"What… what are you trying to do?"
Wei Zhen's face paled as Qin Chen raised his hand, delivering a swift slap across his cheek. Wei Zhen's heart jolted with panic, instinctively wanting to resist, but Qin Chen's strike was too fast. Before Wei Zhen could even lift a hand, the true qi-infused slap landed with a resounding crack.
Smack!
The sharp sound echoed as Wei Zhen was sent flying, blood and broken teeth spraying through the air. He crashed to the ground like a ragdoll, half his face swelling grotesquely, a mix of purple and blue. He writhed, letting out pained wails.
The shocking scene left Wei Zhao, standing nearby, trembling with fear, his legs weak and his body chilled. His only thought was to bolt from the room, but Qin Chen stood squarely in his escape path.
"You little bastard, do you know who I am? How dare you hit me! You're dead—you hear me? Dead!" Wei Zhen roared, struggling to prop himself up. His bloodshot eyes blazed with feral rage, his face twisted into a terrifying mask that sent shivers down the spine.
Fury—unprecedented, all-consuming fury!
Never in his life had Wei Zhen suffered such humiliation. The searing shame flooded his chest, clouding his vision, urging him to tear Qin Chen apart on the spot.
But Qin Chen's response was a swift kick.
Crack!
Wei Zhen's jaw dislocated under the blow, blood and saliva splattering as he collapsed with a thud. His head throbbed, his body convulsing in agony.
"You're Wei Zhen, right? Let this be a warning—don't cross me. I'm giving you one chance. If there's a next time, I swear I'll end you," Qin Chen said, looming over him. His gaze, sharp and commanding, bore down on Wei Zhen, his entire presence radiating an overwhelming aura.
Boom!
Wei Zhen's mind went blank, enveloped by an oppressive shadow of death. Qin Chen's eyes were like twin swords, piercing his soul.
"Ah!" Wei Zhen let out a scream of abject terror, his heart gripped by a fear he'd never known. It was as if he'd been plunged into the depths of the underworld, tormented endlessly.
A wet patch spread across his trousers, the warm sensation snapping him back to reality. Qin Chen's glare had scared him into wetting himself—a humiliation far worse than death for the prideful Wei Zhen.
Bang!
Qin Chen's foot slammed into Wei Zhen's dantian, eliciting a final scream before he passed out.
Wei Zhao, watching from the side, was petrified, his face drained of color. Realizing the gravity of the situation, he abandoned all thought and charged toward the door, desperate to escape.
His only thought: Get out. Get away from this demon.
"Trying to run now? Too late," Qin Chen said coldly. A single punch sent Wei Zhao reeling back, crashing heavily to the ground.
Tap, tap, tap.
Qin Chen's footsteps approached like the tread of a reaper. Wei Zhao, ignoring his pain, scrambled to his knees, pleading frantically. "Qin Chen—no, no, Young Master Chen, Lord Chen, please, spare me! I'll never do it again, I swear! I'm less than a beast—please, let me go!"
"Wrong. You're lower than a beast," Qin Chen said, his eyes icy. A kick to Wei Zhao's dantian sent him flying, his sturdy frame hitting the ground with a thud. His eyes rolled back, and he too fainted.
Qin Chen sneered. He hadn't killed them, but his true qi had damaged their dantians. They'd feel fine upon waking, but their cultivation would never progress again.
Turning to Lin Tian and Zhang Ying, Qin Chen helped them up, gently massaging their injuries. A warm current flowed through their bodies, easing their pain and reducing their swelling.
"Young Master Chen, you're…" Lin Tian and Zhang Ying gaped, awestruck by Qin Chen's display. The sheer decisiveness of his actions left them dazed, overwhelmed by shock.
"Go rest and recover. Those two won't dare bother you again," Qin Chen said calmly.
A twinge of guilt stirred in him. If not for him, Lin Tian and Zhang Ying wouldn't have been targeted by Wei Zhao.
"We're fine, but Young Master Chen, you've beaten those two so badly… I'm worried…" Lin Tian and Zhang Ying exchanged anxious glances.
Even now, they were concerned for Qin Chen's safety.
Wei Zhao was merely the second son of Marquis Wei Qi, but Wei Zhen was the heir. Having thrashed Wei Zhen so thoroughly, Qin Chen risked serious repercussions if Marquis Wei Qi confronted Marquis Anping.
"I'll be fine. Don't worry," Qin Chen reassured them, a warmth spreading in his chest. Who says the world is full of malice? The betrayal he'd suffered from Feng Shaoyu in his past life began to heal, soothed by their concern.
"I have two cultivation chants for you to practice when you return," Qin Chen said, noting their stalled progress at the peak of early Human Level. With a thought, he imparted two chants to them.
"Young Master Chen, what are these?" they asked, puzzled.
"You'll understand once you practice them," Qin Chen replied.
He sighed inwardly. Even after Feng Shaoyu's betrayal, he still believed in friendship. I hope I haven't misjudged them this time.
The chants were minor techniques to him, plucked effortlessly from his vast knowledge, hardly precious in his eyes.
After seeing Lin Tian and Zhang Ying off, Qin Chen headed back to the Qin residence, lost in thought.
The consequences of injuring Wei Zhen and Wei Zhao didn't concern him—they were trivial matters. His focus was on his future cultivation.
Having successfully rebuilt his meridians, Qin Chen's training was now on track. However, martial arts demanded vast resources, especially for someone practicing the Nine Star God Emperor Technique. Each stage required several times—sometimes ten times—the resources of an ordinary martial artist.
It was an astronomical sum.
As the saying went, money wasn't everything, but for a martial artist without it, progress was impossible.
Qin Chen was currently strapped for funds. His past training had relied on Qin Yuechi's support, but her precarious position in the Qin family limited what she could provide.
I need to find a way to earn money.
Mulling over ways to generate income, Qin Chen arrived at the Qin residence without realizing it.
"Young Master Chen," the two guards at the gate greeted respectfully, but their eyes held a strange glint, as if something unusual had occurred.
Qin Chen noted it with mild curiosity but didn't dwell on it, stepping into the residence.
Suddenly, a fragrant breeze swept past, and a tall girl in a red dress appeared before him. She looked about eighteen or nineteen, her youth radiant. Her long, dark hair cascaded freely, framing bright eyes, a delicate nose, and rosy lips. Her flawless skin exuded a vibrant, youthful energy.