Chapter 123: Help!

Long Mingyang and Duan Sheng glanced around, but there was no one in sight.

Yang Meng toyed with the small knife in his hand, looking in one direction. “Did I invite you two out here?”

No sooner had he spoken than applause suddenly rang out from behind a folding screen. “How did you know I was here?”

A man in his forties, with a simple crew cut, emerged from behind the screen. He looked utterly ordinary—one of those faces easily lost in a crowd.

Yang Meng, however, pointed toward the window. “You’d better let the person outside come in as well. This building is tall and windy; don’t accidentally fall. I know breaking a tempered glass panel is easy for you, but best not to—the windows here are quite expensive.”

“Outside?” Duan Sheng was momentarily stunned, then picked up a remote on the table and opened the window. A figure leapt inside.

This newcomer was much younger, slender and small, almost monkey-like in appearance.

Upon entering, the two bowed to Yun He. “Uncle Master, pleased to meet you.”

Yun He smiled wryly as he explained to Long Mingyang and the others, “They’re all disciples of my senior brother, but he has so many that even I can’t keep track. Among them, I’m the most disappointing—my cultivation is weak, so I only dabble in trivial matters. I’m considered a disgrace to the sect.”

Yang Meng tossed the knife aside. “Enough. Since you’re all family, this doesn’t concern me anymore. Damn it, I’m seriously injured—muscle and bone will take a hundred days to heal. Whether I recover before the new year is uncertain. Don’t bother me for now.”

Yidi’s immortal wine was good for pain relief, but for injuries like his, it merely accelerated bone healing. Given Yang Meng’s condition, rest was inevitable.

As Yang Meng prepared to leave, Long Mingyang and the others remained silent, but the older newcomer shouted at him, “You can’t leave until this matter is investigated!”

Yang Meng strode toward the elevator without turning back. “I have other things to do. I’m not sticking around for tea. You might as well pretend you never saw me.”

Just as he continued walking, the smaller man lunged at Yang Meng, delivering a swift chop toward the back of his neck. The man’s speed was extraordinary—the gust from his movement made Long Mingyang and the others instinctively close their eyes.

Yet Yang Meng seemed to have eyes at the back of his head. With a backward reach of his right hand, he grabbed the attacker’s neck and lifted him off the ground.

“Let him go!” the older man shouted, startled. But he dared not act rashly; his junior brother’s life was in Yang Meng’s hands.

“I’m badly injured today and not in a good mood. I didn’t hold back, so you’d better not stop me!” Yang Meng said, then tossed the small man aside. The man gasped for breath on landing, convinced he would die in that split second.

No one dared block Yang Meng now. He took the elevator and left.

“Uncle Master…” the older man asked Yun He, “Did he say he was badly hurt?”

Yun He nodded. “Severely injured. At least a dozen bones broken on his body. I don’t know how he’s holding up.”

“Ugh,” the two nephews exhaled sharply. “Who defeated him? There’s no sign of a life-or-death battle here.”

Yun He raised one finger. “His opponent used just one move to defeat him.”

“One move?” Both widened their eyes.

Yun He nodded. “Maybe it wasn’t even a move—just an ordinary kick.”

“Uncle Master, what kind of person is that?” the smaller man asked urgently.

“A young man, seemingly no older than you, with hair covering half his face.”

The older and smaller man exchanged glances and said simultaneously, “He’s back?”

Yun He looked puzzled. “Who are you talking about?”

The older man bowed. “Uncle Master, apologies. This involves too many matters, so I can’t explain in detail. Seventeen, contact the local police chief and have him notify the confidential department to handle this case and seal off information.”

“Understood, Brother Nine,” the smaller man replied, pulling out an old-fashioned phone to make the call.

“Wait!” Brother Nine stopped him. “Call Third Brother as well. Tell him a sorcerer has come here to cause trouble!” He gestured toward the headless sorcerer’s corpse. “Master said if a black-clad sorcerer appears, kill a hundred of him!”

Seventeen smiled. “Brother Nine, I know what to do!”

He then went off to make the call.

Brother Nine watched him dial and said to Yun He, “Uncle Master, for secrecy and safety, we should detain everyone for a time. But since you’re my uncle and the other two are your friends, I cannot do that. We’ve taken over this matter, so it no longer concerns you. I hope you act as if nothing happened today and keep this confidential. I trust you’re all smart enough to handle it.”

