Chapter Two: Gathering of Heroes

The remaining two cards were placed on the strange bronze statue with its vertical gaze; one read "Stone Hands," and the other "Sikqin." Ding Jun knew that Sikqin was the name of Stone Hai’s wife. Stone Hai’s wallet held her photograph—a woman with honest features and gentle countenance, unmistakably from the countryside.

“Uncle Stone, I’ll stay. Even if you try to drive me away, I won’t leave,” Ding Jun said.

He was not one to explain himself much; once he made a decision, he carried it out steadfastly, never wavering.

“Little Ding, I’ve already called for plenty of help. There’s really no need for you to get involved. You were Little Hai’s brother, and now that he’s dead, I can’t drag you into this. Don’t worry, things here will be resolved smoothly; when the time comes, I’ll call you in—”

Stone Hands paused, realizing such words could not persuade anyone. So far, everyone who had received the Silver-Eyed Death Talisman from the ancient Guge had ended up in their graves. No one dared claim it could be resolved, nor had anyone ever survived such a crisis, except in death.

“Uncle Stone, my mind is made up,” Ding Jun said firmly, as if each word were a nail he hammered deep into the old wooden table. “I swore an oath; Stone Hai’s troubles are mine. Unless I die, that vow will remain.”

The girl’s gaze toward Ding Jun was suddenly filled with reverence and gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Ding. I thank you on behalf of Sikqin and her unborn child…”

Stone Hands finally relented, waving his hand. “Alright, Little Ding. Thank you.”

Ding Jun nodded, taking it as his reply.

“Miss Fang Qing, could you please tend to the guests?” Stone Hands said.

The girl smiled at Ding Jun. “Mr. Ding, would you mind coming next door? There’s a sofa arranged there, it’s more comfortable.”

Ding Jun rose. “Uncle Stone, my condolences.”

Stone Hands gave a bitter smile. “Actually, we… Stone Hai and I always knew this day would come—thank you, Little Ding. Go and rest now.”

The girl led Ding Jun out, heading to another door on the left.

“I’m Fang Qing. Please guide me, Mr. Ding,” she said midway, smiling and extending her hand. She had already quietly wiped away her tears.

“I’m Ding Jun.” He shook her hand politely.

Fang Qing’s eyes were strikingly spirited, dark and bright like two black grapes immersed in icy water. Her eyelashes were thick and long, curling slightly at the tips, like a deep curtain.

Ding Jun judged that a girl with such eyes must be clever, quick-witted.

Moreover, as Fang Qing walked, her steps were almost soundless—a manner characteristic of those who had long practiced light-footed mobility. Only the front half of her foot touched the ground, leveraging the rebound of her joints and ligaments, while above the knee she maintained perfect balance.

The cuffs and waist of her black leather coat bulged slightly in places, clearly concealing miniature weapons—likely extremely compact short-range pistols.

The autumn dusk in Tibet brought a rapid drop in temperature, yet Fang Qing, clad only in a thin coat, leather pants, and boots, showed no sign of cold. Her internal strength must be well established.

“What are you thinking, Mr. Ding?” Fang Qing was alert; her expressive eyes seemed to see right through him in a flash.

“Nothing. I just feel it’s troublesome for you to look after me,” Ding Jun replied.

Fang Qing smiled. “Mr. Ding, you’ve seen the worst in Afghanistan. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Ding Jun was startled within; he realized that although they had only just met, she already knew all about him. Of course, there was nothing to hide about his time in the Delta Force. The brutal war had left deep marks on him—anyone experienced in the underworld could sense it.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Ding. Stone Uncle told me all this. He said you’re the king of special forces in Afghanistan, with exceptional tactical prowess, able to take on a hundred, invincible. Girls tend to admire heroes, so I’m very curious about you. Rest assured, I mean no harm, nor would I dare.” Fang Qing spoke openly.

Ding Jun smiled faintly. “That’s all in the past. Now I’m just an ordinary citizen of Hong Kong.”

Fang Qing smiled again. “Mr. Ding is far too modest—”

She stepped forward and pushed open an old wooden door.

As soon as the door opened, a thick haze of Cuban cigar smoke wafted out, making both of them recoil.

Ding Jun stepped back, sharply noticing Fang Qing twist her slender waist and pivot gracefully, retreating in a swirl. Her long, jet-black hair, tied in a ponytail, flew like a cloud as she spun, resembling a waterfall plunging off a cliff—mesmerizing.

On her earlobes, two platinum diamond studs gleamed in the gathering dusk.

In Hong Kong, Ding Jun had seen plenty of girls with heavy makeup and lavish style, but never one as pure and lovely as Fang Qing, with bright eyes, white teeth, and a slender waist.

“Old Stone keeps insisting we wait for someone. Who else? With us brothers here, can’t we handle the enemy? I’ve said before, many people in the underworld are all talk, no real skill, just swindlers. I’ve seen plenty of those empty-handed wolves—”

Someone was speaking loudly; as the door opened, four faces inside turned toward Ding Jun, four pairs of eyes sizing him up with various meanings.

“Master Zhu, Uncle Li, Mr. Qin, Madam Ge, this is Mr. Ding from Hong Kong, a friend of Stone Uncle. Please make his acquaintance,” Fang Qing introduced at the door.

When the smoke had mostly cleared, she invited Ding Jun in.

