Near the village, emotions ran high, perfectly describing Ye Qian's feelings at that moment. Sitting on a plane bound for China, gazing through the window at the skyscrapers below, his heart was in turmoil. When he left China, Ye Qian was just a seventeen-year-old kid; now, eight years have passed in the blink of an eye. The once immature boy has transformed into a mature and resolute young man, with a shallow scar on his chiseled face, adding a touch of heroism to his originally handsome features.
"Sir, would you like a drink?" A pretty flight attendant approached Ye Qian and addressed a middle-aged man in a suit sitting next to him.
In this first-class cabin, nearly all the passengers were so-called successful people from high society. The middle-aged man in the suit looked at Ye Qian, dressed in a simple and casual manner, with disdain. Indeed, Ye Qian's outfit was overly simple and casual: a faded gray short-sleeved T-shirt, camouflage pants with the cuffs tucked into dusty combat boots.
The middle-aged man glanced at Ye Qian with contempt, nodded slightly to the flight attendant, and said in what he thought was a polite tone, "No, thank you!" He then muttered, "How can someone like that be in first class?"
Ye Qian heard him but didn't respond. He had seen too many self-important people who thought they were the best, many of whom had met their end at his hands.
The flight attendant still smiled politely and asked Ye Qian the same question, because to her, the customer is always right. Even if Ye Qian were a beggar, as long as he was on this plane, she should treat him politely and equally. Moreover, this young man, although not dressed luxuriously, was very handsome and had a bit of roguish charm.
Ye Qian glanced at the flight attendant, shook his head, and said, "No, thank you!" He then turned his gaze back out the window.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out in the cabin. Four middle-aged men stood up, brandishing AK-47s at the passengers. The sudden turn of events threw the cabin into chaos, with passengers looking at the armed men in terror.
"Don't move, hand over your valuables. We just want money, not lives. Cooperate, and you won't get hurt," one of the men said.
Ye Qian slowly turned his head to look at them, then turned away again. The middle-aged man next to him was already trembling with fear.
The man who had spoken nodded to a shorter accomplice, signaling him to go to the cockpit. It was clear that this man was the leader of the group. He wasn't stupid; he knew that once the plane landed at a Chinese airport, they would face certain death. In China, hijacking is considered terrorism, and the crimes they've committed would warrant hundreds of death sentences.
After the short man turned towards the cockpit, the leader instructed the other two to collect the money.
In such a situation, the so-called successful people in the cabin were already at a loss. When the robbers pointed their guns at their heads, they obediently handed over their valuables. One of the robbers approached Ye Qian and shouted, "Hand over your money!"
Ye Qian turned his head, looking innocent, and said, "Brother robber, do I look like a rich person to you? If you want money, ask him. He's wearing all brand-name clothes, he must be rich." Ye Qian pointed at the middle-aged man beside him as he spoke. He was not one to wait ten years for revenge; now that he had the chance, he would take it.
The middle-aged man glared at Ye Qian, but under the robber's fierce gaze, he didn't dare say a word and hurriedly handed over all his money, his expensive watch, and his necklace.
"Brother robber, he even has a few gold teeth in his mouth," Ye Qian pointed at the middle-aged man and said.
The robber's gaze fell on the middle-aged man again. The man wished he could skin Ye Qian alive and swore to teach him a lesson if he ever saw him again in Shanghai.
"Hurry up and take them out, or I'll shoot you!" the robber threatened, pressing the gun to the middle-aged man's head.
"But... how do I do that?" the middle-aged man asked innocently.
"Can't do it? Let me help you!" The robber said, and without waiting for a response, he smashed the butt of his gun into the middle-aged man's mouth. Blood poured from his mouth as the gold teeth, along with a few regular ones, fell out. The man let out a pig-like scream.
"Shut up, or I'll kill you!" the robber snarled. The middle-aged man, terrified, shut his mouth tightly, enduring the pain in silence.
"Now you, hand over everything you've got, quickly!" the robber turned his gun on Ye Qian and shouted.
The middle-aged man silently cursed, hoping the robber would shoot Ye Qian dead. Ye Qian looked innocent and said, "Brother robber, I really don't have any money."
"Bullshit! Who are you trying to fool? Sitting in first class and claiming you have no money? Hand it over, or I'll kill you," the robber pressed the gun closer to Ye Qian's chest and shouted.
Ye Qian shrugged helplessly, leaned back, spread his hands, and said, "If you don't believe me, search for yourself."
The robber hesitated, then glared at Ye Qian and said, "Kid, you'd better not try anything funny, my gun doesn't have eyes." He then bent down to search Ye Qian.
Ye Qian's eyes scanned the area. The short robber who went to the cockpit hadn't returned, the leader was still at the door watching the passengers, and the other robber was collecting money elsewhere in the cabin.
"What's this?" the robber felt something at Ye Qian's ankle and asked warily.
"You can't have that!" Ye Qian said.
"Hand it over!" the robber pressed the gun to Ye Qian's chest and shouted.
Ye Qian frowned, reached into his combat boot, and pulled out his prized possession. A red light flashed, and the robber's eyes widened in shock, unable to speak, his face full of disbelief. The red light came from Ye Qian's dagger, Blood Wave, which was entirely blood-red, like slowly flowing blood.
Since he had already acted, Ye Qian didn't hesitate. The dagger flew from his hand like an arrow, embedding itself in the leader's heart. The entire blade sank into his body, leaving only the hilt visible, showing the immense force behind Ye Qian's throw.