The room was dead silent.
Even though the dozens of men standing behind Jiang Hao were stunned, none of them dared to speak.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Jiang Hao said nothing as he brought the steel pipe down again and again, the dull blows echoing through the concrete room.
Gold Leopard's face had turned ghost white. He had no idea what he'd done wrong—why the brother he'd always trusted was suddenly beating his own men senseless.
Then, Jiang Hao knelt down in front of him. His voice was low and cold enough to freeze blood.
"This time," he said, "I'll make sure you understand what your mistake was."
He pointed toward Ye Fengwu, then at Qin Qinghan.
"He," Jiang Hao said, "is my big brother. And she… is my sister-in-law."
The words hit the room like a thunderclap.
Gold Leopard's eyes went wide. Then the realization sank in—and with it came despair.
He had just tried to lay hands on the woman his own boss called sister-in-law.
There was no surviving that.
The six young punks who'd attacked earlier started trembling uncontrollably. They had struck out at the Dragon King's brother and his wife. That wasn't just stupid—it was suicide.
Behind Jiang Hao, his men finally understood why their boss had been acting so strangely.
But what shocked them even more was that someone like Jiang Hao—the Eastern Dragon King, ruler of Haihua's underworld—had someone he called brother. Who the hell was this man?
Qin Qinghan, meanwhile, could barely process what she'd heard. Sister-in-law?
Her mind spun.
So Ye Fengwu isn't just a… she couldn't even think the word rapist.
He's connected to the underworld too?
What kind of nightmare had she walked into? She'd actually agreed to marry this man—this killer.
Gold Leopard started to sob, blood and tears streaking his filthy face. "Brother… Sister-in-law… I didn't know! I swear I didn't even touch her finger! Please—please spare me, I was blind, I was stupid—please don't kill me!"
Qin Qinghan's expression twisted. Despite everything, she was still a kind woman at heart. Seeing anyone so terrified, begging for their life—it stirred a flicker of pity. But fear kept her silent.
Jiang Hao looked at Ye Fengwu. "Brother Wu," he said softly, "what do you say?"
Ye Fengwu exhaled smoke, crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, and said flatly,
"Shouldn't be too hard for you, right?"
Jiang Hao understood instantly. He stood and barked,
"Seven bags. Clean it up."
The moment the words left his mouth, every man who'd been standing went rigid. Gold Leopard's face turned the color of ash.
"Boss, wait—!" one of the thugs cried.
But before he could finish, two enforcers grabbed him and dragged him out. The others followed—kicking, screaming, pleading, like dying dogs being hauled off to the slaughterhouse.
Gold Leopard didn't even beg again. He knew Jiang Hao too well. The Dragon King didn't bluff. Pleading would only make it hurt more.
Qin Qinghan's whole body was shaking now, her hand cold as ice in Ye Fengwu's grip.
He knew she was terrified—of him, of them, of what she'd just seen. She was a gentle soul. She'd never witnessed real violence before, let alone seven people condemned to death with a single command.
He tried to soften his expression, to smile a little.
"Hey," he said quietly, "it's all right. They had it coming. Karma's just collecting its debt."
That was the wrong thing to say.
Her control snapped. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but the sob broke through anyway, and tears spilled between her fingers.
She wasn't crying for Gold Leopard or his men. She was crying because she was terrified—of Jiang Hao, of Ye Fengwu, of this world that could erase lives so casually. Seven people. Gone with one word.
Ye Fengwu sighed and turned his glare on Jiang Hao.
"Couldn't you at least drag them out first before you start killing people?" he snapped. "Did you have to make a damn show of it?"
Jiang Hao froze for half a second, then managed a sheepish grin.
"Sorry, Sister-in-law," he said awkwardly. "I'll be more careful next time."
Next time…
The phrase hit Qin Qinghan like a slap. Her tears only flowed faster.
People said this man had taken nearly a hundred lives. Looking at him now, she wondered if that number was closer to a thousand.
She'd only known Ye Fengwu for a single day, barely understood who he really was—and yet she knew one thing with chilling certainty: this man sitting beside her was even more terrifying than the Dragon King himself.
Seeing her crying harder, Ye Fengwu shot Jiang Hao a deadly look.
"Get the hell out," he growled.
"Ha… yes, Brother," Jiang Hao said quickly, grinning like a scolded kid.
The sight of it left his men stunned. They'd seen Jiang Hao make crime lords kneel and beg for mercy, but never had they seen him act this submissive, this deferential.
And slowly, they began to understand—whoever this man was, the Dragon King feared him.
Jiang Hao didn't care about losing face. He should bow to this man. There was only one person in all of China he'd ever lower himself for—and he was standing right here.
Ye Fengwu's face darkened again. He lifted his eyes and said quietly,
"Little Hao, looks like your wings have gotten strong enough to forget what I taught you. Tell me—how much of your old code is left?"
At that, Jiang Hao's heart clenched. Guilt flashed in his eyes. He knew better than to explain; excuses only made things worse with Ye Fengwu.
So he said nothing.
Instead, he lifted his leg, placed it on the table… and raised the steel pipe.
Before anyone could react, he swung it down—hard.
BANG!
The sound made everyone flinch.
For a split second, it looked like he'd smashed his own leg. But when the dust settled, they saw that the pipe had stopped—right against a muscular arm.
Ye Fengwu's arm.
The pipe had bent at a forty-five-degree angle. Yet the skin beneath it didn't even bruise.
"Brother Wu…" Jiang Hao's voice trembled, full of shame.
Ye Fengwu took the bent pipe, flexed it once, and straightened it like it was made of clay. The room went silent.
He looked at Jiang Hao and said calmly,
"I'll cover for you this time. Next time, I'll handle it myself."
The meaning was clear. If another man like Gold Leopard ever worked under Jiang Hao again, Ye Fengwu would personally break his legs.
That had been the rule—set eight years ago.
Jiang Hao grinned like a chastised kid. "Understood, Brother Wu. Never again."
Then he stepped forward and hugged Ye Fengwu tightly. Ye Fengwu patted his back once—a quiet, wordless reunion after eight long years.
When they finally pulled apart, Jiang Hao turned to Qin Qinghan with a polite smile.
"Sister-in-law," he said, "my name's Jiang Hao. You can call me Hao or Little Hao. What happened today was my fault—I didn't keep my men in line. To make it up to you…"
He pulled a key fob from his pocket and held it out to her. The red prancing horse on the emblem gleamed under the lights.
"…this car is my apology."
Qin Qinghan stared at the Ferrari logo in disbelief—but she didn't reach for it. She couldn't. Her hands were still trembling. Her heart still hadn't stopped pounding.
She was still too deep in shock to move at all.