Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Bone-Shifting Technique

Wang Hou’s next move left me utterly astonished. I watched as he suddenly grabbed the fat man's arm, pulling at his shoulder and elbow, then twisted his hands in opposite directions—

With a crack, the fat man's left arm was instantly dislocated by Wang Hou!

I exclaimed in shock, “Bone-dislocating technique! After three years, you still...”

This was Wang Hou’s signature skill! That feeling of forcibly tearing a person’s shoulder apart—I couldn’t even imagine it.

The fat man’s eyes filled with tears from the pain. His mouth hung open, but he couldn’t utter a sound. Whether he wanted to scream, I wasn’t sure, but judging by his expression, I felt an urge to howl on his behalf.

So I patted his chubby face and gently told him, “Now you understand, don’t you? This is what they call ‘the elephant has no form; great pain leaves no trace.’”

The fat boss nodded as he convulsed, though I couldn’t tell if he agreed with me or was simply seized by spasms from the pain. Either way, it looked almost comical.

Honestly, I thought torturing him like this was inhumane, but after the shock subsided, I realized Wang Hou was right. These were extraordinary times, and dealing with a special “prisoner” like this fat boss required special measures, special attention.

Once the worst of the pain had passed, I crouched down and patted his shoulder, putting on a stern face. “Confess! Save yourself further suffering!”

The fat man shook his head in response.

“You mainland police beat people! This is interrogation by torture! I won’t say anything until my lawyer arrives!”

His answer surprised me—not because he was stubborn, but because he continued to insist we were police. Had he crossed paths with the police before? Or done something even worse than running a shady business? Otherwise, he wouldn’t fear the police to this extent.

I had to pry open his mouth. If we couldn’t catch Xiao Jiu’er, we’d have no explanation for Hongye or ourselves.

So I gestured to Wang Hou to follow my lead, and he chuckled as he said to the fat boss, “Who said this was interrogation by torture? Your arm got hurt when you resisted, and my brother is helping you with treatment!”

By now, some of the pain had likely subsided for the fat man. He stopped trembling, even dared to raise his arm and protest, “You dislocated my arm! What kind of treatment is this? Who treats people like that?”

I was eager for him to say just that.

Immediately, I told Wang Hou, “The boss is angry! Heal his shoulder for him!”

Wang Hou didn’t hesitate; his hands moved again, twisting the fat man’s arm—

With another crisp snap, the dislocated limb was forcibly set back in place.

The fat man’s porcelain teeth were bared in agony—he looked absolutely miserable.

From my experience in the military medical unit, I knew that setting a dislocated joint was often even more painful than the dislocation itself. It felt like a sharp, bone-splitting snap. Someone with poor constitution could easily faint from it.

Smiling, I patted his broad back and continued in my stern guise, “See? My friend here is highly skilled. He’s healed your injury. Aren’t you ready to talk?”

But the fat boss still shook his head, stubbornly refusing to speak.

I had to admit, his attitude amazed me. I’d never seen anyone withstand the bone-dislocating technique once, let alone survive the whole ordeal and remain so defiant. It was as if he’d rather die than yield.

But no matter how tough he was, I had to find a way to break him. If his bones were hard, my heart had to be harder.

So, patting his back, I tried one last time, “Have you thought it through? Tell us about Xiao Jiu’er—”

“I can’t! Xiao Jiu’er will kill me... Officer Wang, you might as well shoot me now!”

His words were soaked in uncontrollable fear, leaving Wang Hou and me exchanging glances.

What kind of terror could drive a man to say such things?

And his expression—utterly unfamiliar to me—was filled with despair steeped in fear. It made me suspect the fat boss was merely Xiao Jiu’er’s puppet.

For the moment, we were at a loss with this stubborn fat man...

How could we get him to talk? I racked my brain.

I knew that as time slipped away, our chances dwindled. If he didn’t cooperate, we’d never find a way to save anyone, and for all we knew, Xiao Jiu’er might already be gone.

But with someone so impervious to threats or persuasion, I truly had no solution. His fear of Xiao Jiu’er far outweighed his fear of Wang Hou’s bone-dislocating technique.

If only I could use that fear like Xiao Jiu’er did... Wait!

Suddenly, it struck me—why not use his fear to our advantage? Instead of letting him feel threatened and terrified, perhaps we could dispel his inner dread, show him we could deal with Xiao Jiu’er.

So I changed my tone and said to the fat man, “Did Xiao Jiu’er plant the White Food Venom in you as well?”

He didn’t answer, but his expression confirmed it.

I chuckled and began working on his mind, telling him I’d seen this type of venom before, that my mentor had taught me how to treat it, that I could use medicinal herbs like gastrodia to suppress its toxicity, and help him find the ‘black flesh’ to eradicate the poison once and for all.

In short, if he cooperated with us, if he worked with the organization, his life could be guaranteed. Otherwise, whether or not he betrayed Xiao Jiu’er, he’d be doomed.

Finally, I concluded, “This White Food Venom can’t be detected by modern instruments. If you end up in prison, no one will give you medicine. This is your only chance: will you erupt in silent defiance, or perish in silent agony? It’s up to you!”

This time, my words struck directly at the fat man’s heart.

When he heard me mention ‘black flesh,’ his expression changed dramatically—he suddenly saw me as his savior.

“You really can save me? You know how to cure... the White Food Venom?” he asked hopefully.

I nodded, knowing he was already tempted.

As I tossed him a piece of clothing for modesty, I said offhandedly, “It depends on how much useful information you can give us. The more you tell, the more you help us.”

He hesitated briefly.

“The White Food Venom, when it erupts, is worse than death,” I reminded him.

His last line of defense crumbled.

“I’ll talk, I’ll tell everything...” he said, soothing his battered arm, then began confessing his background and how he met Xiao Jiu’er.

It was much as we suspected: Bai Wei was no good.

He told us he wasn’t actually Chinese; ‘Bai Wei’ was a fake name. His real name was Bai Zhu Ta’ang, a citizen of Myanmar, a Mong Dong Nata, once an officer in the Burmese government army. Later, during anti-drug operations in the Golden Triangle, he somehow got involved with drug traffickers.

Eventually, Bai Wei became their protector, leveraging his connections and troops to dominate the Golden Triangle, stretching into Southeast Asia, and became a minor warlord, running several drug routes.

Hearing this, Wang Hou and I were both stunned.

I thought, what kind of person is this? Fighting drugs until he ended up on the other side. What a bizarre country and army. No wonder he treated us as police from the start—his psychological scars ran deep.

Bai Wei continued: his drug dealings were exposed, and the Burmese military, under pressure from China, stripped him of rank and issued a warrant for his arrest. In a flash, this Burmese officer became a wanted man in both China and Myanmar, with nowhere to turn.

Desperate, he relied on his familiarity with the Golden Triangle and his network, taking his confidants and gold bars and fleeing overnight.

Later, chased by Chinese armed police and Myanmar's northern militias, he wandered the border mountains between China, Myanmar, and Laos, living a wretched, half-human, half-ghost existence for over a year. Several times he considered suicide, but failed each time; instead, he was left with lasting after-effects.

What after-effects? He claimed that since then, whenever someone stared at him unnaturally, he felt sure they were plainclothes police; whenever someone pointed at him, he thought it was an assassin’s sniper. He was nearly driven mad, never daring to leave his bodyguards or confidants, living in paranoia.

But just when Bai Wei was at his wit’s end, he suddenly met his benefactor, Xiao Jiu’er, in the mountains of Laos.

From then on, his dwindling life took a sudden turn for the better.