Chapter Seventy-Eight: Strike Her

The alleyway was bustling, though the air was filled only with groans and whimpers.

Sun Wenlong lay sprawled on the ground, his bones as if they might fall apart, not a single place on his body free from pain.

“Brother Long, are you alright?” The alluring woman hurried over and asked anxiously.

Sun Wenlong cursed, “Do I look alright to you? All of you, get in there—whoever breaks his leg for me gets half a million!”

The gang of bikers was fearless, their eyes turning red at the mention of money. Some even pulled small knives from their pockets and shouted, “Kid, are you going to kneel down and beg for mercy, or do you want us to make you?”

Lin Yi eyed the gang and asked, “Which one of you is the boss?”

A bald, heavyset man stepped forward, his face all meaty jowls, looking rather menacing. “That would be me,” he said, his voice gruff.

“I’ll give you a chance—take your people and leave now.” Lin Yi’s gaze stayed on him.

The boss snorted in disdain. Perhaps this Lin Yi had some brute strength, but the world wasn’t ruled by lone heroes—he had so many men, any one of them could lay Lin Yi out with a single punch.

“Boys, get him!” the boss waved his hand.

Immediately, over a dozen bikers charged at Lin Yi. But the faster they rushed, the quicker they went flying. In less than a minute, the only ones left standing in the alley were the alluring woman and the biker boss—everyone else was groaning on the ground.

The biker boss was already weak in the knees with fear. He’d seen people who could fight, but never anyone who could fight like this; this time he’d really taken a tumble.

“B-big brother, I’m innocent—it was all Sun Wenlong who forced me!” he whimpered, utterly spineless.

Lin Yi ignored him, walking straight to Sun Wenlong’s side. “You said you wanted to break my leg?”

Sun Wenlong was terrified, but still spat curses, unwilling to yield. “You little bastard, do you know who I am? If you know what’s good for you, apologize now!”

Lin Yi smiled coolly and stepped on Sun Wenlong’s right kneecap.

There was a sickening crack as the kneecap shattered beneath his foot. The intense pain drained all color from Sun Wenlong’s face, sweat pouring down his forehead.

“Remember—don’t mess with me. Otherwise, your other leg is next.” With that, Lin Yi left the alley.

When he arrived at Yang Yujia’s home, he saw a bright red handprint on her cheek. Her eyes were rimmed with red, as if she’d just been crying.

“Your face?” Lin Yi asked.

Yang Yujia quickly covered her face with her hand and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Lin Yi looked at her and said, “Since I’m your teacher, it’s my duty to take care of certain matters.”

His students were his responsibility—no one else had the right to lay a hand on them.

Yang Yujia felt a warmth in her heart. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “It was Sun Wenlong. He’s my father. He brought a woman with him just now, and I said a few words to her, so she hit me.”

Lin Yi’s eyes grew cold—he immediately thought of the alluring woman who’d been with Sun Wenlong.

“Come, I’ll take you to find them,” Lin Yi said.

“No, Lin Yi, just let it go,” Yang Yujia replied wearily.

Her own father had brought another woman over and watched as she was slapped, making no effort to help—she was left utterly disappointed.

Lin Yi said, “Some things can’t be avoided. Let’s go. I saw Sun Wenlong downstairs just now.”

“My mom said you two fought at the hospital yesterday. He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?” Yang Yujia asked, surprised.

“He called some people to beat me up, but I sent them packing.”

Lin Yi finished speaking and took Yang Yujia’s hand, leading her outside. She didn’t pull away, letting him guide her.

Soon, they returned to the alleyway. The biker gang was still there, and when they saw Lin Yi coming, their legs turned to jelly—they thought he hadn’t had enough and was back to finish the job.

The biker boss tossed away his half-smoked cigarette and hurried to Lin Yi. “Big brother, you’ve beaten us up enough, haven’t you? Here’s ten thousand yuan as compensation, alright?”

He was truly frightened. Beating five people was impressive, but beating dozens was like being possessed by a martial god from ancient Yanxia.

“Relax, I’m not here for you,” Lin Yi said calmly.

Yang Yujia wasn’t afraid either—her teacher only grew more mysterious. These bikers looked like trouble, but in front of Lin Yi, they were all as meek as lambs.

“Oh, then, big brother, you’re here for...?” the boss asked carefully.

“I’m looking for the woman with Sun Wenlong,” Lin Yi replied.

“Big brother, you’re just a bit late—Sun Wenlong and that woman just left by car, probably heading to the hospital.”

“I see,” Lin Yi nodded. “Which way did they go?”

“They went that way,” the boss pointed.

“I’ll be taking one of your motorcycles.” Lin Yi didn’t wait for a reply, pulling Yang Yujia onto a bike.

