Chen Muyao instinctively stepped back, screaming as she shielded her phone.
Li Hongjun's face, twisted with rage, was inches away, madness flickering in his eyes.
Just as his fingers were about to touch Chen Muyao-
Boom!
With a deep crash like a war drum, the heavy solid-wood door of the Guesthouse room was violently kicked open from outside!
The frame splintered, sending wood chips flying!
Amid the swirling dust, a tall, straight-backed figure stood silhouetted against the light, radiating the oppressive tension of an approaching storm.
It was Chen Lin.
His gaze swept past the shaken Chen Muyao and pinned Li Hongjun in place like two unsheathed swords.
Li Hongjun froze.
He turned and saw Chen Lin's ice-cold expression. An inexplicable chill gripped his heart, but he still blustered, roaring to hide his fear.
"You... what do you want? This is a family matter! An outsider like you has no right to interfere!"
"A family matter?"
A chilling smile curled Chen Lin's lips. He walked slowly into the room and pulled the damaged door shut behind him.
Click.
The crisp sound of the lock clicking into place sounded, at that moment, like Death's scythe settling against Li Hongjun's neck.
"She's my aunt. Doesn't that make her family business mine too?"
Before he finished speaking, Chen Lin's figure faded from where he stood, leaving only a blurred afterimage.
Li Hongjun saw a blur flash before his eyes.
The next second, a hand clamped down on the wrist he had reached toward Chen Muyao.
That was no hand.
It was a red-hot iron shackle!
"Aaargh!"
The agonizing pressure crushing his wrist bones shot straight through Li Hongjun's nervous system. He let out an inhuman scream, his face instantly turning a dark purplish red as beads of cold sweat poured down his temples.