Vol. 2 - Chapter 71 - The Young Truly Are Fearsome

Xue Ming stared blankly at Xiaofu, lips trembling in fury.

“You… you—how could you eat it?!”

Xiaofu tilted her small face up, confused.

“It… it jumped into my mouth on its own…” she said softly, aggrieved.

She opened her mouth, trying to spit out the tiny centipede.

But nothing came out.

Seeing this, Xue Ming nearly collapsed from rage.

Beside her, maid Sidu stood tense, eyes wary.

She quickly pulled Xiaofu behind her.

Xue Ming muttered under his breath, voice shaking: “If I bleed her out now… cut her open… there might still be time.”

“Wait too long, and it’ll dissolve completely…”

His eyes glinted cruelly at the thought.

Turning sharply toward Xiaofu, his gaze dark and vicious, he reached with a bony hand to grab her.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Sidu cried out.

Xue Ming’s greenish pupils flashed coldly as he snorted and struck her with a single palm.

With a dull thud, the maid flew ten feet through the air, landing heavily on the ground, twitching twice.

Her face blanched white, then turned green, finally purpling.

A dark green palm print burned across her chest, black blood spilling from her mouth and nose.

Her head lolled—and within moments, she was dead.

Screams erupted from the street.

“Ahhhh!”

“Murder!”

“He’s killing people!”

Terrified onlookers fled, tripping over each other, desperate to grow extra legs to escape faster.

Xue Ming’s pale green eyes swung back to Xiaofu, expression twisted with malice.

The child’s lips trembled as tears welled up—she’d just seen her maid die right before her.

Xue Ming snatched her wrist, voice chilling: “Little brat… you dared swallow my King Gu!”

Pouting, Xiaofu sank her teeth into his arm with all her might.

“Yowch!” Xue Ming yelped in pain, cursing. “You damned brat—you dare bite me?!”

He raised his hand to strike her.

But before the blow could fall—

Figures burst from the crowd.

Moving with lethal speed, their third-rank skills obvious, they drew blades and slashed at Xue Ming with vicious precision.

Alarm shot through him.

Those pea-sized green eyes darted around in disbelief. “Assassins?”

He racked his brain in confusion.

He’d been holed up refining Gu worms lately—hadn’t offended anyone.

Why were assassins here for him?

But the attackers pressed in, blades flashing in deadly rhythm, surrounding him.

Gripping Xiaofu tightly, Xue Ming slithered through their strikes with strange, snakelike movements.

“The Fengyu Tower’s Killing Formation?”

He recognized their techniques instantly.

But that didn’t make sense—Fengyu Tower was destroyed two years ago.

Where had these people crawled from?

Though isolated in mountain forests seeking poisonous creatures, Xue Ming still knew martial arts styles well.

Seeing these moves confirmed it—these were old Fengyu Tower arts.

His skeletal left hand dipped into his robe.

A moment later, he flung a sweeping cloud of sickly green dust at the killers.

The dust seared skin like acid, burning hot and sharp.

The third-rank assassins yelped and scrambled back, fleeing the poisonous haze.

When the air cleared—

Xue Ming was gone.

“Damn it—Miss Fu’s been taken!”

“After him!”

“I’ll find Hall Master Qin!”

The Yuye Hall assassins were frantic.

Their job was to guard the Orphanage’s children during outings—nothing had ever happened before.

Now, disaster.

If Xiaofu came to harm, the Grandmaster would never forgive them.

They sped down the street in pursuit, one assassin veering off to summon Qin Yi.

…

Within the Orphanage’s courtyard…

Chen Ye’s face darkened as he stared at the faint blue system map.

Xiaofu’s red dot was moving swiftly out of town.

Judging by the speed, whoever had her was at least third rank.

“Didn’t Yuye Hall have people tailing her?”

“How did this happen?” he muttered, voice low and cold.

Stepping forward—his body blurred—

Shrinking the earth to an inch!

In a heartbeat, he appeared outside the Orphanage gates.

Just as he was about to move again—

Two martial artists in coarse yellow hemp approached, eyes scanning him.

They exchanged glances before one asked, “You’re Dean Chen of the Orphanage?”

Chen Ye lifted his gaze slightly, eyes sweeping over them.

Both were third-rank fighters, faint killing intent clinging to them.

Chen Ye knew immediately: Qilin Pavilion assassins.

Tang Sect people had distinct airs, while Yuye Hall agents never approached without his leave.

As Chen Ye’s gaze landed on them, Xiao Song and Xiao Zhou felt their stomachs twist.

An invisible, primal fear gripped them—like being stared down by a beast in childhood, wooden cudgel in hand.

It was pure, suffocating dread.

Thankfully, Chen Ye only glanced at them before looking away.

But their palms still sweated.

“State your business,” Chen Ye said calmly.

Studying him carefully, they reassured themselves—he had no martial aura.

Drawing deep breaths, they struck together.

Xiao Song lunged with Shaolin grappling claws, fingers bent like eagle talons, whistling through the air with deadly skill.

Xiao Zhou joined, fingers fused into twin spears of inner force, stabbing for Chen Ye’s pressure points.

They’d scouted beforehand:

The Orphanage’s manager was called Chen Ye, known locally as Dean Chen.

He’d run the place for two years, mild-mannered, never feuded with anyone.

Neighbors liked him.

And they’d confirmed—he knew no martial arts.

Bandit Zhang Shun was an orphan, always returning here for New Year.

Clearly, Zhang Shun and Chen Ye were close.

Seizing Chen Ye and dragging him to Qilin Pavilion would give them leverage over Zhang.

It was a massive coup.

So the two held nothing back.

Even hunting rabbits, an assassin used full strength.

But as they closed in, Chen Ye’s brow twitched slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

They’re attacking… me?

A sigh touched his lips.

The young truly are fearless…

The instant before claws and spear-fingers reached him—

A surge of invisible inner force pulsed outward from Chen Ye’s body.

Bang!

Bang!

The assassins flew like ragdolls, cannon-shot into the distance.

They crashed hard, heads lolling sideways, unconscious.

Chen Ye hadn’t killed them—he had no thirst for blood.

But that innate qi burst would keep them down for hours.

Expression calm, he spared them not a glance and strode onward.