Provoked by Zhengyang's taunt, Lin Kuang lost interest in Xiao Dasheng, charging straight for him. His steps carried a coiled, menacing energy—exactly what Zhengyang wanted. Lin Kuang was wild, but he had real skill. Xiao Dasheng, though capable, was no match.
Xiao lunged forward, blocking Zhengyang's path. "Boss is in trouble—we've gotta show some guts, even if it's just for show. Lin Kuang, take me down first!"
Xiao didn't know why Zhengyang was so calm, but he figured the Leis' reach blanketed Beijing. By now, they'd likely heard of the brawl and were watching, even if not intervening. For Xiao, this was a chance to tighten ties with Zhengyang. Whatever his true motives, stepping up like this was no small feat. In political games, a single misstep could unleash a tsunami, and the Jincheng Xiao family couldn't weather such a storm. Yet Xiao stood firm—a courage worth commending.
Lin Kuang's bull-like eyes glared, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. If someone wanted to die, he'd oblige. Killing Zhengyang was off-limits, but a nobody like Xiao? No one would care.
At that moment, a hand lightly tapped Xiao's shoulder. Zhengyang stood, his voice cool. "He's here for me. How can I disappoint him? Dasheng, step aside and watch."
Xiao turned, stunned. He knew Zhengyang's limits—sparring buddies let him win, but in a real fight, he'd be crushed. Sensing his worry, Zhengyang grinned. "Relax. Dealing with a punk like Lin Kuang won't take long."
Xiao relented, stepping back but staying vigilant.
Lin Kuang flashed a thumbs-up. "Lei Zhengyang, I don't like you, but you've got some balls this time. Don't worry—I won't kill you. Just breaking both your hands. I keep my word."
Zhengyang's voice was soft but biting. "Then I'll break your hands. No killing."
"Hahaha!" Lin Kuang roared, as if he'd heard the world's best joke. "Good, real good. Nobody beats you at talking tough. Let's see if your mouth's still running later."
His laughter stopped, his face hardening with icy intent. Inner energy surged, and Zhengyang's eyes narrowed. Lin Kuang was an inner strength cultivator—no wonder he rampaged through Beijing unchecked. But he was out of luck. Today's Zhengyang was a different beast.
Lin Kuang was small fry, perfect for Zhengyang's display of power. He'd show the Lins—and all of Beijing—that he might be a playboy, but he was no pushover. "What're you waiting for?" he taunted, not even bothering to take a defensive stance, as if Lin Kuang was beneath him.
With a bellow—"Hah!"—Lin Kuang's burly frame seemed to swell, his shirt ripping from the force of his inner energy. Xiao jumped, shouting, "Inner strength! It's real inner strength!" In this era, those wielding such power were elite masters.
Xiao practiced a strength technique but hadn't formed his own energy after years. Li Yuanfeng, though no martial artist, recognized it instantly—a rare, formidable force few could attain.
"Monkey, be ready to jump in," Li whispered. "If Zhengyang gets hurt, we're screwed with the Leis." Showing up meant sharing glory or ruin. If Zhengyang fell, their chance at Lei favor was gone.
Xiao nodded, ready to take a hit to protect him.
Zhengyang stood still, but Lin Kuang's energy sparked a reaction. The golden dragon power within him erupted, his lean frame radiating overwhelming might, blanketing the room.
Lin Kuang's fist, charged with inner strength, rocketed forward.
Zhengyang moved—not back, but forward. His hand shot out, enveloping Lin Kuang's bull-like punch. With a slight twist, Lin Kuang's face contorted. Not only had Zhengyang blocked his strike instantly, but he'd crushed it. The sickening crunch of breaking bones echoed.
Lin Kuang's fist was shattered.
Even without his mysterious dragon power, Zhengyang's year of life-and-death trials had forged him into a force beyond Lin Kuang. But to cow the crowd, he needed a one-shot kill.
Lin Kuang tried to pull back, but Zhengyang gave no quarter. Once he struck, there was no retreat.
Slap! Slap! Two sharp slaps cracked across Lin Kuang's face. His right hand ruined, Lin Kuang swung a desperate left hook, only to meet Zhengyang's fist. Unlike Lin Kuang's frenzied blow, Zhengyang's was silent, like a ripple on still water, subtle yet devastating.
Crack! Crack! Lin Kuang let out a stifled groan, flying backward like an arrow, smashing into the wall. The impact tore a gaping hole in the panel.
Xiao's hands trembled. Li wanted to cheer but held back. Both were floored, hearts racing. In one exchange, Lin Kuang's hands were wrecked. Struggling from the wreckage, his face was a mask of horror.
Even he couldn't fathom this "wastrel's" terrifying power.
"Young Master Lin!" His bodyguards rushed to shield him.
"You dare—" Xiao and Li shouted in unison, their own men surging in. The room brimmed with bodies, a brawl seconds from erupting.
Zhengyang eyed the sweating Lin Kuang. "You're no match for me. I hear the Lins have a guy named Ning Buluan—now he sounds interesting. If I get the chance, I'd like a go. For today, we're done. The Lins can come find me anytime."
Ignoring the wary bodyguards, he strolled through the crowd. Lin Kuang didn't stop him, nor did his men. Even the police at the door, stunned, showed no hint of disrespect.
Xiao and Li hurried after him, calling, "Let's move!"
As the room cleared, Lin Kuang, barely holding himself up, coughed up blood, his face ashen. Collapsing, he silenced his guards' cries. "Get me home—now!"
In a hidden underground chamber at Yaochi, Leng Youran stared at a screen, replaying the empty scene. She was still reeling. Across from her sat a middle-aged man.
"Youran, what do you make of Lei Zhengyang?" he asked.
Jolted, she stammered, "Godfather, I… don't know."
He turned, frowning. "I've trained you for ten years. Your talent is strong, but you started late. Your achievements are your own, but I'm disappointed this time."
"For a killer, an unsteady heart is the greatest flaw," he continued. "I sent you into the world to hone yourself, to take the next step. If you face Shadow as you are, you'll lose—and I won't save you. Without your business acumen, funneling funds to Tianmie, the elders would've dropped you long ago. Do better."
Leng didn't know why Zhengyang's appearance had shaken her—a first for her iron control.
Before she could explain, the man stood. "Monitor Lei Zhengyang closely. Our Beijing strategy may need adjustments."
He left without another word, vanishing silently.