Chapter Seventy-One: The Cremation Boat

Everything that had transpired on the third deck of the pleasure boat was soon spread like wildfire by Wang Jie’s frantic family. The first to hear the news were, of course, the women in Ding Li’s room. Unaware of the specifics, they gathered outside the scene of the incident in confusion. As they drew near, piercing screams shattered the calm above the pleasure boat, each cry more shrill than the last.

Soon, a few braver women, barely able to keep their composure, stumbled in panic toward the stairs. The boat’s enforcers, alarmed by the ongoing shrieks, rushed to the scene as well. In a mad scramble, they collided with the flood of women pouring down from the upper deck, jostling at the narrow stairwell that led between the second and third floors.

One side was desperate to escape, the other burning with anxiety to get upstairs, but neither yielded. In the frenzy, a woman whose legs were already weak collapsed, triggering a stampede. Screams of agony echoed once more.

While all this chaos unfolded, Ding Li, carrying an ornate brocade pouch essential for entering the gambling hall—picked up from who knows where—descended to the lower deck with an air of utter calm. A number of enforcers had already left their posts because of the earlier uproar. Though those remaining eyed Ding Li warily, they saw nothing amiss, especially since he was carrying two large pouches, which only lowered their guard further.

Ding Li was no stranger to this gambling den. The sprawling establishment was, in truth, nothing more than the belly of the ship, partitioned with a few wooden panels. Its layout could be grasped at a glance, and if one wished to cause havoc here, it would be all too easy.

For Ding Li in particular, it was child’s play. The entire casino was built entirely of wood, and its lighting consisted solely of lanterns and candles, each with a simple protective cover. Ding Li, after all, had once set ablaze a Ciren Gang stronghold spanning several hundred square meters at the Guangzhou port.

There was only one entrance and exit to the den, but Ding Li had no wish to harm innocents. Though the place was filled with countless wretched gamblers, he still walked straight to the far end of the cabin. Suddenly, he lashed out with a kick, sending the enforcer standing guard by a lantern sprawling to the floor. Seizing the moment, he knocked over the covered candle. Turning to the stunned crowd, he shouted, “Get out! If you want to live, get out!”

In the next instant, Ding Li planted his foot heavily on the chest of the struggling enforcer, twisting his heel until several ribs cracked audibly. Before the man could even cry out, Ding Li bent low and slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, silencing him at once.

Not far away, another enforcer, sensing danger, pulled a short blade from behind his back. But before he could react, Ding Li’s fist smashed into the side of his face. The pain had not even registered before Ding Li hoisted him bodily and hurled him into a rack of lanterns.

Flames burst forth at the far end of the casino as Ding Li strode steadily toward the only exit. When another enforcer tried to block his path, Ding Li kicked him aside, snatched the short blade from his hand, and slashed at the man’s chest. Without pausing to check if he lived or died, he spun and sent another cluster of lanterns crashing to the floor.

“There he is!” The wooden door of the casino swung open and four or five men entered. One, already inside, pointed his short blade at Ding Li and explained to his companions.

A single glance told Ding Li these were the men who had just been guarding the door. He paid no mind to the fact that the exit was now under their control, moving calmly among the lantern racks as if he were alone, knocking over clusters of candles as he went, indifferent to the spreading blaze behind him. Amid the thickening black smoke, his figure became increasingly elusive.

“Damn it! Has this lunatic lost his mind?” The men at the door had hoped to catch Ding Li as he tried to escape, but he seemed in no hurry to leave. Watching him calmly set fire after fire, they began to suspect he meant to go down with the entire ship.

Business was booming tonight; as usual, the casino was packed. Amidst the flames, terror and panic melded into a cacophony of shouts. The narrow entrance was now a choke point, made worse by the armed guards stationed there, blocking any hope of smooth evacuation.

The fire raged higher, cracks began to appear in the ceiling, and more than half the casino was swallowed by flames. Yet Ding Li remained methodical, if not leisurely, in his arson. His strange behavior unnerved the men at the door more and more, but none dared to rush in and stop him—one wrong move and they would be consumed by the inferno.

“Mad! He’s absolutely mad!”

Finally, one of them, unable to bear the choking smoke, began to retreat, his eyes streaming with tears. He blinked furiously, regaining a sliver of clarity, but his feet were already carrying him backward—he had no intention of staying and perishing with Ding Li.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Boom!

