Fang Senyan frowned: "What do you mean by 'training'?"

Just as Yangrouchuan was about to speak, the original Sachima vendor suddenly shouted: "You dare betray..."

He only managed four words before Fang Senyan struck with lightning speed, grabbing his hair and slamming his head against the wall. Then, with a look of disgust, he wiped his hand on the wall and stated coolly: "Severe concussion, cerebrospinal fluid rhinorrhea—at least six months confined to bed. Even upon recovery, expect amnesia, incontinence, and mental derangement. That’s the diagnosis the doctor will write up for him. Anyone else who dares interrupt will face the same outcome." (Mobile access: )

This action instantly subdued everyone. Only Yangrouchuan glanced around smugly, then explained: "The 'training' is usually handled by Boss Niu. The goal is to make the children look more pitiful, which helps them beg on the streets. They usually cripple their legs—this prevents them from running away while intensifying the pity of passersby. They also snip off a piece of the child's tongue so their speech is slurred, preventing them from clearly calling for help."

Fang Senyan said coldly: "So, you're saying my friend's child is still undergoing this 'training'?"

Yangrouchuan nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing: "I can take you there, but after that, I definitely won't be able to operate in this city anymore..."

He looked up at Fang Senyan, his eyes flickering with a hint of greed. Fang Senyan’s expression remained unchanged. He tossed another ten thousand yuan over, saying coldly: "Take me there. Find the child, and I'll add another ten thousand. Stay obediently beside me; no one will touch a single hair on your head."

Yangrouchuan immediately beamed, bowing and scraping as he moved to the front. Fang Senyan walked a few steps, then suddenly turned back, looked at the remaining Uyghur man, and kicked him away with clean efficiency. Now there was one more unconscious person. Yangrouchuan watched this scene in astonishment. Fang Senyan said calmly: "There’s something called a telephone in this world. If you can betray Boss Niu, why couldn't someone else send word? I’m not afraid of Boss Niu being prepared; I’m afraid of him running off ahead of time!"

An hour later, Fang Senyan and Yangrouchuan stood before a high-rise building. The skyscraper was magnificent, easily over thirty stories tall, its exterior glass walls sleek and luxurious, adorned with a giant smiling advertisement for Angelina Jolie. Those entering and exiting were either high-level business elites or drivers of luxury cars like Bentleys and Mercedes. Even Fang Senyan, usually unruffled, couldn't help but ask Yangrouchuan: "Are you sure Boss Niu is here?"

Yangrouchuan gave a secretive smile and led Fang Senyan around to a back door. The security guards at the main entrance hadn't even spared them a glance. Behind the building was clearly not as glamorous as it appeared from the front; it was the rear of the kitchen—the area for slaughtering chickens, washing vegetables, and gutting fish. Filth and chaos were inevitable. They even saw a waiter spitting on an intricately prepared dish, likely venting frustration after being scolded by a customer.

Yangrouchuan skillfully tossed cigarettes to anyone they encountered, ensuring no one bothered them. After a few minutes, he pulled Fang Senyan into a nearby side passage, stopped a few steps in, and then a freight elevator descended with a loud rumble.

Once inside the cargo elevator, Yangrouchuan clearly felt uneasy. He lit a cigarette, his hand shaking so much he couldn't get it lit for a while. Fang Senyan closed his eyes, leaning against the elevator wall to rest, a faint, elusive smirk playing on his lips. When the elevator reached the top floor, it was still pristine, with clean carpets and wallpaper—the look of a Fortune 500 company office. However, Yangrouchuan turned right into a narrow alleyway, which led to a half-open door—the entrance to the staircase leading to the rooftop.

Yangrouchuan lowered his voice: "He’s right above. Someone is guarding the door; I won't go up. I'll wait here for you."

Fang Senyan gave him a deep look, suddenly seizing his left arm with his hand and stepping forward. Yangrouchuan felt as if his arm had been clamped in an iron ring, forcing him to stumble along. After they climbed the last flight of stairs, the space ahead narrowed abruptly, blocked by an old, second-hand rolling steel door secured with a padlock on the small access gate. A drunken, burly man in a tight black vest was sitting on the ground by the door, leaning against the wall to rest, surrounded by a pile of chicken bones and five or six nearly empty beer bottles.

Upon seeing the two of them, the man immediately jumped up, grabbing a beer bottle. Fang Senyan moved forward calmly. The man brought the bottle down hard on Fang Senyan's head! With a loud smash, glass shards and spilled beer sprayed everywhere, but Fang Senyan was unharmed. The bottle seemed to have struck solid granite. He reached out, clamped his hand around the man's throat, and lifted him, pinning him against the adjacent wall. No matter how wildly the man kicked his legs, it was useless until his eyes rolled back white and he passed out.

