Chapter Seven: He Must Suffer a Fate Worse Than Death!

“My dear, you have a sister?” After Yang Ye hung up the phone, Long Xiaoqing asked curiously.

“Yes,” Yang Ye nodded. “My real sister. Ten years ago something happened to our family. My master took me to the mountains to train, and my sister stayed behind.”

He glanced up at the sky, then smiled and said, “Xiaoqing, let me take you to meet my sister now. Where she lives isn’t far from here.”

“Okay!” Long Xiaoqing replied cheerfully, clearly delighted.

Yang Ye hailed a cab, and after getting in, told the driver, “To the middle section of Riverside Road, Xianhai District.”

“Alright!” The driver answered with a smile and started the car.

…

A sharp sound rang out.

Yang Yu, who had just finished her phone call with Yang Ye, was struck hard across the face. Her phone fell to the ground.

A red handprint appeared on her cheek, quickly swelling up. She clutched her face, picked up her phone from the floor, and glared hatefully at the man who hit her.

He was a man in his forties, his face flushed with drink. This man was Yang Yu’s husband, He Feng.

Seeing Yang Yu’s sharp, angry gaze, He Feng was momentarily stunned. It was the first time she’d ever looked at him like that.

“You whore, how dare you look at me like that? You want to die?” After a brief pause, He Feng roared, and slapped Yang Yu again.

But Yang Yu only laughed coldly. “If you’ve got the guts, kill me! Go on, kill me!”

He Feng’s eyes widened at her words. The phrase “if you’ve got the guts” deeply stung his nerves. Though he appeared tall and burly, he was actually impotent, that part of him underdeveloped.

Words like eunuch, castrated, or coward always triggered him.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” He Feng, completely enraged, rained punches and kicks down on Yang Yu, stopping only after she lost consciousness.

Panting heavily, He Feng collapsed onto the sofa, loosened his collar, and stared coldly at Yang Yu lying on the floor.

…

After paying the fare, Yang Ye got out of the car. When he saw the rows of dilapidated old buildings before him, he couldn’t help but frown. This was clearly a poor neighborhood—why was his sister living here?

With deep misgivings, Yang Ye walked into a dark, narrow alley. As he went, he saw garbage piled along both sides of the road, and several stray dogs rummaging through the trash for food.

A few junkies, seeing someone approach, furtively slipped into the shadows.

Taking all this in, Yang Ye’s brow furrowed even tighter.

“My dear, does your sister really live in a place like this? It’s filthy!” Long Xiaoqing, who was fastidious about cleanliness, wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I wonder if we’ve come to the wrong place,” Yang Ye said, growing more and more uncertain the further they went. Ten years wasn’t long enough for his sister to squander a billion, no matter how extravagantly she lived.

Both he and his sister were born into wealth—he remembered that before his father passed, he had given each of them a bank card. Yang Ye’s had two billion, his sister’s one billion. Their father had personally told them so.

Yang Ye didn’t believe his father would have left his sister without money.

“Hey, kid, stop right there!”

Suddenly, four thugs stepped out from the shadows and blocked Yang Ye’s path, two in front, two behind. Each held a machete.

“Get lost,” Yang Ye said coldly, already in a foul mood.

“Just hand over anything valuable and we’ll leave, heh heh,” one of the thugs in front sneered.

A dangerous light flashed in Yang Ye’s eyes. He pushed off with both feet—

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four dull thuds sounded in quick succession. In less than three seconds, all four thugs lay motionless on the ground.

None of them were cultivators—there was no way they could withstand Yang Ye’s blows. He had killed them all outright.

Casting a glance at the four corpses, Yang Ye continued on his way.

A moment later—

“My dear, look, that must be Building 6!” Long Xiaoqing pointed.

Yang Ye nodded. “It is. Let’s head up.”

…

Thump, thump, thump—

Inside the apartment, He Feng, having caught his breath, was about to head back to the bedroom when someone knocked at the door.

“Who is it? Knocking at this hour!” He shouted impatiently, then walked over and peered through the peephole.

Seeing it was a youth of seventeen or eighteen, He Feng relaxed and opened the door.

As soon as the door opened and Yang Ye saw He Feng, he hesitated, thinking he had the wrong place. But just as he was about to say so, he caught sight of a woman lying on the floor. Even from the side, he immediately recognized her as his sister.

“Big sister!” Yang Ye called out.

Hearing his voice, Yang Yu, lying on the ground, murmured dreamily, “Xiao Ye…”

“Who are you?” He Feng scowled, glaring menacingly at Yang Ye.

“Move,” Yang Ye said coldly.

Seeing his sister covered in wounds, Yang Ye’s anger flared. He didn’t have to guess—the culprit was surely the man before him.

“Damn you, kid, how dare you threaten me!” He Feng roared, swinging his hand at Yang Ye’s face.

But before he could even touch Yang Ye, Yang Ye kicked him, sending him flying. The man’s bulky body crashed to the floor, knocking over a sofa.

Yang Ye had held back—he still didn’t know all the details.

After kicking He Feng aside, Yang Ye rushed inside and helped his sister up from the floor.

“Sis, why are you here? Did that man hit you?” Yang Ye asked, his eyes blazing with murderous intent as he glared at the groaning He Feng.

Yang Yu gritted her teeth and nodded.

“What happened?” Yang Ye frowned.

“It’s a long story, Xiao Ye. Take me away from here,” Yang Yu said.

Yang Ye nodded and sat her down on the sofa.

Then he turned and walked over to He Feng.

“Xiao Ye, don’t kill him,” Yang Yu said through clenched teeth.

At this point, He Feng realized Yang Ye was no ordinary person—anyone who could kick him flying was surely a cultivator.

He Feng was now full of regret. If he’d known Yang Yu’s brother was a cultivator, he never would have treated her so harshly.

Still, the woman had gone soft—she couldn’t bear to have him killed. Though they had never truly been husband and wife, nine years together had forged some feelings… or so He Feng told himself.

He forced a smile, just about to speak, when Yang Yu added through gritted teeth, “Killing him outright is too easy. I want him to suffer a fate worse than death!”

He Feng froze. Was this woman truly so vicious?

“Alright,” Yang Ye said coldly. He strode over to He Feng and stomped down on his waist.

With a sickening crack, He Feng’s spine snapped.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream before passing out.