Just as the men exchanged glances, ready to make their escape, a series of thunderous crashes rang out. The whole boat shook. Amid the thick smoke, a shadow darted past, and their faces fell. All at once, they saw shock mirrored in each other’s eyes. Waving their short blades, they began hacking at the desperate crowd, cutting down anyone in their way, hell-bent on fleeing.

Everyone had been rattled by the explosions. In that instant, even the most bewildered realized what had happened: the sound of rushing water confirmed it—the hull had been breached and seawater was pouring in. No one spared a thought for the real cause; none realized it was Ding Li, the “madman,” who had engineered it all.

After smashing open a section of the hull weakened by fire, Ding Li clung to a plank as seawater surged in. Though the current wrenched him away several times, his swimming skills allowed him to return easily. Within moments, water was already a foot deep inside the ship, quelling much of the blaze but bringing its own danger. For the gamblers trapped inside, it seemed they had escaped one beast only to face another.

As the boat continued to sink and the breach widened, the force of the water lessened. Ding Li, still waiting by the opening, finally seized his chance and slipped out. Now free of the current and in the open waters of Little South Sea, he moved as nimbly as a fish. Yet, instead of heading for shore, he held his breath and watched the pleasure boat’s slow descent for a full minute before releasing a string of bubbles and swimming swiftly to the surface.

The fierce blaze devoured the entire pleasure boat, fanned by the nighttime sea breeze. The crimson flames soared skyward like a demon unleashed from hell, flailing its limbs and reducing all to ash.

Even in the midst of Little South Sea, the demon showed no fear. The combined forces of the sea quickly overwhelmed the burning vessel. As the flames gradually waned, only a few broken, smoldering planks remained afloat, while survivors in the water struggled desperately toward the shore.

Those who had reached the shore first were still shaken, their terror undiminished by their escape. Watching the enormous pleasure boat sink, everyone trembled, whether from their drenched clothes clinging to their skin or from the lingering horror of what they had just survived.

No one noticed Ding Li as he climbed ashore. Calmly, he glanced back at the now-vanished pleasure boat, tugged at his wet clothes in distaste, then swept his gaze around, his eyes settling on a clothing store nearby. Without hurry, he left the scene.

“That was the Cloud Pavilion! Old Five Hua’s boat, the Cloud Pavilion!” Not far from the inferno, a sweaty, panic-stricken man pointed toward the burning wreck as Zhang Wu and his men arrived. Though shock filled his face, excitement shone through his eyes. “Brother Wu! The Cloud Pavilion is gone! Sunk! Burned to the waterline!”

As he listened to the report, Zhang Wu did not bother to clarify whether the man meant it had sunk or had burned—he only quickened his pace, his brow furrowed in suspicion. His instincts told him that all of this was inseparable from Ding Li, who had been missing for a day.

Racing to the scene, Zhang Wu found little to see apart from the devastation left by the fire and a crowd of onlookers pointing and lamenting at the sea, including a few gamblers who cursed bitterly at losing their winnings to the flames.

Nearby, a group of Old Five Hua’s enforcers huddled together, fretting over what to do next. Of greater concern to them was the fact that their boss, Tiger, was nowhere to be seen—unbeknownst to them, he had already perished in a locked room at the top of the pleasure boat before the fire even began.

“Damn it! These dogs still dare linger here?” Zhang Wu’s eyes quickly landed on the group of enforcers. He remembered how these men had ambushed more than a dozen of his own brothers that morning, leaving them bedridden. Rage sparked in his eyes. Without a thought for the watching crowds, he drew his machete, pointed it at the enforcers, and shouted to his men, “Cut them down! Avenge our brothers! And afterward, follow me to finish off Old Five Hua!”

“Kill them! Avenge our brothers!” Zhang Wu’s followers drew their weapons without hesitation. These men, supported by the Zhang Trading Association, would never disobey his command. Even in broad daylight, they had no qualms. With weapons raised, they charged in a furious wave.

The fire had already sapped the fighting spirit of Old Five Hua’s men. Seeing a mob of fierce enemies charging at them, blades flashing, they lost all will to resist and turned to flee. Some, slower or less lucky, were quickly cut down, struggling to crawl away before succumbing to the merciless blades behind them.