Starting as The Young Master of A Pharmacy, He Trained Swordsmanship in Seclusion For Twenty Years - Chapter 28

The man’s curses, however, didn’t provoke anger in the young nobleman—only confusion.

“Who are you?”

Clearly, the young man didn’t recognize him.

Seeing that he had been forgotten, Zhang Heng let out a bitter laugh.

So, in his eyes, the violation of my daughter and my vengeance were nothing more than trivial matters?

Like crushing an ant on the roadside—utterly insignificant.

In contrast, the four bodyguards recognized Zhang Heng immediately and tensed up.

One of them even shouted a warning to his master.

“Young Master, it’s him! The one who attacked you three years ago!”

“Zhang Heng!”

The name made the young nobleman pause, but soon, realization dawned.

A smirk curled on his lips as if recalling something amusing.

“Oh!”

“So it’s you, old bastard!”

“You’ve been a wanted fugitive all this time, and yet you’re still alive?”

Ah, the father of that little whore.

Memories flooded back—the delicate, pretty girl he had seized from the streets and dragged into his mansion.

The way she had suffered, the despair in her eyes—it had thrilled him.

But then she had escaped and hanged herself.

He had been furious, deprived of his toy, and even scolded by his family’s patriarch.

Just a lowly servant girl. What did it matter if she died?

That wretched bitch should have been honored to be his plaything. Instead, her death had gotten him confined to his quarters for a whole day.

“Instead of hiding like a rat, you’ve got the nerve to come crawling back?”

The young man’s face darkened with irritation as he glared at Zhang Heng.

“But since you’re here, I’ll be merciful and send you to your grave!”

“Kill him!”

With a wave of his hand, he ordered his four guards forward.

“Yes, Young Master!”

“Young beast, how could I die before you?” Zhang Heng sneered.

Before the words fully left his mouth, two of the burly guards lunged, their auras radiating the peak of Flesh-Forging Realm prowess.

Their blades gleamed with murderous intent, aimed straight for Zhang Heng’s skull.

Yet Zhang Heng stood motionless, as if oblivious.

THUD!

A dull impact echoed.

In the blink of an eye, the two guards were sent flying like cannonballs, smashing into the alley walls.

The sturdy stonework crumbled under the force, and the men collapsed with agonized howls.

“Agh—!”

Just like that, the once-ferocious fighters lay unconscious amidst the rubble.

The remaining two guards froze, then paled as their eyes darted to the silent figure beside Zhang Heng.

Even the smug young nobleman lost his composure, fear flickering across his face.

He was spoiled, not stupid.

It was him!

Where did this martial expert come from?

None of them had even seen the man move. In an instant, two Flesh-Forging Realm warriors had been effortlessly neutralized.

Bone-Tempering Realm?

One guard hastily shielded the young master, shouting in panic,

“Young Master, be careful! That’s a Bone-Tempering Realm expert!”

Then, cupping his fists toward the silent figure, he pleaded,

“Senior, we serve the County Magistrate’s household. This young master is his nephew!”

“Please, for the Magistrate’s sake, stay out of this. If you leave now, His Honor will overlook tonight’s events. Otherwise…”

He left the threat unspoken, but the implication was clear.

A mere Bone-Tempering warrior was nothing before the Magistrate’s authority.

Surely, no one would dare defy that name.

But when they looked again, the mysterious figure beside Zhang Heng had vanished.

Relief began to settle—until a towering shadow engulfed them.

He’s behind us!

The guards whirled, but too late.

A crushing blow to their necks plunged them into darkness.

Only the young nobleman remained, trembling and alone.

The mysterious man—Lu Xuan—cast one last glance at Zhang Heng before leaping onto the rooftops and disappearing into the night.

As he fled, a ripple stirred in Lu Xuan’s long-dormant heart.

Zhang Heng’s choice left him pensive.

The commotion would draw attention soon. Zhang Heng could have killed the nobleman swiftly and escaped.

Instead, he chose to linger—to make the bastard suffer, even if it cost him his own life.

What Lu Xuan didn’t realize was that Zhang Heng had died long ago, the day his daughter took her life.

He had clung to existence for one purpose only.

Now, it was fulfilled.

“Kekeke…”

“Little beast,” Zhang Heng grinned, staring at the limbless nobleman. “Let’s go to hell together.”

The young man, barely into the Flesh-Forging Realm and weakened by debauchery, was no match.

With a single strike, Zhang Heng shattered his defenses.

“AHH—!”

“Spare me! I was wrong! PLEASE!”

Zhang Heng raised a honed cleaver. No words. Just methodical cuts.

No quick death—only slow torment.

“AAAGH—!”

“Y-You… My father will butcher you for this!”

Screams echoed through the alley, each more harrowing than the last.