"Open your dog eyes and look! How many people are there in my group?!"

"Including your two crippled brothers, there are only three of you at most! Three people dare to venture into Heixiazi Gully? I think you're tired of living!"

The more Wang Sanye spoke, the more smug he became; the thrill of controlling life and death made even the pockmarks on his face glow.

"Zhao Shanhe, let me show you a way out. Leave the car keys, leave the goods, and give me two thousand yuan as a ransom. Then crawl between my legs. I'm in a good mood today, so maybe I'll spare your life!"

"Yes! Crawl between their legs!!"

"Crawl between my legs!!"

When the mob around them saw that their leader had spoken, they all started making a fuss as well.

There was even a hooligan who was used to running rampant in the village. In order to show off in front of Master Wang, he carried a pickaxe handle and swaggered up to Zhao Shanhe.

The kid stuck his head out in front of Zhao Shanhe, looking like a scoundrel, and pointed at his own face, shouting:

"Hey Zhao, weren't you pretty good at shooting earlier? Come on!"

"Go ahead and shoot here! Shoot here!"

"Grandpa, I'm standing right here. You dare touch a single hair on my head? We, dozens of people, could drown you with a single spit..."

"Smack!!!"

A crisp sound.

Zhao Shanhe didn't even blink before slapping him across the face.

This slap didn't use any fancy techniques; it was just pure, powerful force that miraculously delivered.

Before the hooligan could finish speaking, he was spun around two and a half times in place, like a top that had been whipped into the air.

"puff--"

Several yellow teeth mixed with blood sprayed out and splattered all over the ground.

Then, with a "thump," the kid fell headfirst into the snowdrift, twitched twice, and immediately passed out.

The entire room fell silent.

No one expected that Zhao Shanhe would dare to make the first move when surrounded.

Zhao Shanhe took out a handkerchief and wiped his hands with disgust, as if he had just swatted a fly:

"Everyone heard it; he begged me to hit him."

"I've never seen such a request in my entire life."

This one sentence completely ignited the powder keg.

Master Wang was trembling with rage, his eyes bloodshot, and he roared hysterically:

"Rebellion...rebellion!!"

"Charge! All of you, charge!"

"Kill this arrogant little bastard! I'll take responsibility if anyone dies! Kill him!!"

In a flash.

More than thirty thugs, their eyes bloodshot, charged at us from all directions like a pack of mad dogs, brandishing shovels and pickaxe handles.

Faced with the overwhelming murderous aura, Zhao Shanhe smiled.

That smile was cold, cruel, and full of mockery.

He didn't move, but simply raised his hand above his head and snapped his fingers.

"Smack."

"Splash—!!!"

Behind them, the two silent Liberation trucks suddenly had their huge canvas tarpaulins ripped open.

Followed by.

"Tong! Tong! Tong!"

One by one, men dressed in sheepskin coats, with cold, murderous eyes, jumped off the truck bed with nimble movements, like dumplings being dropped into a pot.

One, two, five... fifteen!

In the blink of an eye, fifteen fully armed men quickly formed an impenetrable human wall behind Zhao Shanhe.

What they were holding were not pickaxe handles, nor fire pokers.

Instead, they were all Type 56 semi-automatic rifles, black and exuding an aura of death!

"Snap—!!!"

Fifteen men, in perfect unison, pulled the bolts and loaded the guns.

The crisp metallic clang instantly drowned out everyone's shouts of battle.

Fifteen dark gun muzzles, like fifteen eyes of death, instantly locked onto the group of people on the slope who were preparing to charge.

"..."

It's like the pause button has been pressed.

Those hooligans who had charged halfway with pickaxe handles suddenly froze in their tracks.

Some people had one leg still in mid-air, but they dared not put it down.

Some people used to hold shovels above their heads, but now they feel like idiots challenging the King of Hell with fire pokers.

The ferocity on Wang Sanye's face instantly froze, turning into a look of utter terror as if he had seen a ghost. His mouth was agape, big enough to fit a fist, and he made a gurgling sound in his throat, but he couldn't utter a complete sentence.

The situation reversed in an instant.

Zhao Shanhe stood in front of the row of gun barrels, slowly took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and lit it for himself.

The flickering firelight illuminated his expressionless face.

He raised his head through the swirling smoke, looked at the terrified Third Master Wang, and uttered a single sentence:

"Come here, Third Master Wang."

"What were you trying to say? Go on."