Chapter Sixty-Three: The Peril of Women

Since the serpent had chosen death of his own accord, so be it; his demise elicited no sympathy from Xiao Cheng. This man had targeted him time and again. The only reason he had been shown any mercy was out of consideration for Zhuo Qinglian.

Seeing Xiao Cheng unexpectedly spare the serpent, Yan Hongde’s expression shifted. If the serpent could be pardoned, perhaps he, too, might be granted clemency.

“Young Master, please spare me as well! I failed to recognize your greatness—please, be magnanimous!” Yan Hongde knelt and kowtowed, his pleas a pitiful display. The once-feared underworld leader was now nothing more than a groveling worm.

Given the choice, who would want to make his wife a widow? Who is not afraid of death?

Xiao Cheng waved his hand, silencing Yan Hongde. The man had mobilized mercenaries against Zhuo Qinglian—had Xiao Cheng not intervened today, she would surely have come to harm. How could Xiao Cheng possibly let such a man live?

He stretched out his hand and struck Yan Hongde’s head with force. There was a crisp crack; Yan Hongde's eyes rolled back, blood trickled from every orifice, and he collapsed in silence. That palm, infused with true energy, had shattered his mind.

Having killed Yan Hongde, Xiao Cheng didn’t so much as blink. In his eyes, Yan Hongde was no more than a mosquito—buzzing about one’s head, liable to bite at any moment, and thus deserving to be swatted dead.

Yan Hongde lay twitching on the ground, then lay still. The men of the Hongde Hall watched in terror from afar, none daring to utter a sound, each fearing they might be next.

“Now, do you have anything left to say?” Xiao Cheng fixed his gaze on the leader of the Guanyu mercenaries.

Captain Wang forced a wry smile, knowing escape was impossible. They had simply provoked the wrong man. Yet he couldn’t help but ask, “I just want to know, Young Master Xiao—how did you discover us? Our plan was flawless, there was no way anyone could have known.”

“I have no reason to tell you,” Xiao Cheng replied calmly, “but I will grant you a dignified death.” How had he discovered them? Naturally, it was thanks to his peak innate spiritual sense—a trump card he would not reveal, not with so many witnesses present, even if the man was about to die.

“Li Zirui!”

“Here!”

“Execute these mercenaries by firing squad, then deliver their corpses back to Guanyu Security. As for the others, leave them.” Xiao Cheng coldly pronounced the mercenaries’ fate.

The return of the corpses was a warning—a show of force. If these mercenaries disappeared during an operation against Zhuo Qinglian, Guanyu Security would surely come after her again. By sending the bodies back, he was issuing a stark warning: do not meddle further. Zhuo Qinglian was his woman; her safety was paramount.

At Xiao Cheng’s words, Captain Wang felt a measure of relief. For a mercenary, being shot was perhaps the most honorable death—at least it preserved a shred of dignity.

A few gunshots rang out, and the remaining mercenaries, Captain Wang among them, fell silently, bullets through their brows.

With that, all was settled.

...

A helicopter descended slowly from above, its downdraft whipping up dust and debris. Once it landed, Ning Jingzhe stepped out.

Today, Ning Jingzhe wore a tailored black leather jacket that accentuated her stunning figure. Her curvaceous 36E bust strained against the fabric, threatening to burst free; even the zipper at her chest looked fit to snap at any moment.

Below a waspish waist, her hips—once praised by her grandmother as the very image of fertility—swayed with each step. Her long, slender legs ended in chunky military boots. Wherever she stood, she was like a bloodthirsty javelin, exuding a powerful aura. In any crowd, she was always the most striking presence.

She walked toward Xiao Cheng, neither hurried nor slow, every step landing like a drumbeat on the hearts of those around her.

Ning Jingzhe was beautiful, but hers was not the breathtaking loveliness of Fang Yujia, nor the serene charm of Zhuo Qinglian.

Her beauty was proud—rounded cheeks, sharp eyes, a presence that pressed on others inexplicably. She looked at everyone like a queen surveying her subjects, her bearing always lofty. At nearly 1.9 meters tall, she was used to looking down on others—literally and figuratively.

“I’ve heard you’ve gotten yourself into trouble lately,” she said coldly to Xiao Cheng. “The old master has been wanting to catch you. No idea where you’ve been hiding, but I suggest you stay away for now.”

