But unfortunately, let alone becoming a spirit, even if Wei Zhiyuan became a god, he could not escape this lesson.

Wei Qian woke Wei Zhiyuan up with a gloomy face, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and carried him like a sack to his own seat in the carriage. He threw Wei Zhiyuan onto the seat with the motion of planting an onion, and stood beside him, looking anxious as he said, "What's wrong with you?"

Wei Zhiyuan realized that he had committed a serious crime and that he could not be forgiven even if he died - he had to be beaten up, and based on the general rule of "leniency to those who confess", he explained his reasoning process, practical experience and all the steps of evading the ticket.

After listening to his adventures, Wei Qian felt that Sanpang was right. This naughty kid might really be a weasel. He was so clever in seeking death!

Just as he was about to start cursing without regard for public morality, he heard Wei Zhiyuan's stomach suddenly rumble. The boy held his stomach, raised his head pitifully, and looked at Wei Qian with his pale little face.

Wei Qian looked at him, and at that moment, his expression was almost melancholy.

The eldest brother was worn out by Wei Zhiyuan and had no choice but to buy a loaf of bread, a sausage and a bottle of mineral water for the kid from the legendary cart, and watched him wolf down the food like a hungry wolf.

Wei Zhiyuan was full and had a feeling that things would not end well, so he got down from his seat nervously: "Brother, sit down."

Wei Qian didn't say a word, but just looked at him. Wei Zhiyuan felt a gust of cold wind around his neck. He didn't even dare to breathe and sat back silently.

For the remaining nearly twenty hours, Wei Qian stood the entire time, leaning against the back of his chair.

They got off the train in a city in Guangdong, found a place to rest, checked into a small, reasonably priced hotel, and slept soundly.

After waking up, Wei Qian took a shower and bought some boxed lunches to eat. After the two brothers had rested and eaten well, Wei Zhiyuan got the beating he wished for.

After the exciting men's singles match, Wei Qian contacted Zhao Laojiu using the hotel front desk phone. He then took out twenty yuan from his pocket and gave it to Wei Zhiyuan, sternly warning him: "If you are hungry, go out and buy something to eat. Don't leave here more than a hundred meters. If you dare to run around again, I will break your legs."

Wei Zhiyuan: “Oh.”

Wei Qian slapped him hard on the thigh: "Did you hear that?"

Wei Zhiyuan quickly straightened his chest and raised his head, put his middle finger against the seam of his pants, and reported in the tone of the Nazis shouting "Long live the Führer": "I heard it!"

Not long after, a man on a motorcycle came down from the building and took Wei Qian away.

Wei Zhiyuan stuck his head out of the window and watched his elder brother leave.

The summer here is extremely hot and the air is humid, like a big steamer. It seems that my brother plans to stay here for more than a month.

Wei Zhiyuan didn't want to cause him any trouble, so he lay on the bed with full concentration, leaving his buttocks swollen from being beaten, while thinking about how he could avoid becoming a burden.

Zhao Laojiu had returned before Wei Qian and enthusiastically invited him to dinner. After three rounds of drinks, he took out a contract and showed it to him.

Wei Qian's alcohol tolerance is just average, not comparable to those who can drink a lot, but the strings in his heart are so tight that he manages to appear very clear-headed.

He knew that this contract was a joke. Fighting underground boxing itself was illegal. Signing it did not mean that he was bound by the law and could not breach the contract. Instead, it was a declaration that he was handing over his life - voluntary, life and death were cleared, money was paid, and no one owed anyone anything.

The prices were marked on it, arranged by level. The lowest level would earn one thousand for winning a match, and the higher the level, the more money one would win. If one challenged a top boxing champion and won, one could get an unimaginable price in Wei Qian's eyes... Of course, he just took a look and didn't have any inappropriate thoughts - he had heard of these top boxing champions. These people had undergone extremely harsh training. One leg could sweep out a ton. If they were really kicked hard by him, they could fly off the stage and have their internal organs ruptured. It was no joke.

