Send You to Hell

Zhao Ke had something on his mind and didn't notice who was behind him. When someone suddenly patted his shoulder, he reacted without turning around, throwing an over-the-shoulder throw.

"Ah!!"

A scream rang out. A white skirt flew past Zhao Ke, as if time had frozen. All eyes around stared at the woman soaring through the air.

Her suspended white dress, her scattered black hair, a touch of casual freedom in the disarray, like a fairy.

"Bang... clang..."

With a loud crash, everyone instinctively closed their eyes. When they looked again, the woman lay sprawled on the ground, grimacing in pain. Her hair was disheveled, and she reached out, grasping at the air a few times before curling into a ball. She hadn't uttered a single word the entire time, clearly having been thrown quite hard.

"You!"

Zhao Ke froze when he finally saw the woman clearly. He was surprised and quickly stepped forward to help her up. Fortunately, his reaction had been purely instinctive, and he hadn't used his full strength.

Otherwise, with his current strength, the woman on the ground would be either crippled or dead. Even so, this throw was significant.

Zhao Ke helped the woman up. She hadn't fully regained consciousness, but her lustrous black hair, paired with a face as white as mutton-fat jade and exquisite features, made many onlookers' hearts ache.

Such a goddess, treated so violently. Some people couldn't hold back and started scolding Zhao Ke.

"Are you sick? Hitting a woman? Yes, I'm talking to you. Where are you putting your hands? Let go." A middle-aged man, nearly forty, wearing shorts and a tank top, stepped forward.

Although he was accusing Zhao Ke, his eyes were fixed on the woman's chest in Zhao Ke's arms. His lewd gaze couldn't help but recall the glimpse of pink lace he'd seen, making his dantian burn.

Seeing the woman in Zhao Ke's arms seemed to have fainted, Fan Jian's eyes lit up. A lewd expression flickered in his eyes, as if he saw an opportunity. He stepped forward and said:

"Young people these days, where's your morality? Really... Are you hurt, miss? Are you okay? Don't stay on the ground, get up."

As Fan Jian reached out to pull her, Zhao Ke frowned. He pulled the woman closer into his embrace, twisted his body, and blocked Fan Jian's hand with his own. He glanced coldly at the middle-aged man and said sternly, "Get lost!"

Zhao Ke knew exactly how much force he had used. The woman in his arms was merely dazed and would recover after resting. She didn't need anyone's help.

"You!"

Fan Jian's expression changed. Zhao Ke's sharp gaze made him shiver. He took a step back into the crowd and shouted, "Being a pervert and still so arrogant, utterly shameless! Everyone, come look, he's a pervert!" Some people who didn't know the truth actually believed him. More and more people gathered, and the condemnation grew louder. All sorts of vulgar insults were hurled, and some people couldn't contain themselves and wanted to pull Zhao Ke away.

The surroundings immediately descended into chaos. Many people, men and women, gathered around, jeering and mocking, blaming Zhao Ke for holding the woman, calling him a pervert.

Some even took out their phones, ready to record videos. The chaotic noise and accusations made Zhao Ke increasingly impatient.

Fan Jian, in particular, stood aside, afraid to step forward, hiding in the crowd and continuously cursing, inciting the mob.

"Yes, that's him, a pervert in public, and he's still holding her and won't let go. People like him should be beaten to death."

Zhao Ke turned and stared at the middle-aged man for a long time. His sinister gaze made the man feel a chill run down his spine. For some reason, he felt uneasy.

"It hurts!"

At this moment, the woman in Zhao Ke's arms gradually woke up. She rubbed her head and looked around, suddenly startled. Her professional instinct kicked in, and she immediately chose to shield Zhao Ke with her hands.

"What are you doing?"

The woman's reaction surprised everyone. She continued, "Haven't you ever seen a couple arguing? What are you looking at? Disperse!"

"Uh..."

Hearing the words "couple," the few people who had wanted to help suddenly looked awkward. They had intended to help out of goodwill, but now they felt like they were in the wrong.

"Tch, showing affection in the street, you must be tired of living."

Seeing that he couldn't witness any drama, Fan Jian cursed and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

"Let's go!"

Seeing the crowd disperse, the woman took Zhao Ke's hand and walked away. They stopped after walking a considerable distance from the restaurant. She rubbed her head and said, "You hit too hard."

Zhao Ke glanced at the injury on her head. Seeing that it wasn't serious, his face darkened, and he turned to leave.

"Hey, hey, hey, you threw me so hard, and I still helped you out of that mess. Aren't you even going to apologize?"

"Don't ever pat me on the shoulder from behind again."

Zhao Ke paused, his steps halting, and said without turning his head. He hated people appearing behind him, and even more, he hated people patting his shoulder.

"Then don't leave. How's your illness? Remember I told you last time, sleeping in a coffin is a good method, right?"

The woman quickly caught up, seemingly unfazed by Zhao Ke's actions. Instead, she seemed more concerned about his condition.

This woman's profession was a psychiatrist. Her name was Wang Na, a well-known mental health expert in the area. The reason Zhao Ke slept in a coffin was her suggestion.

However, he had only visited her a few times. After his condition stabilized, he stopped going.

He hadn't expected to run into her here today and cause such a misunderstanding.

"So many people were accusing you just now, and you didn't have an episode. It seems your condition has indeed recovered. How about this, let's set a time for you to come to my clinic for a confirmation."

"No!"

Zhao Ke refused directly and decisively. It wasn't because of the high treatment fees, but because he couldn't stand being observed like a lab rat.

"It's okay if you don't want to come. Just leave me your address, and I'll come find you when I have time."

Despite Zhao Ke's cold refusal, Wang Na didn't seem to give up. She pestered Zhao Ke for his address.

Zhao Ke was at his wit's end with her persistence. He finally gave her the address of his restaurant before bidding farewell to Wang Na and leaving.

"Heavenly King covers the earth, Jade Emperor..."

Humming a little tune, Fan Jian emerged from the market entrance. Before leaving, he couldn't resist snagging two cucumbers from a vegetable stall, eating them with relish.

Thinking back to the noodle shop just now, how everyone had responded to his call, Fan Jian felt his blood boil. He became quite full of himself, planning to write about the incident and post it on his Weibo.

But then, he thought of those fair, tender, long legs and that hint of pink lace. A tickle started in Fan Jian's heart, and he silently cursed, "Tch, slut. A perfectly good cabbage, and she has to go and get gobbled up by a pig."

As Fan Jian walked, he suddenly spotted corn growing in a nearby field. His eyes lit up. Glancing around and seeing no one, he tiptoed into the field and casually picked two ears of corn. When he turned back, a person was standing right behind him.

"You!"

Fan Jian's eyes widened, a sense of foreboding washing over him. Just as he was about to shout for help, the newcomer suddenly grabbed his throat. Their fingers clamped down on Fan Jian's throat like iron pincers, constricting his chest and making it impossible for him to breathe.

"For stirring up trouble with your tongue, you deserve to go to Tongue-Pulling Hell!"

As the voice faded, the hand gripping Fan Jian's throat moved rapidly upward, prying open his mouth. In the other hand, a dark dagger had appeared at some point.

"Chop!"

After a rustling sound in the cornfield, silence quickly descended. Before long, a motorcycle was seen speeding away down the path.

In the lush cornfield, nothing remained except for a pool of blood and a few broken pieces of corn.