The biker boss was left speechless—he hadn’t even said whether he’d lend it or not.

Lin Yi remembered Sun Wenlong’s car. Before long, a white BMW appeared in his line of sight.

The one driving wasn’t Sun Wenlong, but the alluring woman. She looked anxious. “Brother Long, don’t let anything happen to you.”

Sun Wenlong was sprawled on the back seat, his face twisted in pain from his injured right leg. “Bao Shasha, don’t jinx me! And that damned brat—I’ll make sure he dies.”

Bao Shasha said worriedly, “But Brother Long, all our people couldn’t handle him.”

“Hmph, that fat guy is useless. Numbers don’t matter if they’re all trash. Have you heard of the Blood Oath League?” Sun Wenlong asked.

“No,” Bao Shasha shook her head.

“After all this time with me, you still know nothing. The Blood Oath League is a killer organization—if you want someone dead, you need professionals,” Sun Wenlong said, a vicious glint in his eyes.

Bao Shasha was startled; she’d thought Sun Wenlong just wanted to break Lin Yi’s legs, not actually kill him.

“Brother Long, killing is against the law,” she said fearfully.

“I’m not doing it—someone else is. I’ve done this plenty of times,” Sun Wenlong replied dismissively.

Bao Shasha bit her lip and said in a soft voice, “Brother Long, maybe just breaking his limbs would be enough.”

“Hmph, Bao Shasha, are you scared? Don’t worry—we’re in this together. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll make your life a living hell.” Sun Wenlong sneered. As for Bao Shasha, he couldn’t care less.

Bao Shasha fell silent for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right, Brother Long, that brat deserves to die.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than her eyes widened.

“Br-Brother Long...” she stammered, one hand on the wheel, the other pointing outside.

“What is it?” Sun Wenlong asked impatiently, glancing up—only to be startled himself.

Lin Yi and Yang Yujia had somehow caught up, riding right beside their car.

“How did he get here?” Sun Wenlong’s brow furrowed tightly.

“Brother Long, do you think it’s because I hit that little tramp?” Bao Shasha said in a panic.

If that was the reason, there’d be no easy end to this.

“Maybe. Speed up! See if you can lose him. If not, stop at a corner and hope he crashes himself to death,” Sun Wenlong spat.

“I’ll try.” Bao Shasha floored the gas, pushing the car even faster.

Seeing the car suddenly accelerate, Lin Yi guessed they’d noticed him. But so what?

He channeled his inner energy into the motorcycle, keeping pace effortlessly.

Soon, at a deserted corner, the BMW braked sharply. Anticipating this, Lin Yi swerved ahead and waited for them.

“Brother Long, this guy is something else,” Bao Shasha said, frustrated.

“Damn it. Let’s get out. I want to see what tricks this brat has up his sleeve,” Sun Wenlong said. He had no choice—his leg hurt so much, he feared he’d end up in a wheelchair if he waited any longer.

Bao Shasha parked next to Lin Yi and helped Sun Wenlong out.

“What do you want now?” Sun Wenlong asked, pale-faced.

Lin Yi glanced at him. “I’m not here for you this time.”

Bao Shasha’s heart skipped a beat. She’d guessed Lin Yi had come for her with Yang Yujia.

“Brother Long...” She clung to Sun Wenlong’s arm in terror.

Sun Wenlong’s expression darkened, but he didn’t plead for her—there was no point. Lin Yi was reckless and fearless; begging might just get himself beaten up as well.

Lin Yi brought Yang Yujia forward. “Hit her,” he said.

Bao Shasha feigned ignorance. “What gives you the right to make her hit me?”

“Because you hit her,” Lin Yi replied.

Bao Shasha put on a pitiful act. “Who saw me do it? You might be a good fighter, but there’s no evidence. I won’t accept it.”

“Shall we have someone check if the handprint on Yujia’s face matches yours?” Lin Yi asked, a faint smile on his lips.

Bao Shasha’s expression changed. Knowing she’d get beaten anyway, she fell silent.

“Hit her,” Lin Yi repeated.

Yang Yujia bit her lip—she wasn’t used to hitting people and didn’t know how to start.

Bao Shasha shot her a subtle glare.

Slap.

It was Lin Yi who struck. A red mark bloomed on Bao Shasha’s cheek.

But he wasn’t finished; he struck her other cheek as well.

“I only hit her once—why are you hitting me twice?” Bao Shasha shouted in anger.

She was a beauty, usually fawned over by men with crowds of admirers. Now she’d been slapped twice in a row.

“Consider it a lesson,” Lin Yi replied. Then he turned to Yang Yujia. “Let’s go.”

“Mm.” Yang Yujia nodded sweetly, warmed by how Lin Yi stood up for her.