Chapter 102: Iron Bull and Dog (3.3)

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In an unnamed small town in Pudong, the atmosphere was lively and bustling. Fruit vendors, street stall owners, and sellers of various counterfeit and smuggled goods called out continuously. Because there was an industrial park nearby, many migrant workers rented homes in this town, resulting in a steady flow of people coming and going at this hour.

Outside a Lanzhou noodle shop, a luxurious black Mercedes G500 SUV suddenly pulled up. The sleek, heavy-looking vehicle caught the attention of car enthusiasts, who marveled silently. This off-road model had just been released this year, reportedly priced near 1.8 million yuan. Yet, those unfamiliar with cars were more captivated by the two men stepping out of the vehicle.

The two men looked quite comical.

The taller man was nearly two meters in height, with a shaved head and pale skin. He wore a loose white tank top—no one knew where he had gotten it, as such tops were rare at the market—paired with black shorts and an enormous pair of white sneakers, large enough to fit a slender baby inside. His face bore a gentle, simple smile. After stepping out, he grinned at the curious onlookers before glancing at the Lanzhou noodle sign. Smiling warmly at the noodle maker kneading dough inside, he said, “Master, give me a pound of Lanzhou noodles, and add plenty of beef!”

The noodle maker turned around and was startled. Damn, this guy looks terrifyingly imposing—he could almost be mistaken for Yao Ming. Though the tall youth smiled softly, standing before him felt overwhelmingly oppressive. He recalled a phrase he once learned: “Gazing up at towering mountains,” which perfectly captured the sensation.

“Boss, give me a bowl of knife-cut noodles. No beef, no garlic, just two liang.” The speaker was the shorter companion, significantly shorter but still standing at about 1.7 meters. Next to his towering friend, he seemed diminutive.

This shorter man’s appearance contrasted sharply with his companion’s. He wore shoulder-length hair, large hoop earrings, and had darker skin with thick lips. His attire consisted of a red plaid shirt and cropped pants. An MP3 player was plugged into his ear as he walked with a slight sway of his hips. His voice carried a flirtatious tone, and while he smiled, it was a lighthearted, almost frivolous smile. He even shot a playful wink at the female shop owner, who quickly retreated to the back room, clearly unnerved.

“Don’t listen to him, boss. Give him a beef noodle bowl too, with extra beef and garlic!” The tall youth, called Tieniu, tugged his companion inside and seated him.

The shorter man, a little annoyed yet resigned, protested, “I’m telling you, Tieniu, you’re too much. Just because you like noodles doesn’t mean I have to eat them too. Even if you drag me in, you can’t force me to eat beef and garlic. You know I don’t like them. Why force me?”

Tieniu yanked the MP3 player from the shorter man’s ear and grinned foolishly. “I don’t care. I didn’t like it before either, but it’s fine now. Feige likes it, so I like it too! And, Gouzi, I’ve told you many times—whatever Feige likes, we have to like. No disobedience, or I’ll beat you up!”

Gouzi rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated but silent. It wasn’t fear of Tieniu; they had grown up and trained together since childhood, sharing a brotherly bond stronger than blood. He knew Tieniu was stubborn and impossible to argue with. Tieniu ignored everyone except Long Fei, their leader, whom he adored. Though Tieniu cared about Gouzi, his loyalty to Long Fei was unmatched.

Still, Gouzi wondered why he had to be dragged along in this admiration. It left him a bit downhearted. But Tieniu was a man of his word, and Gouzi dared not utter a word against Long Fei. He had learned the hard way—once, for speaking ill of Long Fei, Tieniu had beaten him so badly he was bedridden for half a month. Yet during that time, Tieniu cared for him devotedly, even brainwashing him to stay loyal to Long Fei. This ordeal nearly brought Gouzi to tears, and since then, he never dared to speak ill of Long Fei in Tieniu’s presence.

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Despite this, Gouzi often felt a bit frustrated being with Tieniu. It wasn’t that he was less loyal to Long Fei or less close to him—they shared a deep bond—but Tieniu’s favoritism toward Long Fei over him seemed unfair. Why, despite spending far more time with Tieniu, did Tieniu reserve his best affection only for Long Fei? Tieniu’s explanation was simple: when he was a vagabond nearly starved under an unknown bridge, Long Fei had saved him with half a steamed bun. Since then, his life belonged to Long Fei.

