With a sharp crack, one of the bones in Meng Zhe's back snapped beneath the stomp.
He let out a heartrending scream of pain, tears and snot streaming down his contorted face.
Ji Yaoguang watched the scene, her face filled with astonishment.
Even she had not expected Lin Fei to act so decisively and ruthlessly. Although she felt she had thoroughly vented her anger, unease still stirred within her.
After all, Meng Zhe was Song Hao's man. Treating him this way was tantamount to slapping Song Hao in the face. Now that Song Hao practically held the power of life and death over the Ji Family, where would offending him leave them?
Before Ji Yaoguang could offer any words of persuasion, Lin Fei said, "Are you picking it up or not?"
Meng Zhe had been thoroughly beaten into submission. Weeping bitterly, he wailed, "Yes, I'll pick it up! Stop hitting me! You'll kill me if you keep this up!"
Only then did Lin Fei withdraw indifferently, not even bothering to give Meng Zhe another glance.
In his eyes, Meng Zhe was nothing more than an ant. How to deal with him, or even whether to kill him, was merely a trivial matter to be decided on a whim.
Meng Zhe picked up the invitation, struggled to his feet, and handed it to Ji Yaoguang with trembling hands.
Inside, he was falling apart, desperately wanting to curse at the top of his lungs to vent his anger and resentment.
What kind of fucking bodyguard is this? Is there something wrong with his brain? Doesn't he know even the Ji Family doesn't dare offend me? What gives him the nerve to lay a hand on me?
Are you a pig? Aren't you afraid I'll get revenge and destroy you afterward?!
Of course, he only dared think such things. He truly lacked the courage to provoke Lin Fei again.
To Meng Zhe, Lin Fei was nothing but a reckless hothead who feared neither heaven nor earth.
After accepting the invitation, Ji Yaoguang looked at Meng Zhe's miserable state as though she wanted to say something, but ultimately she merely sighed and said nothing more.
They had already offended him. What was the point of pretending to care or offering words of comfort now? It would only invite a snub.
Having completed the task Song Hao had given him, Meng Zhe did not dare linger for even a moment. Only one thought filled his mind: Run, hurry up and run! Get away from Lin Fei, that reckless WarGreymon! The farther, the better!
He lowered his head, a vicious, venomous resentment flashing through his eyes, and limped pathetically back to the car.
The driver in the front seat was badly frightened. He could not understand how Meng Zhe had ended up like this merely delivering an invitation.
Lin Fei, just you fucking wait!
I want you dead! Meng Zhe roared inwardly in fury, his expression hideously twisted. He clenched his teeth so hard that traces of blood seeped between them.
Seeing this in the rearview mirror, the driver thought Meng Zhe's expression was even more frightening than a psychopathic murderer in a horror movie. He dared not utter a single word.
In stark contrast to Meng Zhe's bitter, hate-filled demeanor, Lin Fei remained as calm as a light breeze passing over drifting clouds. As though nothing had happened, he glanced at the time and location on the invitation.
Song Hao must have obtained quite a few invitations from Qing Lixue, but he had sent only one. His meaning was clear-he wanted Ji Yaoguang alone to attend, without anyone accompanying her.
Ji Yaoguang gave Lin Fei a complicated look. She wanted to tell him that his treatment of Meng Zhe might bring disaster upon the Ji Family, yet for the moment she did not know how to begin.
Indeed, Lin Fei had done the Ji Family so many great favors, even saving her life and her grandfather's, yet he had asked for nothing in return.
He owed the Ji Family nothing. Instead, the Ji Family owed him far too much.
What right or standing did she have to criticize him?
In the end, Ji Yaoguang merely sighed with a bitter smile and said nothing.
The night was black as ink.
Nightmare stood atop a distant high-rise, observing the Ji Family's villa through high-powered night-vision binoculars.
The two locks of hair at his temples and his flowing hooded cloak fluttered in the night wind.
"What realm is that woman in, exactly, to stir up a whole courtyard of fallen leaves with the wind from her punches?" Nightmare murmured, still pondering this most crucial question.
His preliminary observations alone were not enough to reach a definite conclusion.
As an exceptionally cautious and patient assassin, Nightmare was willing to spend time getting to the bottom of it. If this woman was in the Grandmaster Realm, acting rashly would be tantamount to courting death.
The possibility was exceedingly small, but what if it was true?
Nightmare never entrusted his life to luck. That was also the main reason he had survived to this day.
He lowered the binoculars and furrowed his delicate, womanlike brows, feeling that observing her this way would yield no conclusion.
Soon, Nightmare smiled. "Why not drive a tiger to devour the wolf and have someone test her?"
At that thought, Nightmare took out his phone and called Black Rose. "Mentor, I need a small favor."
Black Rose sneered and demanded, "Nightmare, you haven't made a single move since returning, and you still have the nerve to ask me for help?"
Nightmare sighed softly and said playfully, "Oh, mentor, you're simply too arrogant. You sent two groups of assassins to their deaths without even investigating how well protected the target was. Having confidence in your own people is a good thing, but underestimating others is a grave taboo."
Black Rose's breath caught. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Nightmare, are you mocking me?"
Nightmare's face filled with surprise. "How would I dare? You're my dear mentor. I can hardly show you enough respect."
Black Rose could no longer stand his flippant remarks. She sneered, "Get to the point. What do you want me to help you with?"
Nightmare sighed helplessly. "Mentor, you really have no appreciation for charm."
"Then I'll be direct. I hear you're quite close to Bai Zhan, the Bai family's martial arts fanatic?"
Black Rose's heart jolted. She demanded coldly, "Nightmare, what nonsense are you talking about?!"
Nightmare smiled unconcernedly and teased, "Oh dear, how careless of me to expose my mentor's secret affair with Bai Zhan. How frightening. You wouldn't kill me to silence me, would you, mentor?"
Black Rose took a deep breath, her eyes filled with profound wariness of Nightmare.
She had thought she had kept this extramarital affair well hidden. She had never expected Nightmare to have seen through it so completely.
Nightmare gazed down at the city's glittering nightscape, composed as though everything lay within his grasp. "Tell me, if your husband Datura learned of this, as the highest authority in the Dark Night Organization, how would he deal with the two of you?"
"Nightmare," Black Rose said, her voice brimming with anger, "are you threatening me?"
"How could I?" Nightmare's face filled with surprise. "I'm reminding my dear mentor that certain things ought to be handled more carefully. I'm worried you'll both be sentenced to death by a thousand cuts, forced to watch yourselves being sliced to pieces."
Black Rose trembled all over with rage. In the end, she gritted her teeth and said, "What do you want me to help you with?"
Nightmare narrowed his eyes slightly and said softly, "I want Bai Zhan to make a move and test that woman named Wu Moling for me."
"He's a martial arts fanatic anyway. That's no secret in Rongcheng. An open, aboveboard duel under the pretext of exchanging pointers shouldn't be a problem. Even if your darling lover is no match for her, he certainly won't lose his life."
As though she had heard the greatest joke in the world, Black Rose scoffed, "Bai Zhan is at the Late Body Tempering Stage. Below the Grandmaster Realm, he rarely meets his match. He'd lose?"
Nightmare shook his head and hung up.
"Stupid woman. Sooner or later, your arrogance will be the death of you," he muttered. Then an inexplicable thought popped into his mind.
What sort of person could have trained a mysterious expert like Wu Moling?
"Could she be the prized disciple some old Grandmaster monster spent fifteen or twenty years training?"
Nightmare speculated privately, feeling that the matter was far from simple.
Yet never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that someone had merely given Wu Moling a casual pointer.