“Jiang Fei, what’s the situation?”
An anxious voice called from behind as Ye Yuanyuan, panting heavily from the sprint, finally caught up.
Jiang Fei stood up, dusted off his hands, and glanced at her lazily. “With me personally handling it, what else could happen? Of course, it was a piece of cake! This guy’s already down and out. Just haul him away.”
Still catching her breath, Ye Yuanyuan ignored Jiang Fei’s smug expression and immediately looked at Tian Fei, who was lying on the ground, twitching weakly. Her face filled with shock. “You actually beat him? You’re the one who reduced him to this state?!”
In high spirits after confirming that the “North Profound Divine Art” was no longer useless, Jiang Fei grinned. “If not me, then who? You? I offered to come along today, but you weren’t too keen at first. Now you see how capable I am, huh?”
“……” Ye Yuanyuan was too stunned to speak.
After what had just happened, she understood even more clearly how terrifying Tian Fei was. She had been worried that Jiang Fei, chasing Tian Fei alone, might end up killed.
Yet the outcome had completely reversed.
Could Jiang Fei’s combat ability really be this formidable?
“Earlier, I vaguely heard something about the ‘Nine Swords of Dugu’ and ‘Li’s Flying Dagger’—what was that about?” Ye Yuanyuan asked.
Without missing a beat, Jiang Fei replied unabashedly, “This guy wasn’t convinced, so he asked how I beat him. I told him I used the North Profound Divine Art to drain his internal energy…”
Ye Yuanyuan rolled her eyes. Naturally, she didn’t believe Jiang Fei actually knew the North Profound Divine Art.
Did he think this was some TV drama?
Still, seeing Jiang Fei unharmed and Tian Fei subdued, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
Meanwhile, Tian Fei, still too weak to stand, flushed with fury, nearly coughing up blood in indignation.
This bastard was outright mocking his intelligence!
“Wait—where’s Mangguo?!”
Ye Yuanyuan suddenly remembered her best friend and frantically scanned the area. Spotting Bai Mangguo discarded nearby, she rushed over and picked her up, her voice urgent. “Jiang Fei, come quick! What’s wrong with Mangguo?”
Only then did Jiang Fei recall Ye Yuanyuan’s friend. Checking her pulse and breathing, he quickly reassured her. “She’s fine. Just unconscious. No serious harm done.”
The proud young woman had likely been scared out of her wits these past few days. For a pampered heiress like her, being kidnapped was a nightmare. Though she hadn’t suffered life-threatening injuries, her physical condition was poor—she’d need time to recover.
Relieved by Jiang Fei’s words, Ye Yuanyuan relaxed. She knew how skilled Jiang Fei was in medicine—if he said Mangguo was fine, she trusted it.
Soon after, a team of black-clad operatives arrived. Under Ye Yuanyuan’s orders, Tian Fei was taken away for interrogation. No matter how tight-lipped he was, they’d try every method—no matter how brutal—to crack him open.
Bai Mangguo was rushed back to the city for hospitalization, while Jiang Fei and Ye Yuanyuan returned to the site of the explosion, their expressions grim.
The toxic fumes had long dissipated, leaving only lingering smoke and dust. The collapsed ruins of the abandoned factory made it clear—none of the twenty elite soldiers who had first stormed the place could have survived.
Nearly twenty lives, snuffed out just like that.
The excitement of capturing Tian Fei faded from Ye Yuanyuan’s eyes, replaced by fury and regret. As the mission’s commander, she bore responsibility for these deaths. If not for her rash decisions, these men might still be alive…
“Let’s go back!” she said coldly, her voice laced with murderous intent. “I almost hope that bastard doesn’t break too easily.”
Never before had the usually violent-tempered woman been this enraged.
Her words left no ambiguity—she wanted Tian Fei to suffer before talking.
Lin Moli’s flight was due to land in Beijing at 10 a.m.
So Jiang Fei set out early, arriving at the airport by 9:30 in Bai Ruoxi’s Volvo. Luck was on his side—he quickly found a parking spot. But just as he was about to pull in—
SCREECH!
The ear-piercing sound of tires skidding tore through the air as a flashy red Maserati Quattroporte roared up from behind. With an obnoxiously showy drift, it cut in front of Jiang Fei and stole the spot.
Jiang Fei hadn’t been moving slowly, so despite the Maserati’s skilled maneuver, it still grazed the Volvo, leaving minor scratches on both cars.
Before Jiang Fei could even step out, the Maserati’s driver—a young man in sunglasses, clearly a spoiled rich kid—stormed over and started yelling. “What the hell, dumbass?! Learn how to drive! Couldn’t you see me coming?!”
Jiang Fei’s temper flared.
This punk steals my spot, scratches my car, and then curses me out?
He had no inherent dislike for wealthy brats, nor did he resent the rich. Normally, he’d ignore them—live and let live. But if they crossed him? He wasn’t about to back down.
Now, as the head of the Chinese Medical Association and a soon-to-be martial arts master, Jiang Fei had nothing to fear.
Stepping out, he smirked. “Who’re you calling a dumbass? Here’s your choice: move your car, return my spot, and apologize, and I’ll let this slide. Otherwise, don’t blame me for what happens next.”
Honestly, Jiang Fei had no reason to hold back these days.
A Maserati? Big deal. China wasn’t short on rich kids with flashy cars.
“Oh? A tough guy, huh?” The young man removed his sunglasses, amused. “I was gonna let you off with a warning since I’m in a hurry, but you’re pushing it. What, you want me to pay for the scratch? Your Volvo’s not even in the same league as my car!”
With a condescending pat on Jiang Fei’s shoulder, he added, “Kid, don’t be reckless. I’ve got people to pick up. If you’re so desperate for this spot, go ahead—smash my car. It’s just a cheap Maserati, barely over two million. Knock yourself out!”
Replacing his sunglasses, he brushed past Jiang Fei, heading for the terminal without a backward glance.
He was certain Jiang Fei wouldn’t dare touch his car.
But barely a few steps away—
CRASH! BANG! THUD!
The young man spun around, stunned, as Jiang Fei calmly punched through the Maserati’s windows and kicked dents into its doors like they were made of paper.
“YOU SON OF A—!” the rich kid roared, ripping off his sunglasses. “I, Su Mengnan, swear I’ll end you today!”
With that, the brat lunged, throwing a fierce punch straight at Jiang Fei’s back—
A textbook “Half-Step Cannon Fist” from Xingyi Quan, executed with surprising skill for someone his age.
Most people would’ve been floored by it.
But Jiang Fei wasn’t most people.
After absorbing Tian Fei’s internal energy, his physical abilities had soared. Smashing car windows barehanded was child’s play now.
“Huh. A martial artist?”
Turning smoothly, Jiang Fei met the punch with an open palm.
