Chapter Two: Ants

The bald man curled his lips into a sinister grin, certain of victory, not sparing Lin Feng the slightest concern. After all, just yesterday he and his group had beaten Lin Feng so badly he landed in the emergency room. In his eyes, Lin Feng was nothing more than a weak, spineless wretch—a live-in son-in-law, a mere pretty face.

“Haha! Kid, today I’ll show you why the flowers are so red!” he cackled, swinging a punch straight at Lin Feng’s nose.

Yet, the punch that seemed so certain did not even graze Lin Feng. Instead, Lin Feng gently raised a hand and caught the blow as if it landed on a pillow, utterly harmless.

With a soft smack, Lin Feng’s palm tightened, his five fingers locking around the bald man’s fist. Slowly, Lin Feng lifted his head; his eyes glinted with waves of murderous intent. A wild, untamed aura burst from him, like a dragon raging through the fields, a storm that made it hard to keep one’s eyes open.

Suddenly, in a voice as cold as the depths of the underworld, he spoke: “Insects, you seek your own destruction.”

“Damn you! You really dare to fight back? You must have a death wish! I’m telling you, let go now, or—”

The bald man, oblivious to Lin Feng’s transformation, continued to threaten him with contempt.

But he didn’t know that, in Lin Feng’s eyes, they were as insignificant as motes of dust in the vast cosmos—utterly inconsequential.

With a sickening crack, Lin Feng’s wrist flexed, his fingers exploding with strength. In an instant, he crushed the man’s fist, bones jutting out, hand utterly destroyed.

A shriek burst from the bald man—his threats cut short by agony so intense it drew blood and tears. “My hand—! Damn it! My hand!”

Hysterical, he screamed, “Let go! Let go! Lin, if you don’t want to die, then let go!”

“Let go? Very well.”

No sooner had Lin Feng spoken than he released his grip.

The bald man, thinking Lin Feng still feared the power of the Heavenly Dragon Hall and Young Master Long, grew arrogant again. With his left hand, he pounded the ground and shouted, “Kneel and apologize! Cripple your hands, or Young Master Long and the Heavenly Dragon Hall will never let you off!”

“They won’t let me off? How perfect. I never intended to let them off, either.”

Lin Feng’s eyes narrowed, a blade’s killing intent gathering within them. His gaze cut like a sword as his right hand shot out.

A resounding slap echoed through the room.

The bald man felt his whole body sail through the air like a broken kite, slamming into the hospital room door. His spine shattered audibly.

He crashed to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth. When he looked up at Lin Feng again, his eyes held nothing but terror.

A man weighing over two hundred pounds had been sent flying with a single slap!

Was this even human?

The two lackeys who’d accompanied the bald man stood frozen, like puppets with broken strings, their worldviews shattered.

Lin Feng rose slowly, straightening his hospital gown and casting an indifferent glance at the two henchmen.

“Grandpa Lin—this has nothing to do with me!” one stammered.

“Yes, Young Master Lin, it was all Baldy’s idea, we just—” the other pleaded.

Before they could finish, Lin Feng’s right hand flicked out, sending both crashing into the wall, pinned there and ignored.

Dusting off his hands, Lin Feng strolled unhurriedly to where the bald man lay.

“What do you want? I’ll have you know, I’m Young Master Long’s right hand! Hurt me and—”

The bald man, like a dying cur, crawled backward, desperate to put any distance between himself and Lin Feng.

Even now, he clung to Long Yaoyang’s reputation, hoping to intimidate Lin Feng—a pitiful, laughable display.

“Long Yaoyang? In my eyes, he’s no different from a dead dog. And you, you’re nothing but a bug. I could crush you with a single step.”

With those words, Lin Feng raised his foot and pressed it onto the bald man’s chest. The moment he exerted force, the man’s ribs began to snap like firecrackers—bones shattered beneath the pressure.

Terror flooded the bald man’s eyes as he finally broke down, clutching Lin Feng’s leg and wailing, “Grandpa! I, Liu Baldy, admit defeat! I’m a bug, a filthy worm! Please, spare my life! I deserve to die! I beg you, have mercy!”

Lin Feng cast him a cold glance, then withdrew his foot.

After all, this was modern China—a society of laws, not the primal universe where only the strong survived and the victor ruled. Killing in broad daylight would bring endless trouble, especially now that he had no cultivation and no power to defy the state. He decided to let this wretch go for now, since such ants could be crushed at any time.

The ones Lin Feng truly wished to flay alive were Long Yaoyang and Liang Fengnian, the men lurking behind all this.

“Get out!”

To the bald man, Lin Feng’s low command sounded like divine music. Scrambling to his feet, he fled, hatred burning in his heart as he glanced back: “Lin! If I don’t avenge this, I’m no man!”

With that matter settled, Lin Feng changed out of his hospital clothes, packed his things, and prepared for discharge. After all, he could recover faster through his own cultivation than any hospital treatment.

Before leaving, he glanced once more at the familiar hospital bed, his eyes cold, a faint aura of menace surrounding him—unmoving, unyielding.

In his heart, he murmured, “Liang Fengnian, in my previous life, you killed my parents and massacred my clan. In this life, I will skin you alive, shatter your bones, and burn your soul! Last time, I was powerless, bullied by all, haunted by demons. This time, I will rise, avenge my blood debt, stand atop the world, and crush every enemy to erase those inner demons!”

With this thought, Lin Feng’s expression changed; his entire demeanor transformed, as if he’d become a sword piercing the heavens—once unsheathed, it would shake the world.

He picked up his luggage and strode from the ward. Just outside, he passed two nurses whispering as they hurried by:

“Who would’ve thought the Tang family invited the famous healer Liu Fanghe to treat Old Master Tang? His fees are astronomical!”

“True, but I doubt even Doctor Liu can do much now. The old man’s been gravely ill for so long—if he could be cured, it would’ve happened already.”

“What a pity!”

Tang family? Old Master Tang?

A powerful name surfaced in Lin Feng’s mind—Tang Wangu.

Tang Wangu, it was said, had served as a bodyguard for a founding hero during the liberation era, earning great military merit and commanding immense respect in Binhai’s military circles. The Tang family he built spread across the military, government, and business worlds, excelling in all three. Their influence was so great that a single stomp could shake the entire city—a true patriarch of an ancient family.

A man who had once shed blood for his country—Lin Feng could not ignore him.

After a moment’s thought, he picked up his bag and turned toward Old Master Tang’s hospital room.