Though addressed to Long Mingyang and Duan Sheng, this was also a warning to Yun He.

After finishing the call, Seventeen waved to Brother Nine, signaling completion.

Brother Nine then said, “Investigate that guy’s background thoroughly.”

Yun He pointed at Long Mingyang. “You want to investigate Yang Meng? Just ask Chairman Long directly.”

Brother Nine shook his head. “Uncle Master, trust me, there’s nothing he can hide. This isn’t something you can handle.”

Yun He shrugged—another intimidation tactic toward Long Mingyang and Duan Sheng, and himself.

Long Mingyang, however, showed no anxiety. After all these years, what hardships hadn’t he faced?

He thought for a moment, then said to Duan Sheng, “Old Duan, contact Bowen. Yang is injured and probably won’t seek treatment himself. Have Bowen find a good doctor to check him out… though knowing Yang’s temper, he probably won’t accept. How about this: I’ll contact Long Teng; he’s always pestering Yang to teach him kung fu. Have him invite Yang to his gym where doctors can treat him.”

Duan Sheng nodded. “Alright, I’ll contact Bowen.”

“No rush. Since Yang left in a hurry despite his injuries, he must have serious business. Just call Bowen tomorrow,” Long Mingyang said.

Duan Sheng nodded and glanced at the corpses scattered on the floor, sucking in a breath. Yang Meng said they wouldn’t panic after seeing this? Impossible! He barely kept himself from vomiting—the dizziness in his calf was still there. Yet Yang Meng seemed genuinely unshaken, as if accustomed to life and death.

When Long Mingyang first told him about Yang Meng, Duan Sheng thought it was exaggeration. But now, it was clear the young man was truly mysterious.

Such a youth was worth cultivating a closer relationship with—his future was boundless.

Meanwhile, the young man they saw as promising was grimacing in pain atop a motorcycle.

Why? Because it hurt.

“Mr. Yang, are you okay?” Lu Liling asked anxiously.

Yang Meng pointed to his face. “Do I look okay? Look at this expression of agony! Damn it! Don’t bother me with these troubles anymore! Every time it’s like this, I feel like I don’t have enough lives! Did you see that guy just now? How powerful he is—one strike and I was finished! And that wasn’t even his full strength! Now I understand what they mean by there’s always someone stronger. From now on, I’m never getting involved again!”

Lu Liling looked apologetic. “Mr. Yang, it’s my fault. I caused all this trouble.”

Seeing her expression, Yang Meng softened. “Forget it. I wanted to meddle. If I didn’t, no amount of nagging would change it. Those black-clad sorcerers are despicable, running amok here—I can’t let them get away. But who was that young man? Why did he kill them? Didn’t you notice? None of the souls of those who died today, including He Yongye and others, were seen! They went to the afterlife so fast? That’s unlikely. Forget it, why am I telling you this? You wouldn’t understand anyway. Let’s go—quickly back to the hotel to find your husband and settle this.”

Lu Liling nodded eagerly.

Yang Meng started the motorcycle but didn’t hurry. Lighting a cigarette, he said, “Lu Liling, I brought your child’s soul back, but your own time is coming. After this is over, you’ll head to the afterlife. And because you stayed in the living world too long, you’ll face punishment—no joke—you might end up in the boiling oil hell. But since your child was detained here among the living, he should be cared for there. Be prepared.”

Lu Liling smiled. “I don’t care what happens to me, as long as my Miaomiao is well. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Yang.”

Yang Meng shook his head silently—love always flows downward.

“By the way, once you go down, you’ll lose all memories of this life. You won’t even know your daughter is in the living world,” Yang Meng added.

Lu Liling’s expression dimmed slightly but she nodded. “That’s what parents do—just want their children to be safe.”

“All right. Since you’ve decided, let’s go.” Yang Meng revved the motorcycle toward the hotel where Zhang Quanbiao was staying.

In the cold early morning, the streets of Handong City were deserted. Yang Meng considered taking a shortcut to get to the hotel sooner.

The shortcut was the Handong Sports Center—a park filled with fitness equipment and sports facilities, a popular spot for morning exercises.

Not long after entering, Yang Meng heard a heart-wrenching scream—

“Help!”

[Author’s note: More updates coming after a short break. Old Yang is heading to the hospital; his daughter has a high fever.]