Chapter Forty-Two: The Chi Family's Fury

Returning to the hotel where they were staying, it was already past four in the morning.

The three of them were utterly exhausted—not from the mission itself, but from the long hours of driving.

“I’ve transferred the money to you, thanks for your help, love you, mwah!” she blew a kiss to Chu Xingran, dragging her weary body back to her room.

Chu Xingran saw the payment notification and, in a good mood, bid Mo Han goodnight before heading to her own room for a shower and some sleep.

Mo Han fared a little better than the other two. He stretched his long legs, strolling leisurely toward his room, but paused to glance at the elevator lobby not far away.

Heh, how amusing.

All he wanted was a quiet, peaceful life—why was that so difficult? Why did there always have to be those who didn’t know their place, rushing in to disturb his tranquility, making it impossible for him to enjoy life as he wished?

He, such a decent person, had been pestered until he became cold, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. Though this version of himself was admittedly a bit cool, the reputation it brought wasn’t exactly flattering—it might even ruin his chances of finding a girlfriend.

Unconcerned with anything else, he went back to his room, took a shower, then lay on the bed scrolling through his phone.

The old men in his family seemed quite at ease this time; after all this time, they’d only sent a few messages to check in, not a word more.

As expected!

Anything to do with the Gu family, and they always turned a blind eye!

By contrast, life was not so pleasant for Gu Zhiheng on Wumei Mountain. These days could only be described as unbearable.

Though he was growing stronger even as he was beaten, taking a beating every day was simply too much—he was constantly bruised and battered.

Those old monsters especially liked to aim for his face, each one jealous, envious, and resentful—surely because he was young and handsome!

At first, the agreement was one person per day, but it turned into two days per person!

Good grief, he’d barely survived a savage thrashing from Bai Kun, that old fox.

There was no respite; next up was another old monster from the Winged Tiger clan—Chengdu.

With fists the size of sandbags and the strength to break ten ribs in a single blow, by the end of two days he’d lost count of how many bones had been broken and reset.

If not for their special medicines, he doubted he could have endured it.

They were a bunch of maniacs, dismantling him every night and piecing him back together before dawn.

When he woke up after a brief sleep, they’d start breaking his bones all over again, treating it like their daily amusement, tormenting him endlessly.

He’d weighed one hundred and forty pounds when he’d left the ancestral hall; now he was probably down to one hundred and twenty.

At six-foot-five, to weigh only a hundred and twenty pounds—he was as thin as a bamboo pole.

His once charming and handsome self was gone, never to return!

“Come on, you old bastard, can’t you stop hitting my face? Are you jealous I’m better looking than you?” Old Orchid was just too sly.

To be honest, all the denizens of the forbidden peak were a bunch of sly old devils—utterly unmatched!

Let’s introduce Old Orchid: his name was Jing Hong, though he himself no longer remembered if he was over a thousand or two thousand years old.

He’d been here so long he’d lost track of the years.

Still, he was quite grateful to Gu Zhiheng for randomly picking the right surname for his own grandson—one less thing for him to worry about. He owed Gu Zhiheng some thanks.

And how best to thank him? Naturally, by hitting even harder!

“Me, jealous of you? Keep dreaming! Take this!” Jing Hong looked at Gu Zhiheng with utter disdain; his face was as swollen as a pig’s head—what was handsome about that?

Besides, Gu Zhiheng now looked like a malnourished walking stick, ugly as sin.

If anyone was truly good-looking, it was that boy from the Mo family; Gu Zhiheng was at best delicate.

If he matured a bit, developed a more reserved and cold aura, maybe he’d have a shot at being handsome.

But that was talking about Ye Zheng; the current person was Gu Zhiheng.

“Old Jing, can’t you stop hitting just me? If you don’t knock it off, I’ll burn your lair to the ground tomorrow!” His face—ruined!

He didn’t care much about looks, but they couldn’t just keep aiming for his face; that was personal.

“Hit me back if you can! If not, stop whining and take it like a man!” Jing Hong bellowed, voice rough, and followed up with a slap.

Gu Zhiheng felt a bit aggrieved by now—these old bastards were just bullies.

After so many days with them, he’d learned to be shameless; their brand of shamelessness had rubbed off on him.

Perhaps it was true grievance. Gu Zhiheng started attacking with ruthless moves, each aimed at Jing Hong’s vital spots.

But in Jing Hong’s eyes, it was little more than child’s play—not even worth mentioning.

As dawn broke, Gu Zhiheng was utterly spent.

Catching Jing Hong’s final blow, he simply let himself collapse onto the ground.

Another day of being dismantled, another night of sound sleep.

His days and nights were now reversed—sleep all day, get beaten all night.

Jing Hua no longer had time to follow him around; he hadn’t eaten in ages, living off breathwork, or occasionally absorbing spiritual energy from the world just to keep himself alive.

...

“Mo Han, you killed my son—don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” The woman opposite, still elegant despite her years, glared angrily at the three of them.

Mo Han wore his usual look of indifference, infuriating enough to kill.

Chu Xingran also ignored the wealthy matron completely—such a brainless woman wasn’t worth engaging.

Chen Yuan sat on the sofa, legs crossed, leisurely munching on sunflower seeds, her face the very picture of “what can you do?” as the old woman shrieked insults.

Today, the ones blocking their way were the old lady of the Chi family and Chi Chen’s mother—two women utterly ignorant of their own limits.

The one shouting at Mo Han was Chi Chen’s mother; the one yelling at Chen Yuan was the old matriarch.

Neither of these two was any good—both the sort to treat people according to their own interests.

“Chen Yuan, you wretch, how dare you—how dare you kill my grandson!” The old lady wailed bitterly, tears and snot streaming down her face—a rather disgusting sight.

“Oh? Was that what you said when you tried to kill me all those years ago? If I deserved to die, why didn’t he?” Dealing with her nonsense—did she really take her for a fool?

She could have been a good spirit beast, but instead she just had to come to the mortal world and learn all the scheming ways of the aristocracy—what a joke!

“Chi Zhou, you little bastard, look at the sort of wretch you fancy! She actually killed your brother!” When she found herself unable to out-shout Chen Yuan, the old lady turned to curse at Chi Zhou in the distance.

The Chi family really had something wrong with their heads—not caring for their own flesh and blood, doting on the illegitimate son instead.

A whole family of lunatics; thank goodness she never married in, or she’d have been driven mad by them eventually.