After finding the keys on the man, Fang Senyan casually picked up a steel pipe lying nearby, opened the rolling door, and stepped onto the roof. Once inside, he didn't care who anyone was—if they weren't a child, he brought the pipe down on them immediately. His strikes were swift and heavy. Those hit could only lie on the ground groaning; none could get up to do anything else.

"Where are the children?" Fang Senyan asked Yangrouchuan directly. He seemed unwilling to waste words on the men on the rooftop. Yangrouchuan, seeing the ruthless intensity in Fang Senyan's demeanor—the kind that could kill a man ten paces away—had long dismissed any thought of betrayal. Without a word, he opened two makeshift structures built of asbestos sheeting and plywood nearby. The resulting misery inside was unspeakable; the stench of rotten excrement and urine alone could make a person reel. Fang Senyan glanced inside, walked over to a man who had been knocked down, and coldly tugged his hair: "Where is He Xiaojun?"

This man, having been struck across the face with a pipe, was covered in blood and tears. After a muffled explanation, Fang Senyan learned that He Xiaojun was quite stubborn. Since being captured, he had refused to eat or drink. Since the gang's goal was profit and they didn't want to cause a death, they had locked him in a small shed next to the group whose "training class" was about to graduate. They planned to deal with the boy later after the current rush ended. Consequently, He Xiaojun was pitifully starved but hadn't suffered major physical abuse, although beatings and humiliation were unavoidable.

The child He Xiaojun's illness had worsened; large patches of red rash spread across his face and body, looking terrifying. Yet, his eyes shone with a stubborn, fierce light, like a small, scruffy wolf cub, radiating menace and the potential for harm.

Looking at the child, Fang Senyan saw a reflection of He Weiguo in his childhood. He sighed, then looked at the miserable state of the other imprisoned children, turning back to ask Yangrouchuan: "Who is Boss Niu? You wouldn't want to leave any loose ends, would you?"

Yangrouchuan’s heart tightened. Gritting his teeth, he pointed to the corner on the left: "He is Boss Niu!"

Fang Senyan looked over. The man was cowering in the corner, dark and thin, resembling a date pit stripped clean of its flesh. His face was a roadmap of wrinkles etched by wind and frost, looking more like an old farmer than the leader of a child trafficking and abuse ring. However, as soon as Yangrouchuan spoke, a savage glint appeared in the man's eyes. He let out a wild cry, shouted a string of Uyghur phrases, and pulled a nang-slicing knife from his waist, charging forward.

Fang Senyan didn't even acknowledge him, his eyes fixed on He Xiaojun. As if possessing eyes in his back, he casually swung the steel pipe, deflecting the knife from the man’s hand. The second strike hit the bridge of his nose; the third struck his kneecap; the fourth impacted his elbow.

These four strikes appeared effortless, yet they whistled through the air with heavy, dull sounds, clearly carrying significant force. Upon impact, there were distinct sounds of bones shattering, and the steel pipe itself visibly deformed. Boss Niu was whipped around several times on the spot before collapsing to the ground, writhing and screaming piercingly. His saliva, mucus, and blood mixed with the dust on the ground, coating his face entirely.

Fang Senyan stood alone, surrounded by seven or eight thugs, yet he seemed like a solitary reef in the ocean, utterly unconcerned by them. Seeing the slightly bent, blood-stained steel pipe in his hand, these thugs looked as if they had seen a ghost in broad daylight. Intimidated by his aura, they all began retreating nervously. Fang Senyan nodded towards He Xiaojun: "I’m taking you home. Are you coming?"

Doubt flickered in He Xiaojun's eyes, but he finally nodded. Fang Senyan led the way out. After He Xiaojun and Yangrouchuan had cleared the roof, he flung back a curt statement without looking back: "I'll call the police in five minutes."

This statement undoubtedly sealed Boss Niu's fate. At this point, with the leadership gone, it was a natural collapse; his limbs were already crippled, and these thugs would likely scatter to take what they could and run. Clearly, this criminal organization was destroyed, and Fang Senyan had eliminated a future threat for He Xiaojun.

When He Xiaojun finally saw his grandmother, he finally acted like a normal child, bursting into tears and throwing himself into her arms. Fang Senyan watched quietly from the side. The grandmother and grandson held each other and wept for a full ten minutes before Mother He noticed Fang Senyan's presence. She naturally offered effusive thanks and even pulled out a massive sum of two hundred thousand yuan. Fang Senyan waved it away, then smiled faintly: "If you truly wish to thank me, Elder, just make me a pot of lotus root and sparerib soup to taste."