Chen Yang seldom lost his temper.

You want revenge? Fine. Bring it on. No matter what tricks you have, I'll take them.

But you should never, ever have destroyed Zhao Dejiang's home and kidnapped this Martial Guard, a man who once shed blood and tears for every inch of the nation.

To do such a thing… Is he still a Martial Guard? This is the unforgivable work of bandits and hooligans.

The minivan sped out of the residential complex, racing toward the Yuetan Grand Hotel.

When it came down to it, this matter was a direct result of Chen Yang's actions. If anything happened to Zhao Dejiang, Chen Yang would never find peace again for the rest of his life.

「A quarter of an hour later.」

The minivan stopped at the entrance of the Yuetan Grand Hotel.

「In the banquet hall on the third floor.」

The hall, large enough for a hundred people, was packed to the brim. The crowd was a raucous mix of clinking glasses and billowing clouds of smoke, creating an intense and lively atmosphere. They were all hot-blooded men in the prime of their twenties, and every one of them belonged to Wu Chen.

As the saying goes, like master, like men. That adage couldn't be more fitting.

Wu Chen circulated among the crowd, the center of attention, and it was clear he savored the feeling.

After making his rounds, a slightly tipsy Wu Chen walked back to Zhao Dejiang and spoke condescendingly, "Old man, didn't you look down on me? Didn't you think that little piece of trash was stronger than I am? Just you wait. I'll show you how he'll kneel before me like a dog and beg for mercy!

"You have no idea how capable I, Wu Chen, am. You were courting death to look down on me!"

Zhao Dejiang didn't get angry. Instead, he calmly lit a cigarette and said lightly, "I may not know how capable you are, but likewise, you can't even begin to imagine how capable Chen Yang is.

"The one courting death isn't me. It's you."

Exhaling a plume of smoke, Zhao Dejiang grew even calmer, a faint smile touching his lips.

"Old fool, have you gone senile? Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Our boss is known as the King of Martial Kings! In the entire Martial Department, among our peers, who can possibly compare to him besides that one-of-a-kind Governor?"

Others in the crowd started to chime in.

Zhao Dejiang looked at these gallant-looking men. They were likely all capable fighters on the battlefield, but it was a pity they were following the wrong person. Not only was it ruining their futures, but they had also lost their sense of reason.

Wu Chen pulled over a chair, planted a foot on it, and held up a liquor bottle. His gaze was cold and piercing. "I, Wu Chen, have always been admired by thousands, yet that bastard let one of his subordinates beat me and utterly humiliate me.

"If I don't get my revenge a thousand times over today, I don't deserve the surname Wu!"

"YEAH!"

"As long as he dares to show up, we'll beat him to death!"

Wu Chen's words were met with another roar of support and agreement.

「In a corner of the hall.」

A middle-aged man in a cyan robe sat alone, his food untouched. He was only drinking wine. He stood out from the crowd like a crane among chickens, yet no one dared to disturb him.

Wu Yanting, Wu Chen's father.

He was not a member of the Martial Department but the sole disciple of Qingyao Daoist, the renowned master of Qiyun Road. Rumor had it that Qingyao Daoist was the number one expert on all of Qiyun Road, his cultivation having already reached a transcendent, supreme level. As Qingyao Daoist's disciple, Wu Yanting was naturally extraordinary.

This was the true source of Wu Chen's confidence. Wu Yanting was also the reason Zhao Dejiang had initially agreed to let Zhao Xiaoya date Wu Chen. But no one could have expected things to end up like this.

Sighing heavily, Zhao Dejiang said gravely, "For your father's sake, I will warn you one last time. Chen Yang is not—"

BANG!

Wu Chen kicked Zhao Dejiang to the ground. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he declared arrogantly. "When did my father ever need you to do him any favors? You're courting death."

「Outside the hall.」

Yang Hu stepped forward and kicked the doors open.

BANG! The iron-clad doors slammed heavily against the adjacent walls with a thunderous crash. The bustling hall suddenly fell silent.

One by one, the crowd turned their heads. Their gazes shifted from confusion to hostile ferocity. Clearly, these two unwelcome arrivals were the very people Wu Chen had been waiting for.

"Kicking the door down, how impressive!"

"Hurry up and get on your knees! Beg our boss for mercy!"

They were all young and hot-headed, and with alcohol fueling them, each one's boasts were wilder than the last.

He glanced at the time. It was more than a minute past the twenty he had given—no, it had already been two minutes.

He had deliberately made things difficult; Chen Yang arriving this quickly had already exceeded his expectations.

"You're two minutes late," Wu Chen grinned, baring his teeth. He raised his right hand and shouted, "Bring me a knife!"

A young man beside him immediately stood up, drew a paratrooper knife, and swaggered toward Wu Chen, brandishing it playfully.

Chen Yang lifted his gaze slightly. With a simple flick of his finger, the man who had been so cheerfully showing off his knife was sent flying several meters through the air.

BOOM! He crashed heavily onto a table, sending dishes and bowls flying and splattering food and wine over everyone nearby.

Wu Chen: "..."

Everyone: "..."

Chen Yang stepped into the hall, his expression frosty. "What did I tell you before? If you dare to harm a single hair on Zhao Dejiang's head, I'll make sure you have no grave to call your own."

HISS!

Between his words and the power of that finger flick, the vast hall instantly fell deathly still.

"And yet, you did more than just lay a hand on him."

Walking over to Zhao Dejiang, Chen Yang helped him up. "Are you all right?"

"It's nothing serious," Zhao Dejiang said with a dismissive wave.

Chen Yang nodded. "Give me two minutes."

HAHA! This exchange was a huge joke to Wu Chen's ears. He scoffed, "Two minutes? What are you going to do, take all of us down in two minutes?"

Handing Zhao Dejiang to Yang Hu, Chen Yang shot Wu Chen a dismissive glance before his eyes settled on Wu Yanting. He could tell in an instant who was the strongest person in the room.

Wu Yanting, who had been drinking alone, seemed to sense something. He slowly turned around, his face expressionless as he held his wine glass. He exuded an air of superiority, as if he stood above all living beings and saw them as nothing more than ants beneath his feet. "Kid, you first insulted my son, and now you show up and immediately start a fight. You're far too arrogant."

After cultivating under Qingyao Daoist for many years, he had a serene disposition that ordinary people couldn't hope to match. If this matter didn't concern his son's dignity, why would he have ever bothered with such trivialities?

Wu Yanting toyed with his wine glass, his voice brimming with confidence. "My son has set his rules. You have no choice but to obey them."

"And why should I follow his rules?" Chen Yang retorted. The moment the words left his mouth, he gave his sleeve a gentle flick.

Instantly, the indifferent expression on Wu Yanting's face—so unfathomable a second ago—twisted in shock, and he shot to his feet. His pupils contracted so rapidly it was visible to the naked eye.

"HAH!" With a thunderous roar, Wu Yanting lunged forward and thrust both fists out at once.

BOOM!

Wu Yanting was blasted off his feet and slammed into the wall behind him.

Then, without giving anyone else a second glance, Chen Yang took off his cloak and draped it over Zhao Dejiang. "Don't worry," he said. "He won't live."

"He… he's the Nine Gates Admiral… the Zhennan Prince?"

"This… this…"

In the space of a few breaths, everyone in the room seemed petrified, their faces blank with disbelief.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Wu Chen stumbled back several steps and collapsed onto the floor.

"..."

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