Sofas lined all sides of the room, but each person occupied one, none rising to offer a seat.

“Greetings, seniors,” Ding Jun nodded courteously.

The one speaking, introduced as Master Zhu, was a tall man with a full beard.

Uncle Li was a chubby, clean-shaven man; Mr. Qin was a thin, gloomy-faced fellow, while Madam Ge had drooping eyes, thin lips, and a slender build.

Master Zhu waved carelessly. “From Hong Kong? Sit.”

Ding Jun sat on the sofa near the door. “Thank you.”

Fang Qing bent over. “Milk tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” Ding Jun replied softly.

“I always say: face whatever comes. Why fear? What use is fear? If you lose your head, it’s just a bowl-shaped scar; eighteen years later, you’re a hero again. Am I right?” Master Zhu continued, spittle flying.

The other three laughed heartily, responding to him.

Uncle Li grinned. “That’s right, that’s right. Old Stone’s been a doctor so long, he’s always talking about saving lives, as if he’s changed his nature. You kill me, I kill you, you hack me, I hack you—what good is clever talk? Look, the enemy’s come, killed his son to cut off his line, then wiped out the whole family. You retreat, they advance, until you’re driven to death, exterminated…”

Mr. Qin nodded. “To hell with it. I’ve been friends with Old Stone for thirty years. If someone wants him dead, they’ll have to get past me first.”

The two laughed, but Madam Ge suddenly spoke in a chilling tone, “I only want the treasure.”

Her five words startled the others, who stared at Ding Jun.

Ding Jun remained calm, neither receptive nor dismissive. His gaze shifted to Fang Qing, who was returning with coffee.

“Coffee, please.” Fang Qing handed him a milky-white cup with gold trim, the rich aroma masking all the smoke in the room.

The three paused, then burst into laughter. “Good, good! Treasure, treasure…”

Ding Jun had no desire to join any topic. In his heart, there were too many doubts and regrets about his comrade Stone Hai’s death. He wanted to speak with Stone Hands in detail, but right now, the pressing issue was the Silver-Eyed Death Talisman from ancient Guge.

“I only want the treasure. However many get involved, I’ll take my share,” Madam Ge repeated.

Master Zhu kept smoking, the thick cigar tip glowing and dimming, making the air murky again.

“Hey, Zhu, will you die if you don’t smoke?” Madam Ge suddenly shouted.

Master Zhu shot up, furious. “Fine, I’ll smoke outside, alright? I’m scared of you… scared, alright?”

He strode out, Uncle Li and Mr. Qin following. After a moment, Madam Ge slowly stood and walked out as well.

The door was left open, smoke gradually dissipating.

Fang Qing murmured, “Mr. Ding, they’re all eccentric, their manners peculiar. Don’t mind them. Actually, they’re here to help Stone Uncle. You should know, Stone Uncle used to live in Zhada County but was forced to move to Tolin Monastery.”

Ding Jun nodded. “I understand.”

When they spoke by phone, he and Stone Hands had agreed to meet in Zhada County. As a renowned medical family in Tibet, Stone Hands ran the largest private clinic in the county. Clearly, conditions there were better than in Tolin Monastery; his urgent relocation must have had a compelling reason.

He remembered, before anyone joined Delta Force, they had to remember one thing: never abandon your comrades.

In the battle at Bamiyan Valley, Kabul, Afghanistan, Stone Hai had stayed behind alone, giving Ding Jun the last chance to escape. It was the most painful memory of his life, weighing on his heart like a mountain, bringing him no peace day or night. He always felt he had violated Delta Force’s most important creed and no longer deserved to be a true soldier.

“That’s good, then,” Fang Qing said.

Twilight faded, darkness gathered, and the chanting from the temple ceased, leaving only the intermittent sound of wind in the air.

“To my knowledge, another very important person will be arriving,” Fang Qing said again.

Ding Jun didn’t ask, simply listened in silence.

Fang Qing continued, as if talking to herself, “In the Yunnan-Guizhou-Sichuan region, the He family of the Five Venoms Sect is famous, but few have seen them. This time, Stone Uncle sent out a hero’s invitation, and the He family responded—they’ll send their top master. Don’t be fooled by Master Zhu and the others; as soon as the He family arrives, they’ll all quiet down.”

Ding Jun smiled, letting her continue.

“Mr. Ding, you’re not interested in this?” Fang Qing finally couldn’t sit still, turning her bright, gem-like eyes toward him.

Ding Jun thought for a moment and replied softly, “If you want to say it, you’ll say it all; if you don’t, no question of mine will make you.”

Fang Qing laughed silently, bending over, and pointed her right index finger at Ding Jun.

When her laughter subsided, Ding Jun continued, “Miss Fang, everyone fears the Five Venoms Sect. If something is serious enough to require their help, it must be extremely dangerous and difficult, inevitably involving poisons, curses, or sorcery.”

Fang Qing raised her head, her thick black eyelashes flickering. “Are you afraid? Are you scared?”

Ding Jun answered quietly, “I am, but I won’t leave.”

Fang Qing clapped her hands. “Good, I like that answer.”

Ding Jun took a deep breath, turned, and gazed into the boundless night outside the door, speaking each word with solemn clarity, “Now, I consider myself part of the Stone family. If we live, we live together; if we die, we die together.”