Chapter 13

"Mr. Han, what happened?"

Han Chuanwu’s anguished screams naturally drew the attention of the company’s bodyguards. In an instant, more than a dozen men charged directly into his office. The scene before them made them immediately surround Chu Tianhe.

“Kill him! Kill him for me!” Han Chuanwu howled hysterically, his eyes bloodshot, hellbent on tearing Chu Tianhe to pieces.

“Go!” At the bodyguard captain’s command, the group surged forward without hesitation. Each one was a martial arts expert hired at a high price by Han Chuanwu, their attacks ruthless, fists slicing the air with deadly force.

Yet, just as they closed in, Chu Tianhe’s sharp gaze swept over them. In that instant, an overwhelming surge of ancient martial energy erupted from him. The sheer intensity of his aura alone crushed all the bodyguards.

A thunderous force, as if Mount Tai itself descended upon them, pressed down the moment they neared Chu Tianhe. Unable to withstand the pressure, every single one of them fell to their knees with a resounding clang.

“Today, I settle accounts with Han Chuanwu alone.” Chu Tianhe’s eyes swept over the kneeling bodyguards, then he withdrew his martial pressure, granting them a chance. “If you want to live, leave now. There’s still time.”

They were only hired hands, not the true villains. Chu Tianhe had no wish to harm them.

A simultaneous gulp ran through the bodyguards. In that brief moment, they understood that the man before them was far beyond their ability to contend with. To fight would mean certain death.

“Go find my godfather! Hurry, go get my godfather to save me!” Han Chuanwu was no fool. Seeing his highly paid bodyguards so easily defeated, he realized Chu Tianhe’s strength and immediately changed tactics, grasping for his lifeline—Mr. Lü Liang of Jiangzhou.

In Jiangzhou, if the Li family was the power in the open, Lü Liang—the man Han Chuanwu called godfather—was the invisible hand in the shadows, gripping the city’s powers by the throat. Compared to the Li family, Lü Liang’s ruthlessness was second to none. Even the Lis paid him tribute each month for their own security.

But now, Han Chuanwu had played Lü Liang’s name in front of everyone. The bodyguards’ gazes shifted instantly to Chu Tianhe, cursing their luck. They knew they were no match and had no will to fight. Chu Tianhe had already granted them leave, and if not for Han Chuanwu’s outburst, they might have escaped unscathed. But now...

Leaving would not be so simple.

However, Chu Tianhe did nothing to stop the bodyguards from leaving. He understood—they were only earning a living. The fault lay solely with Han Chuanwu.

Only then did the bodyguards breathe a sigh of relief and hastily retreated from the room.

No sooner had they gone than a cold light flashed. Without hesitation, Chu Tianhe’s dagger slashed straight into Han Chuanwu’s chest—a blow so deep it struck bone, blood spurting forth.

Han Chuanwu howled in agony.

“This cut is for your ingratitude,” Chu Tianhe said coldly. Without a pause, his blade slashed again, this time across Han Chuanwu’s back.

“This cut is for your inhumanity.”

Another deep wound, blood spraying across the carpet.

Again and again, Chu Tianhe’s dagger whirled in a dance of icy light, tracing afterimages through the air. With each flash, pieces of Han Chuanwu’s flesh flew, his body steadily reduced beneath the relentless torment.

The punishment was slow and excruciating.

Under Chu Tianhe’s hand, with Han Chuanwu’s screams echoing, what remained kneeling on the floor was little more than bare white bone.

...

Elsewhere, nestled between mountain and water, stood a small villa—not large, but uniquely refined, embracing the landscape’s grace. It was said to be the most expensive and exclusive residence in all of Jiangzhou, surpassing the Li family’s estate by several measures. The owner was none other than Lü Liang, Han Chuanwu’s godfather.

After leaving Han Chuanwu’s office, the captain of the bodyguards rushed urgently to this very villa.

He was a man who honored his obligations. Though bested by Chu Tianhe, his professionalism and loyalty remained. Failing to protect Han Chuanwu was already a dereliction of duty; the least he could do now was seek help on his behalf.

“Master Lü, Mr. Han’s enemy has come for revenge. I beg you to intervene!” Standing tall in the villa, the captain recounted every detail of the incident.

Lü Liang sat on the sofa, a plate of blood-red raw meat before him, knife and fork arranged neatly at his side, as if about to dine.

“You’re Han Chuanwu’s bodyguard?” Lü Liang looked up, his gaze cold and inscrutable, a ruthless glint flashing in his deep eyes. The look alone made the captain’s scalp tingle, unable to meet his stare.

“Yes,” the bodyguard nodded quickly.

“If you’re Han Chuanwu’s bodyguard, shouldn’t you be at his side right now?” Lü Liang’s voice was low, icy, and harsh—its rasp set one’s nerves on edge.

“We… the man is too strong. We were no match… so I… I had no choice but to come ask for your help.”

The captain lowered his head, speaking the truth.

“No match?” Lü Liang’s voice rose sharply, and a cold light flashed in his eyes. “If that’s the case, what use are you?”

With those words, Lü Liang picked up the fork from the table. A sharp force gathered in his palm as the fork spun rapidly in his grip, aiming straight for the captain’s throat—a speed and precision that chilled the soul.

With a sickening sound, the fork shattered the bodyguard’s throat and buried itself deep.

Clutching his neck in vain, the captain convulsed on the floor, blood gushing from his mouth until he lay still.

“Someone, drag this trash away!” Lü Liang’s eyes narrowed, a cold gleam passing through them. “Xiaowu, Xiaofeng, you’re coming with me. I want to see for myself—just who is this Chu Tianhe?”