I'm Here Today to Pay Respects and Acknowledge You as My Big Bro

"Brother Long, Brother Long..."

Not far from the old cotton mill residential area, inside a minivan.

A young underling hurriedly climbed into the vehicle, panting, "Brother Long, we spotted him. He's in the neighborhood chatting with a bunch of middle-aged women."

Kuang Long took a deep drag of his cigarette and grunted, "You sure it's him?"

"Positive. I'd recognize him even if he turned to ashes," the underling nodded.

With a showy flick, Kuang Long tossed the cigarette butt out the window and stepped out of the van. "Let me take a look."

Kuang Long and a few of his men crossed the street, stopping opposite the old cotton mill complex. The distance was a bit far, but Kuang Long had sharp eyes. He could clearly make out the group of women and Cao Cheng among them.

One glance was all it took.

The guy stood out—handsome, oozing charisma. Even among the pretty boys of later generations, he’d be head and shoulders above the rest. Here, surrounded by middle-aged women, he shone like the brightest star in the night sky.

"Brother Long, let’s do this!" One hotheaded underling cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp in the air.

"Do what, dumbass?" Kuang Long glared. "We’re here today to pay respects and ask him to be our master. All of you, stay the hell in line."

"Huh?"

"???"

The underlings were dumbfounded, nearly stumbling over their own feet.

Wait… what? Pay respects? Not revenge?

Brother Long, we’re gangsters. Don’t lead us astray here.

"We got our asses kicked by this guy, and now we’re supposed to call him boss?"

"Yeah, Brother Long, last time we were caught off guard—he ambushed us. This time, we’ll teach him a lesson. I even brought my extendable baton."

"Shut the hell up, all of you!" Kuang Long hissed, waving them off. "Come on, let’s talk this over somewhere else."

Last time had been a disaster.

Especially for his brother, Meng Hu, who took a kick straight to the mouth. The injury worsened, leaving him slurring his words for days.

Kuang Long had been furious too.

But during his days in detention, he’d done a lot of thinking.

The more he thought, the calmer he became.

And the calmer he got, the more he realized—this guy was a trained fighter. A damn good one.

Meng Hu was right. That guy was a real piece of work.

Replaying the fight in his head, Kuang Long tallied it up: eleven of them, taken down in ten seconds. Sure, they’d been caught off guard, but that kind of skill? That was next-level.

Kuang Long had always been confident in his own fighting skills.

His brother, Meng Hu, was no slouch either.

They’d grown up in the streets, brawling their way up.

Never backed down from a fight.

No formal training, but they had experience—years of it.

They’d even built a reputation: the Dragon-Tiger Brotherhood.

The men they’d brought last time were all core members, tough as nails.

And yet, in ten seconds, they’d been wiped out. No chance to fight back. One hit, and they were down for the count.

Not a single scratch on the other guy.

Humiliating.

Pathetic.

That’s why, after cooling off, Kuang Long didn’t even think about revenge. Instead, he started considering something else—learning from Cao Cheng. Making him their master.

But he hadn’t told anyone.

His underlings had no clue.

For three days now, he’d had them stake out the place. Today, they finally spotted him.

Kuang Long didn’t dare barge in. Didn’t want to make a scene or piss the guy off before he even got a chance to ask.

---

Kuang Long led his closest men to a narrow alley beside the old cotton mill complex.

Dark. Secluded.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Lighters flared as they lit cigarettes.

Kuang Long crouched low, his men forming a rough circle around him.

Smoke curled in the air.

From a distance, it looked like they were burning something.

"Brother Long, what’s really on your mind?"

"Yeah, Brother Long, why bow to this guy? I’ll admit he’s got skills, but… since when does the Brotherhood back down from anyone?"

"Exactly, Brother Long. Last year, we went toe-to-toe with the Blade Crew. Eight of our guys got hurt—total loss. But we didn’t flinch. Even now, if we see one of Blade’s guys, we still kick their asses!"

"Brother Long, we can’t show weakness. How else are we supposed to keep our rep?"

Faced with their confusion, Kuang Long took a long drag, burning half his cigarette in one go.

Then, slowly, he spoke.

"We’re all street fighters. We’ve got guts. The Blade Crew’s the same—just more of them. That’s why we don’t back down. We’re not afraid."

"But this guy… he’s different."

Kuang Long shook his head. "He’s the real deal. Every punch, every kick—it’s calculated. Targets weak spots. That’s technique. You understand what technique means?"

His underlings were far from educated.

Kuang Long was the only one who’d ever read… well, novels.

This was before web novels had exploded in popularity. They were still niche, but gems like Zhu Xian and The Legend of the Little Soldier were already making waves.

This year, a new masterpiece had taken the scene by storm: The Urban Emperor’s Legend!—even overshadowing Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.

Then there was The Ultimate Playboy.

The protagonist was a ruthless powerhouse, untouchable in the city, playing the field like a king.

Reading those, Kuang Long had imagined himself as the hero.

But now? After what happened, he was starting to think Cao Cheng fit the role better.

During his time in detention, replaying the fight in his head, Kuang Long couldn’t shake the feeling he was just some side character—cannon fodder for the protagonist to stomp on.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

So…

He figured he had to change his fate.

Like the novels said: A gangster’s life was short-lived. Just like a prostitute, they were trading on youth.

In the end, they all paid the price.

Sooner or later, they’d end up in prison, in front of a firing squad, or dead in some forgotten alley.

The thought sent a chill down Kuang Long’s spine.

That beating from Cao Cheng had been a wake-up call.

"Technique!"

"National martial arts—you get it?"

Blank stares all around.

Kuang Long sighed. He was speaking a different language.

How was he the only one who got it?

These idiots—once his loyal brothers—now seemed clueless.

Couldn’t see the bigger picture.

Didn’t realize opportunity was knocking.

Still wanted revenge?

With what? Their sorry asses?

Kuang Long waved a hand. "Fine, forget it. Here’s the truth: We’re thugs. People might fear us. Rich bosses might hire us as muscle. But at the end of the day, we’re still just thugs."

"Don’t give me that look. Am I wrong?"

"It’s ugly, but it’s the truth."

"You all follow me, call me boss. So as your boss, I gotta think about your futures."

"We can’t stay small-time forever."

"We’re young now. You’re twenty. You’re twenty-one. Hell, you’re barely nineteen. Me? Just twenty-four. Prime of our lives."

"But ten years from now? We’ll be pushing thirty. You think you’ll still be swinging fists then?"

Kuang Long’s words were raw, straight from the heart.

One underling just grinned. "Brother Long, thirty’s too far away. Guys like us? We might not even live that long."

Hearing this, the other underlings all nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, yeah."

They were all street thugs—any one of them could end up alone at some point, cornered by enemies, and either maimed or killed.

In this line of work, no one thought that far ahead.

Anyone with long-term vision either wouldn’t be mixed up in this life or would’ve risen to the top as a big shot.

Kuang Long hadn’t thought about it much before either, but after reading more books, he felt his perspective had broadened.

"You motherf—"

Kuang Long stood up and kicked the underling, sending him sprawling to the ground. "You dare spout that bullshit to me? You dying means nothing, but what about your mom? We’re in this game to make money—money for our families, not to throw our lives away."

"You ungrateful little shit. One more word of that crap, and you’re out. I don’t keep disloyal bastards around me."