Although Tie Wuqing had stepped in to stop him, Meng Changhe was still unwilling to let Su Xin off so easily.
The hatred of a son's murder was irreconcilable. Meng Changhe had only one son, and at his age, he wasn't going to have another.
"Lord Tie, didn't you just say I was bullying someone younger than me? Fine, I won't act. I'll have one of my disciples fight Su Xin in a life-or-death match. Does he dare?"
Tie Wuqing turned to look at Su Xin.
Without the slightest hesitation, Su Xin nodded. "All right. I accept this life-and-death duel."
Meng Changhe said coldly, "Three days from now, I'll set up the arena in Changde Ward. There'll be no end until one of us is dead!"
With that, Meng Changhe turned and left with his men.
What had been a bloody massacre ended as abruptly as a tiger with a snake's tail. Still, the other gangs hadn't come away empty-handed. At the very least, they now knew that Tie Wuqing, Chief Constable of the East Twelve Wards, was someone they absolutely could not afford to provoke!
Before Sha Feiying left, he wanted to say something, but seeing Tie Wuqing there, he could only glare hatefully at Su Xin before turning away.
Su Xin cupped his hands toward Tie Wuqing. "Thank you for coming to my aid today, Lord Tie."
Tie Wuqing's faint smile returned. He waved a hand. "You've helped me so many times. It's only right that I return the favor once. By the way, if you really want to thank me, make me two more iron balls. That one just got covered in that idiot's blood, and I don't want it anymore."
"Forget iron balls—even gold ones would be no problem," Su Xin said with a smile.
"Don't.