Zhao Laojiu coldly watched him ponder over the contract and found that this kid was warm on the outside but cold on the inside. He was very skilled in the art of toasting and drinking and taking advantage of the situation. He knew very well how to give people face, but when it came to the real deal, he was not so easy to fool.

Zhao Laojiu lit a cigarette, glared at Wei Qian and said, "The rules are similar everywhere, so there's no need for you to read them. Let me tell you what's different here. First, you can't just come and go as you please. Even if you want to leave, you have to finish three games for me. The Fourth Master will provide food and lodging, but you have to give him face. You understand this, right?"

Wei Qian remained calm: "What else?"

"Once the arrow is shot, there is no turning back," Zhao Laojiu continued, "Once you are on the stage, you can only move forward, not backward, and you can only be promoted, not demoted. You have to listen to me... that is, the Fourth Master's arrangements on when to go on stage and how to fight."

This means that even if his legs were broken in the morning, at the order of Boss Hu in the afternoon, he would have to crawl onto the ring and fight against someone stronger than before.

Wei Qian lowered his eyes and thought for a moment: "Brother Jiu, there really is no such rule in other places."

"Of course I know this, Brother Jiu. That's why we have extra benefits! The money won from the competition is extra, and this..." Zhao Laojiu held a cigarette in his mouth, fished out his wallet from his arms, and casually pulled out a stack of RMB, pushing it to Wei Qian, "Deposit, you just arrived, you must be feeling uncomfortable with the climate, right? Eat something good, it's a token of my appreciation."

Wei Qian took a quick look and saw one thousand yuan.

He didn't reach out to take it, but just smiled as awkwardly as possible: "Brother Jiu, aren't you afraid that I will run away with the money?"

Zhao Laojiu reached out his greasy hand and patted his shoulder vigorously, laughing: "Such a small amount of pocket money, I don't care about your ninth brother - you are young, I won't call you Brother Wei hypocritically - Xiao Wei, you are young and have a bright future. Young people can't be greedy for money, but they can't not be greedy for money. Those who are too short-sighted will never achieve great things in their lives. Do you think it makes sense?"

Wei Qian looked at him, slowly picked up the small stack of RMB, and stuffed it into his pocket. The thin banknotes pressed heavily on his chest like a lead ball. Zhao Laojiu smiled with satisfaction and continued, "In addition to the deposit, the Fourth Master will also give you a commission. If you win a game, in addition to the bonus, he will give you double the reward. You will know when the time comes. 1,800 yuan? Hehe, just pocket money."

Zhao Laojiu booked a new room for Wei Qian in a hotel near the boxing ring, and asked the boy on the motorcycle to deliver meals to him every day and buy him whatever he ordered. Wei Qian said hello to the boy on the motorcycle, went to the hotel to check out first, picked up Wei Zhiyuan, and after settling this burdensome little guy down, he went to the boxing ring alone.

The boxing ring is indeed new, and there are workers installing light bulbs in the corner.

The area around the stage is very dark, with non-glaring lights only shining on the stage to avoid distracting the boxers' attention. The so-called "stage" is an area surrounded by yellow lines in the middle, and people walk around it. As long as they are not afraid of being accidentally injured, they can get as close as they want.

The guest seats are a little higher and further away. There are quite a few guests, but the place is not full, and they are all dressed quite decently.

Most of the people in the boxing ring are men, but there are women as well. Some are female boxers. Basically, they are big and strong with ferocious faces. You can't tell they are women if you don't tell them. Others are dressed ambiguously and are as beautiful as spring flowers. Most of them are entertainers who shuttle between the guest seats.

Wei Qian slipped in and very low-key found a dark place, waiting to watch the show begin.

When the lights of several stadiums came on at the same time, deafening whistles and loud shouts of swear words broke out in the crowd. Wei Qian narrowed his eyes and looked towards the stage closest to him.