Ning Jingzhe had always harbored a strong dislike for her unruly brother-in-law. A fiercely independent woman, she despised men who treated women as playthings—yet Xiao Cheng was her brother-in-law, so her distaste was always mingled with reluctant concern.

Seeing her familiar face and manner, Xiao Cheng couldn’t help but smile. To see her today was a rare pleasure—she was always flying off somewhere, seldom in Shanghai, and he only saw her a handful of times each year.

In his previous life, she had been the first sister-in-law to look after him. Though she disliked him, she’d treated him well—just a bit too violent at times.

Yet being called “boy” by her now felt odd. In truth, he was a year older than Ning Jingzhe; she and Zhuo Qinglian were about the same age. Now, in his eyes, she seemed more like a little sister—a strange feeling, but undeniable.

He heard the protective undertone in her words. The “trouble” she mentioned was, of course, the so-called “joint raid” the old master kept talking about. Others might not know the truth, but Ning Jingzhe surely did—she’d been on the phone with Fang Yujia when he was right there listening.

Even Fang Yujia herself didn’t know about the supposed raid—it was clearly fabricated. If Ning Jingzhe thought it real, she’d be twisting his ear and “teaching him a lesson,” not speaking so mildly.

“When did you come back, Sister Jingzhe? I heard you were still leading a mission in Africa just days ago.”

“Fourth Uncle died recently—I returned for that case. Once it’s resolved, I’ll head back. While you’re out there, stay safe. You’re the Xiao family’s only hope—don’t let anything happen to you. And don’t keep company with shady types!”

She deliberately emphasized the word “playing,” and when she spoke of “shady types,” she shot a glance at Zhuo Qinglian—making it clear exactly whom she meant.

In truth, Ning Jingzhe had always disapproved of Zhuo Qinglian. Others might not know, but as the head of Bloodshade Security, she was privy to everything between Xiao Cheng and Zhuo Qinglian. His first loss of cultivation was because of Zhuo Qinglian. If not for her, Xiao Cheng might have become a Xiao family prodigy. In the end, it was this bewitching woman who had ruined his life.

Xiao Cheng knew Ning Jingzhe’s longstanding dislike for Zhuo Qinglian. Still, that incident wasn’t really Zhuo Qinglian’s fault—she hadn’t known that sleeping with him would break his cultivation, and she’d regretted it ever since, always trying to make amends.

Yet at this moment, Xiao Cheng could say nothing. One woman had once died shielding him; the other had been at his side for years. Taking sides would only bring pain.

Zhuo Qinglian, fiery by nature, was incensed at being called “shady.” What made her so questionable? It was as if Ning Jingzhe thought her some low-born harlot—just because her background couldn’t compare to a military family like the Nings.

“Ning Jingzhe, I respect you as Xiao Cheng’s sister-in-law. Sure, your family background is better than mine, but in what other way are you superior? If you’ve something to say, say it straight! How am I ‘shady’? You’re his sister-in-law, not his mother—he likes being with me, and that’s none of your business!”

Ning Jingzhe had to admit Zhuo Qinglian spoke the truth. In terms of looks, they were equals; in terms of skill, she might not even be a match. As for her position as sister-in-law, it truly wasn’t her place to interfere. For a moment, she had no reply—until she remembered one area in which she clearly surpassed Zhuo Qinglian.

She strode up to Zhuo Qinglian, and to everyone’s surprise, thrust out her chest. Her ample bosom seemed to defy gravity, the zipper threatening to give way, as she cast a contemptuous glance at Zhuo Qinglian’s modest figure.

The meaning was unmistakable: My chest is bigger than yours.

Even Xiao Cheng, usually so composed, nearly bit his tongue at the sight. He’d never imagined his sister-in-law could be so fierce, but she certainly had the assets—her proud curves could best nearly any woman, not only full and perky but perfectly shaped and resilient.

Zhuo Qinglian glanced at Ning Jingzhe’s chest, then at her own, gritting her teeth. So what if her chest was bigger? She simply never wore a bra—if she did... well, admittedly, it was still a little smaller. Just a little.

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[Three chapters today to make up for yesterday’s missed update—thank you all for your support!!!]