Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

The next day, at 2 PM.

Under the bridge outside the south gate of the Sijiu City Art Academy.

The scorching sun hung high in the sky, baking the asphalt road surface until it seemed to be sweating.

This place is usually quiet and deserted, but today it was completely blocked by two groups of people.

The atmosphere was even hotter than the sun overhead.

There was a huge crowd of people standing on the left, and a huge crowd on the right as well.

A wide open space separates them, much like the Chu-Han border.

But this isn't playing chess; this is risking your life.

The children of the large courtyard on the left were all lined up neatly.

Each person pushes a gleaming "Flying Pigeon" or "Forever" bicycle, with a military water bottle hanging from the handlebars.

In the sweltering summer heat, these people insisted on wearing their parents' old, worn-out military green long-sleeved shirts over their shoulders and green military caps on their heads.

Whether it's hot or not is another matter, but that's the vibe we're after, that sense of being superior and imposing.

Yang Weihong was leading the way.

He didn't ride a bicycle today; instead, he drove a green Jeep and parked it at the front.

He was wearing a crisp security uniform, and several colleagues in similar uniforms were standing beside him.

The way they were setting up made it look like they were about to hold a small military parade.

Yang Yibai stood next to the jeep, her chin held high.

Her face was radiating arrogance, as if to say, "You bunch of alleyway bumpkins don't even dare to mess with us."

Standing behind her were several class leaders, including Zhao Weiguo, Liu Yuanchao, and Zhu Hongqi, but their expressions were rather unpleasant—they were losing control.

There was also Gao Feng, an upperclassman—he had also suffered at Zhang Dabiao's hands before, losing a music competition. And he could be considered one of the representatives of the children of the compound, so naturally he had to come and see this kind of thing in person.

And Tian Yiming, who had just returned from working in the countryside in Saihanba, was not involved, but he would naturally be happy to see Zhang Dabiao suffer if given the chance.

As for Zhang Mingyuan, who was arrested for stealing a harmonica, he is currently hiding in Saihanba, struggling to avoid the news, and doesn't dare to come back yet.

In contrast, the group of young men from the alleyways on the right appeared to be in a much more relaxed formation.

However, his murderous aura remained undiminished.

To ensure uniformity, everyone changed into white vests and wore faded military green worker hats.

It's not that they don't want to display their bicycles to make a good impression; it's just that very few of them actually own bicycles.

But Zhang Dabiao sat astride a cool sidecar motorcycle, firmly occupying the center position.

Mu Wanqing sat in the sidecar, her hands gripping the edge tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Behind Zhang Dabiao was Sha Zhu.

Sha Zhu not only came by himself today, but also called over several of his fellow wrestling brothers who practice under the overpass.

Because he had suffered a loss at Yang Weihong's hands and was thrown in a back throw, he naturally wanted to get revenge.

His fellow apprentices were all burly and strong, with arms thicker than an average person's thighs, which was quite intimidating.

Further on, there was a dilapidated handcart.

The cart was piled high with steel pipes, bricks, chain locks, and even a few rusty pig-slaughtering knives.

Xu Damao, on the other hand, shrank to the very back of the crowd.

He was holding a mop handle that he had picked up from somewhere, and his legs were trembling.

His long face screamed, "I'm just here to make up the numbers, don't hit me."

"Da Mao, what are you doing hiding so far back?" Liu Guangqi snatched the mop handle from Xu Da Mao's hand and shoved a half-brick into his hand. "Coward, take this! Can a mop handle kill someone?"

"Guangqi, you're my own brother, okay?!" Xu Damao was almost in tears. "I just came to watch the fun, why were we given weapons? If someone hits me with a brick, I'll be out of a job as a projectionist!"

Yan Jiecheng hid next to Xu Damao, his eyes darting around.

He planned in his mind that if a fight really broke out, he would symbolically wave his arms a couple of times, and then quickly pull Zhang Dabiao away.

When it comes to group fights, you have to be clear about your stance and not be a fence-sitter, but your life is your own.

I can paddle!

He Yushui and Qin Jingru were assigned to a more distant location.

The two girls were so anxious they kept stamping their feet.

This situation was something the two young girls couldn't possibly persuade them to stay calm.

"I hope nothing bad has happened to Brother Da Biao?" Qin Jingru's eyes were red.

He Yushui bit her lip: "He's so smart, he'll definitely find a way to get away."

Further away, on the bridge railing, were several teenagers.

The pheasant, mimicking the adults, had a blade of grass in its mouth and its eyes shone with excitement.

"Hit him! Why aren't you hitting him yet!" Bang Geng shouted, waving his fists. "It would be great if we could kill Zhang Dabiao! If we kill him, our family can live in a big house!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a large hand reached out from the side and slapped him hard on the back of the head with a crisp "smack".

"Ouch!" Bang Geng covered his head and turned around, only to be met with the angry faces of Liu Guangfu and Yan Jiekuang.

"Damn it, Bang Geng, are you on my side?" Liu Guangfu pointed at Bang Geng's nose and cursed, "Are you a traitor? Have you betrayed us?"

"Beat him up!" Yan Jiekuang kicked Banggeng in the butt.

Several teenagers immediately started wrestling at the bridgehead.

The commotion here did not affect the tense atmosphere on the main battlefield.

Sha Zhu spat fiercely at Yang Weihong across from him.

"You little brat!" Sha Zhu muttered, "If your grandpa Zhu doesn't beat the shit out of you today, you'll consider yourself clean! That time you threw me down yesterday, today I'll make you pay for it with interest!"

But he didn't raise his voice too much, because Zhang Dabiao was the leader, and he couldn't let the fight overshadow the main event.

Sha Zhu had suffered many losses at the hands of the children of the compound in the past, and with the old and new grudges combined, he finally exploded today.

Zhang Dabiao sat on the motorcycle, silently watching everything, calculating what would happen next.

He glanced at the formation opposite him.

Jeeps, uniform green military uniforms, backpacks, bicycle chains, and the faint bulges under the uniforms of the security guards.

An old movie suddenly flashed through his mind—"In the Heat of the Sun".

There's also a classic scene of a hundred people fighting under a bridge.

As it turned out, both groups found the same big shot, and instead of fighting, they ended up having a meal together at Old Mo's Restaurant.

That big shot was none other than Zhou Changli, a notorious scoundrel in Beijing, who was eventually stabbed to death by a group of young men eager to climb the ranks.

Zhang Dabiao smacked his lips.

The plot is so incredibly similar.

However, this game today might not be so easy to resolve.

Mu Wanqing sat in the sidecar and reached out to tug at Zhang Dabiao's clothes.

"Da Biao, how about... I go apologize to Yang Yibai?" Her voice trembled. "Let's just admit defeat. There are too many of them, and there are security guards too..."

Zhang Dabiao took Mu Wanqing's cold hand in his own and gently squeezed it.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" he lowered his voice. "This is a man's business. You can't lose face even if you lose. Besides, when have I ever fought an unprepared battle? Don't worry, I won't lose."

After comforting Mu Wanqing, Zhang Dabiao turned his attention back to the other side.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of several people in the back row of the compound taking things out.

It's not a steel pipe, and it's not a car lock.

It was a dark, long, thin thing.

Homemade gun!

Zhang Dabiao's pupils suddenly contracted, and a layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.

He'd seen gang fights before, but when it came to armed brawls, the nature of the situation changed completely!

This is going to kill someone!