“Sir, what exactly would you like to eat?” The shop owner’s wife dared not ask, so the boss came over, puzzled whether to follow Tieniu’s or Gouzi’s order.

Gouzi waved his hand. “Just go with his.”

There was no choice. Nowadays, while strength no longer solely defined a man’s worth, between Gouzi and Tieniu, Gouzi was always the weaker. Though he tried to accommodate Tieniu, Tieniu’s fists were harder, and Gouzi had to yield. He couldn’t let a minor disagreement ruin their brotherhood. Like Tieniu, Gouzi had once been a vagabond, almost captured to serve as a beggar’s pawn. Long Fei had saved him then too, nearly risking his life. Thus, he was also a sworn brother to Long Fei, and naturally, to Tieniu.

Sometimes, despite feeling unfairly treated, Gouzi was grateful for a simple, loyal brother like Tieniu. Tieniu might throw punches often, but since the incident that left Gouzi bedridden for weeks, he had been careful never to hurt him again. Tieniu was the type who found it harder to control his strength than to use it.

In public, Tieniu protected Gouzi fiercely. Gouzi’s real talent wasn’t fighting, but tracking—both in reality and online. His nickname was fitting; he was a ghost in the shadows. Few places escaped his digital reach, including servers of the White House and Swiss banks.

On missions, Gouzi handled tracking and intelligence, while Tieniu was the executor. Their main task was cleaning up society’s garbage, a term defined by Long Fei’s godfather, the old man who trained and raised them.

The contrasting pair, decked out in extreme styles, driving a dazzling SUV to a humble beef noodle shop puzzled many. Within half an hour, the entire town knew about the two oddballs at this noodle shop, drawing crowds of curious onlookers who kept their distance. Some dared to enter for a bowl, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gouzi and Tieniu, much to the shop owner’s delight.

Amid the spectators’ curious gazes, Tieniu devoured a large bowl of noodles without leaving a drop of broth. Since a suitable bowl wasn’t found after cooking a pound of noodles, the owner served it in a clean basin. Tieniu was unbothered, eating with the eagerness of a wolf eyeing a naked beauty. His voracity amazed everyone, though his manners left much to be desired.

Having traveled the world with Tieniu, Gouzi’s skin had thickened. Despite the crowd’s whispers, he ate his less-than-delicious noodles solemnly.

Gouzi used to enjoy noodles but had grown tired of them. Now, noodles disgusted him like a foul odor, yet he had to eat—if not, Tieniu would be displeased or even punish him by withholding food.

He thought back to the Red Army, who once survived on leather straps, so he resigned himself to these beef noodles, which surely tasted better.

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Tieniu nearly licked the bowl clean. For an ordinary bowl of beef noodles, his enthusiasm was remarkable.

Tieniu finished his meal swiftly, while Gouzi had only taken a few elegant bites, his expression suggesting the noodles tasted like poison. The contrast was puzzling—if the noodles were terrible, why did Tieniu enjoy them so much? If they weren’t, why did Gouzi grimace so painfully?

Exiting the noodle shop, Tieniu grinned broadly at the crowd without looking back and headed straight to the jeep. To squeeze in, he bent himself like a bow and ducked his head as he climbed into the driver’s seat. The shop owner did not ask for payment, intimidated by Tieniu’s imposing demeanor and the fact that Gouzi was still eating.

Starting the engine, Tieniu honked and called to Gouzi, “Are you coming or not? If you don’t move, I’ll leave without you!”

Gouzi stood up, thinking the food wasn’t worth it anyway. He handed a large bill to the owner and said no change was needed, then quickly got into the car. Since Tieniu was a man of action, if he delayed any longer, he might end up chasing the jeep like a dog chasing a motorcycle—an absurd image.

Sure enough, as soon as Gouzi got in, Tieniu floored the accelerator, speeding off so fast that onlookers nearly shouted in surprise. Ignoring the town’s gossip, Tieniu drove straight out of town.

As the roads in the outskirts worsened and streetlights disappeared, Tieniu’s speed did not slow. He asked Gouzi, “Are you sure Feige is nearby?”

Without looking up from his laptop, where a red dot blinked steadily, Gouzi replied, “Tieniu, why do you always doubt my skills? We’ve been through so much together—have I ever given wrong intel? And you can see for yourself; we’re getting closer to the destination.”

With a goofy smile, Tieniu said, “I just really want to see Feige. Oh, we’re here!”