The outcome of the river section dispute was entirely unimportant to me, as it had nothing to do with me no matter who it fell to.
However, seeing that Ah Shui's fate was unknown, I became anxious.
According to what Old Ghost had said, the only people who had been to Jinzi Mountain besides himself were him and Ah Shui.
If Ah Shui died, Old Ghost certainly wouldn't take me to Jinzi Mountain himself. Then, if I wanted to find An Ying, wouldn't it be another…
Thinking of this, I quickly nudged Xiao Shan with my shoulder: "Aren't you going to check on Brother Shui…"
He looked troubled and said, "The match isn't over yet. It's not appropriate for me to go over now."
"Not over? Didn't you see he's been beaten to the point he can't get up?"
"But…"
"No 'buts,' hurry up and check." I urged.
"I'm afraid Old Ghost will…"
"I'll handle Old Ghost. You go quickly."
Xiao Shan gritted his teeth and then went down to the riverbank to check the situation.
I walked over to Old Ghost and offered him a cigarette: "Old Ghost."
He glanced at me, then at Ah Shui on the riverbank, his expression rather grim.
"Ah Shui seems to be out of this round. Old Ghost, could you do me a favor and concede this round?" I asked.
With my words, he naturally understood my intention. After some thought, he nodded slightly and then began conversing with the Beihe mine owner in the local dialect.
A moment later, the Beihe mine owner burst into laughter, appearing to be in good spirits.
He shouted towards the riverbank, and the man who had dueled Ah Shui looked over, then turned and left.
The gong sounded, sealing the outcome of this round.
Xiao Shan carried Ah Shui to a nearby shelter. I wanted to go and see how he was, but it didn't seem like the right time.
As the third round of competition began, I noticed that Old Ghost and the Beihe mine owner's expressions had both changed.
I couldn't quite describe their expressions. From their eyes, I could tell that this round was the key to determining the victor.
Although it was a best-of-three, they seemed to have not taken the first two rounds seriously.
When I went down for the first round, they were still drinking tea. In the second round, they were leisurely eating.
But in this third round, their expressions and demeanor had become much more serious.
A thought suddenly occurred to me: could the first two rounds have just been appetizers, a mere formality?
If that were the case, wouldn't that mean the first two rounds were heavily manipulated?
This would mean that if I had lost the first round, Ah Shui would have won the second. If I had won, Ah Shui would have lost.
I didn't know if my guess was correct, but judging by Old Ghost's and the others' expressions, they truly valued the outcome of this third round more.
It wasn't because the previous two rounds were tied, but because the third round was the real competition.
If my guess was correct, it was highly likely to be the case.
As for why they would do this, I could understand it as them both saving face for each other.
Winning one round each in the first two rounds allowed everyone to maintain dignity, and it was considered mutual favor.
To verify my guess was simple: I just needed to take a look at Ah Shui's injuries now.
If it were really like that, then my asking Old Ghost to do me a favor earlier would have played right into his hands.
With the sound of the gong, two rows of people soon stood on the riverbank.
One row had black headbands tied around their heads, their expressions unreadable, each holding a saber of the same length.
They were Old Ghost's men, ten in total, each appearing very robust.
Fifty meters away, directly opposite them, stood ten more people, but these men wore white headbands and wielded axes.
As the second gong sounded, everyone couldn't help but grip their weapons tighter, ready to act.
The moment the third gong struck, the eyes of the two teams on the riverbank flashed with ferocity, and they let out roars as they charged forward.
Though there were only twenty people below, it gave me the illusion of thousands of troops charging into battle.
I had read many historical accounts of wars, including many records of battles, but those cold words could not convey the shock of the scene.
Now, watching the twenty men on the riverbank, I was greatly shaken.
Blades and axes crossed, and blood splattered. This kind of cold weapon combat made me hold my breath.
Their sabers and axes were incredibly sharp, and the instant they touched a human body, limbs fell to the ground, and cries of agony filled the air.
Severed arms and broken legs flew through the air, accompanied by the sharp clash of blades, a constant clang.
Every swing of a blade seemed to carry the destiny of death. At this moment, I felt how fragile the human body truly was.
Fatty stood to the side, seemingly stunned by the scene, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide.
In a short while, a large swathe of the riverbank's pebbles was stained red. When severed arms fell on the stones, blood sprayed from them continuously.
A mangled foot lay on a pebble, its owner nowhere to be found.
This was an unprecedented slaughter. Those caught in it might not even know why they were participating, and they seemed not to care about the reasons at all.
At this moment, they possessed nothing but the most primitive instinct of beastliness!
Old Ghost and the Beihe mine owner's faces were slightly flushed, though it was unclear if it was from the sun.
Their skin was already dark, and that touch of red was particularly noticeable on their faces.
In their eyes, there was now a wildness and excitement, as if the slaughter before them brought them great satisfaction and stimulation.
The cries of agony grew louder, and the number of people still standing dwindled. One person, wanting to escape this hellscape, ran towards the river, only to have an axe thrown at him by the person behind him. The axe landed precisely on the back of his head.
He fell, and the axe seemed to be embedded in his skull, unable to be removed.
He crawled forward a meter or two, then drew his last breath.
One man from the Beihe mine owner's side remained, while three of Old Ghost's men were still active on the field.
Three against one, the victory of this slaughter was clearly predetermined.
The remaining man was surrounded by the other three. Even from a distance, I could see his body trembling.
The three did not rush to attack, encircling the single man. Perhaps they were looking for an opportunity, or perhaps they were toying with him.
Ultimately, the surrounded man could no longer bear it. He raised his axe and swung at the person closest to him. The axe missed, and the person behind him struck his shoulder with a saber. The blade sank directly into his shoulder and neck, and it took great effort to pull it out.
The man turned, and another blow came from the side. He turned again, and another blow.
Soon, countless blows rained down upon him. The three men surrounding him were like a meat grinder, their faces expressionless, swinging mechanically… one blow… one blow…