Send You to Hell

Zhao Ke had something on his mind and did not notice who was behind him. When someone suddenly slapped him on the shoulder, he did not even turn around before throwing them over his shoulder.

"Ah!!"

With a scream, a figure in a white dress flew past Zhao Ke. It was as though time had frozen, every pair of eyes around them staring at the woman soaring through the air.

Her white skirt billowed, her loose black hair fluttered wildly. Amid the disarray was a touch of carefree grace, making her seem like a fairy.

"Bang... crash..."

With a loud impact, everyone instinctively shut their eyes. When they looked again, the woman was sprawled on the ground, grimacing in agony. Her hair was disheveled as she reached into the air a few times before curling into a ball. From beginning to end, she could not say a single word. She had clearly been thrown hard.

"You!"

Once Zhao Ke saw who the woman was, he froze in surprise and hurried forward to help her up. Fortunately, he had acted on instinct and had not used his full strength.

Otherwise, with his current strength, the person on the ground would either have been crippled or dead. Even so, that throw had been rough enough.

As Zhao Ke helped the woman up, she was clearly still dazed. Yet her glossy black hair, creamy white face, and exquisite features made quite a few people present feel sorry for her.

Such a lovely goddess had actually been treated so violently. Some people could no longer hold back and began berating Zhao Ke.

"Are you sick in the head? You even hit women! Yeah, I'm talking to you! Where are you putting your hands? Let go of her!" The speaker was a middle-aged man nearing forty, dressed in baggy shorts and a tank top as he stepped forward.

Though he was accusing Zhao Ke, his eyes were fixed on the woman's chest in Zhao Ke's arms. His lecherous little gaze recalled the glimpse of pink lace from earlier, and heat rose in his lower abdomen.

When he saw that the woman in Zhao Ke's arms seemed to have fainted, Fan Jian's eyes lit up. Something like an opportunity appeared in his lecherous gaze as he stepped forward and said:

"Young people these days have no morals at all. Honestly... Miss, did that hurt? Are you okay? Don't sit on the ground. Hurry and get up."

Fan Jian reached out to pull her up. Zhao Ke frowned, drew the woman closer into his arms, and turned to block Fan Jian's hand with his body. He gave the middle-aged man a cold look. "Get lost!"

Zhao Ke knew better than anyone how much strength he had used. The woman in his arms was merely dizzy and would recover after resting for a while. She did not need anyone's help.

"You!"

Fan Jian's expression changed. Zhao Ke's sharp gaze made his scalp prickle, so he quickly retreated into the crowd and shouted, "You're molesting someone and still acting so arrogant! You have no shame! Everyone, come look! Someone's molesting a woman!" Some people who did not know what was going on actually believed him. More and more people gathered, their condemnation growing louder. Every kind of filthy insult was hurled about, and some people could no longer hold back, wanting to pull Zhao Ke away.

The area immediately descended into chaos. Men and women surrounded them, sneering and jeering, accusing Zhao Ke of molesting her just because he was holding her in his arms.

Some even took out their phones to record videos. The noisy accusations made Zhao Ke increasingly impatient.

Fan Jian in particular stood to the side, not daring to come forward. Instead, he hid in the crowd, constantly cursing and inciting everyone.

"That's right, it's him! Molesting someone in public, and he still won't let go of her! Someone like him should be beaten to death!"

Zhao Ke turned and stared at the middle-aged man for a long while. His sinister gaze made the man's skin crawl. For some reason, unease crept into his heart.

"It hurts!"

At that moment, the woman in Zhao Ke's arms gradually woke up. Rubbing her head, she looked around and was immediately startled. Her professional instincts made her instinctively put an arm around Zhao Ke protectively.

"What are you people doing?"

The woman's reaction caught everyone by surprise. She continued, "Have you never seen a boyfriend and girlfriend argue? What are you looking at? Move along!"

"Uh..."

Upon hearing that they were boyfriend and girlfriend, the few people who had wanted to help looked embarrassed. They had meant well, only to end up making themselves look foolish.

"Pah! Flaunting your affection on the street. You must be tired of living."

Seeing that he would not get to watch a good show, Fan Jian cursed under his breath and quickly slipped away into the crowd.

"Come on!"

Once the crowd dispersed, the woman grabbed Zhao Ke's hand and led him away. They did not stop until they had walked some distance from the restaurant. Rubbing her head, she said, "You were way too rough."

After checking that the injury on her head was not serious, Zhao Ke's face darkened and he turned to leave.

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

"Don't sneak up behind me and pat me on the shoulder again."

Zhao Ke paused without looking back. He hated people appearing behind him, and he hated it even more when they patted his shoulder.

"Then don't leave yet. How is your condition? The method I told you about last time, sleeping in a coffin, worked pretty well, didn't it?"

The woman hurried after him. She did not seem angry at all that Zhao Ke had thrown her. Instead, she was more concerned about his condition.

This woman was a psychiatrist named Wang Na, a somewhat well-known mental health expert in the area. The reason Zhao Ke slept in a coffin was her idea.

But all things considered, he had only visited her a few times. After his condition stabilized, he stopped going.

He had not expected to run into her here today, much less cause such a huge misunderstanding.

"So many people were accusing you just now, but you didn't have an episode. It seems your condition really has recovered. How about this? Let's set a time for you to come to my clinic so I can confirm it."

"No."

Zhao Ke refused flatly. It was not because of the high treatment fees, but because he could not stand being treated like a lab rat and examined over and over again.

"If you won't come, that's fine. Give me your address, and I'll come find you sometime."

Though Zhao Ke had coldly refused her, Wang Na did not seem ready to give up. She kept pestering him for his address.

Zhao Ke was worn down by her persistence and finally gave her the address of his restaurant before bidding Wang Na farewell and leaving.

"The heavenly king covers the earth tiger, the Jade Emperor..."

Fan Jian hummed a tune as he walked out of the market entrance. Before leaving, he had not forgotten to swipe two cucumbers from a vegetable stall, munching on them with relish.

Thinking about how everyone in the noodle shop had responded to his call earlier, Fan Jian could not help feeling his blood boil. He felt so inflated with self-importance that he planned to write about it and post it on his Weibo when he got home.

But then he thought of those long, pale, tender legs and that hint of pink lace, and his heart began itching again. He cursed under his breath, "Pah, slut. Such a good cabbage, and she just had to let a pig root around in it."

As Fan Jian walked along, he suddenly spotted corn growing in a field nearby. His eyes lit up. After looking around and seeing no one, he crept inside and casually snapped off two ears of corn. When he turned around, someone was standing behind him.

"You!"

Fan Jian's eyes widened as a sense of foreboding surged through him. He was about to call for help when the newcomer suddenly seized his throat. Five fingers clamped around his windpipe like iron pincers, leaving Fan Jian unable to breathe.

"You sowed discord with your tongue. You deserve Tongue-Pulling Hell!"

As the voice fell, the hand gripping Fan Jian's throat swiftly moved upward and pried open his mouth. At some point, a pitch-black dagger had appeared in the other hand.

"Slash!"

After a rustling sound came from the cornfield, it quickly fell silent. Not long after, a motorcycle sped away down the small path.

In the lush cornfield, nothing remained but a pool of blood and a few broken-off ears of corn.