I turned to face her, calm and steady.

Long Ge’s face twisted—was it disappointment or rage? She shrieked hysterically,

“You’re not like this… We’ve bled together! Why are you doing this to me?”

“Is it ’cause I turned into a girl? Think I can’t fight anymore? You fucking look down on me now?”

I kept my voice even. “Say that again. Slowly.”

Long Ge’s eyes widened. She roared, “I said—fuck you!!”

In the narrow alley, I watched her silently. She glared back like a cat with fur bristling—

*A bristling cat?* Since when does that describe Pearl River’s Little White Dragon?

Staring at her, she suddenly felt like a stranger.

This punk girl I’d known barely days—curvy frame stuffed into my too-small tracksuit, silvery-white hair spilling softly over her shoulders.

Desperate expression. Slight, ragged breaths. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum over a toy… *This* is the Little White Dragon? Seriously? Who *are* you??

Her whole body trembled.

I let out a laugh. “Long Ge… guess what I’ve been up to these past two days?”

“Someone set up a ‘Hongmen Banquet’—a trap disguised as dinner—and I went. Spent the whole meal calling some punk ‘Young Master’ with my tail between my legs.”

“Earlier, you randomly picked a fight outside the net café. I had no choice but to jump in… Then what? Those guys came back daily, lurking by the entrance. Knives on them. I’ve been taking detours home every night, wondering when I’d get recognized and stabbed.”

“And today? Ambushed by thirty-plus thugs. Machetes. Iron pipes. And me? *Malatang.* You whined about being hungry—I was holding three bowls of malatang!!”

“Went out just to grab takeout. Sister Xiaoxiu’s shop got smashed. She barely scrapes a hundred bucks a day. What’s *she* got to do with your mess? Huh?!”

“Bai Hailong—*guess again*. What does any of this have to do with *me*? NOTHING! Zero! Zip! All because of *you*! Your damn troublemaking!!” I yelled.

Long Ge’s face paled. Her shoulders shook harder. I didn’t stop—laughing bitterly, curses sharp as glass:

“What was I *thinking*? And your grand finale: ‘Is it ’cause I can’t fight?’ HA! Just fuck off! Go die!”

“I helped a thug! A hired fist! I *hate* fighting!! Go be a security guard in our compound and ‘make it in society’ for the rest of your life!!”

“And while you’re crashing here—ever heard of hygiene? Will emptying the ashtray kill you? I don’t ask you to wash clothes—just lift your ‘precious’ feet and toss your damn underwear in the washer after peeing!”

“‘How could you treat me like this?’ What about *me*? Did I shit in your family’s pot in a past life?! ANSWER ME!”

I didn’t pause for breath. Roared every frustration of the last days. Damn… it felt *good*.

Long Ge trembled violently. I sneered, “You fucking reflect on—"

*THUD.* A furious haymaker exploded against my cheek.

Metallic blood flooded my gums. Vision blacked out. I threw arms over my head, barely grabbing her slender wrist—*THUD!* A knee slammed my chest. Not pain—numbness. Force nearly launched me backward.

She roared through gritted silver teeth, “You *cursed* at me?!”

I glared back, roaring, “Damn right I did! You stupid bitch!!”

She yanked my hair. White flash—*WHAM!* My gut felt truck-hit. Nearly vomited.

Two solid hits in three seconds. Teeth clenched, I wrapped my arms around her leg. Swept her feet. She crashed down.

I scrambled behind, locked her neck—her arm twisted mine open like paper.

Hand seized my inner arm. World spun. *CRUNCH.* Back slammed ice. Wind knocked clean out.

Groaning, I squinted up. A snow-white socked foot filled my vision—

Instinct saved me. Head jerked sideways. *Barely* dodged.

That kick *shattered* the ice layer—not a crack, but total explosion.

Block that? Arm broken. Or skull.

I roared, clamped her planted foot, gripped her thigh. Another punch rocked my skull. Agonized scream tore out. Heaved—flipped her. *Thank god* her weight dropped after the change.

She landed on one hand—*back handspring?!* I froze. She charged like nothing happened.

Didn’t see the punch. Just a firecracker blast beside my ear.

Woke up a meter away. Slipped scrambling up.

A slender white leg arced toward my cheek—

*Buy her a damn skirt later. Stop kicking.*

Unavoidable. Pearl River Saiyan’s signature: White Dragon Face-Smasher, Tooth-Shatter Kick, Family-Ending Groin Shot. Any one lands you in ICU.

I hugged my head. Left arm went numb—*broken?*

Fury took over. Wild haymakers. Useless. Four hits in three seconds. Vision flashed black each time.

Screaming, flailing blindly—*This is it. Hospital. Bills’ll wipe my allowance.*

My hand snagged something. Long Ge gasped. Next punch landed weak.

*She’s tired!* Hope flared. I threw heavy punches. She blocked frantically, stumbling back—barefoot now. Winter ice. Swollen face. My gripping hand numb, bloodless.

She slipped. Fell backward. I tumbled with her, landing on top.

Dazed scramble. I pinned her wrists, straddled her bruised and snarling, “YIELD?!”

She panted beneath me, sweat beading at her white hairline. Spat. “Like hell!!”

Spit hit my cheek. Didn’t loosen grip. Wiped face with shoulder. Breathed hard. *Stay alert. What if she’s got hidden MMA reversals? Another suplex…*

Nerves wire-tight. She stopped struggling. Exhausted. Glaring sideways.

I exhaled quietly. Still wary, I wondered—what *was* that round, sturdy thing I grabbed?

Looked down.

A dirty, massive handprint stained the right side of Long Ge’s chest…

*Nah.*

Surviving today matters most.