There were two men standing in the middle of the stage, both shirtless. One of them was a 1.9-meter-tall muscular man with muscular body. He moved his neck and limbs slowly, as if he wanted to deliberately put pressure on his opponent.

His opponent was facing Wei Qian. This man could not be said to be short, but compared to the burly man opposite him, he seemed a little malnourished. There was a long scar on his chest, like an ugly centipede lying on his body. Under the light, his eyes were bloodshot.

Wei Qian had good eyesight. Not far away, he saw that the corners of the man's eyes were twitching nervously.

Wei Qian's muscles instinctively tightened. He felt that there seemed to be something wrong with this man.

The dealer put a table behind the stage, and the beauties began to encourage everyone to place bets. The odds for the strong man and Scar were one to two, and many people squeezed over to place bets. Wei Qian made room and stepped back a step.

At this time, a young man in a vest rushed up, holding a big bell in his hand, which made a loud clanging sound, indicating that the show had begun.

There are no professional referees here. Everyone is a referee. Once you are on the stage, there are no rules. No matter life or death, the fight will end until one person stands and the other lies down.

Before Wei Qian's attention was drawn away from the young man in big shorts and a big vest, the sturdy man threw a left hook at his opponent's face. He was wearing boxing gloves, and his fist looked as big as a basketball. The scarred man was caught off guard and his face tilted to the side. His nose immediately bled, and Wei Qian suspected that his nose bridge was crooked.

The noise behind him was so deafening that it hurt his ears.

A sudden heavy blow to the head can easily cause concussion. Anyone who has been hit by a beer bottle knows the feeling. If the hit is heavy, you will be stunned on the spot. But the scarred man's head seemed to be made of iron, and he didn't care at all. He didn't even wipe the blood from his nose. He pounced on the man and grabbed the strong man's two arms, which were as thick as ordinary people's thighs, with his bare hands. He fired into the strong man's arms that were forced to open like a cannonball, and stabbed the strong man's heart with his elbow.

The sturdy man's internal organs were severely damaged. He retreated three or four steps successively. His steps immediately seemed weak. Before he could come to his senses, the scarred man let out a strange cry and kicked him, directly kicking the sturdy man to the ground on his back.

Wei Qian and everyone else stretched their necks to look. Normally, when one side fell to the ground, the referee should count the seconds, but there was no referee and no one to stop him. The scarred man pressed forward and punched and kicked the sturdy man like a mad mole, screaming as if he was sick.

The audience became excited as if they had taken drugs, some were shouting, some were cheering. Someone broke a wine glass not far away, and the smell of beer wafted over, mixed with the stench of sweat and blood. Wei Qian couldn't help but lean against the handrail of the stairs, his palms soaked with sticky cold sweat.

Until then, the sturdy man who was beaten up cried for mercy and raised his hands above his head. Three or four men who looked like bodyguards jumped onto the stage, picked up the scarred man who looked like a madman, and pulled the two men apart.

The young man who had just rung the bell ran up and raised one of the scarred man's hands. Everyone cheered loudly, and those who won the bet rushed forward to get their money from the dealer.

Wei Qian didn't care who won or lost. He stared at the scarred man who won the game. His face was covered in blood, and the red bloodshot in his eyes was more obvious. His eyeballs were moving at an unnatural speed, his chest was heaving violently, and his expression was blank and dazed.

He seemed to have not yet come to his senses before he was led away by the young man.

The exit was right next to Wei Qian. Wei Qian watched the scarred man walking towards him with a wooden expression. Then, when he was about to pass by him, the man suddenly stopped, his eyes suddenly widened, his pupils contracted violently, and he fell to the ground. The man first twitched, then foamed at the mouth, and finally struggled violently for a few times before he became motionless.

Wei Qian took another step back and stood on two steps. He looked down at the man lying on his back and stared at him for a moment. With the dim light, he judged that the man was dead.

A chill ran up his spine along his tailbone.