Chapter 37: Lin Yang Is Angry

Murong Yun’s expression changed instantly when she heard that Chen Ziling had a ninth-rank martial arts master in his corner. Panic flickered across her face.

“What should we do? Are you confident you can handle a ninth-rank master?”

Standing beside Lin Yang, she asked in a low voice.

“We’ll see.” Lin Yang replied, looking perfectly at ease.

Chen Ziling turned to an elderly man sitting quietly in the corner, sipping tea, and said, “Elder Shen, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you to deal with this young man.”

The old man drained his cup, set it down slowly, and rose to his feet, fixing Lin Yang with a steady gaze.

“So young, yet already so strong. Impressive. Who is your master?”

“You're not qualified to know my master’s name,” Lin Yang answered.

“In that case, I’ll kill you with my own hands today,” the old man declared. He spread his stance, his fists cracking sharply as he readied himself.

“Elder Shen’s Tongbei Fist has reached perfection. Lin, you’re as good as dead!” Chen Ziling sneered, eyes cold with murderous intent.

The old man’s footwork was lightning-fast, his attacks both cunning and precise. As a ninth-rank martial artist, he wielded strength equal to two tigers; every punch and palm strike carried the force of a thousand pounds. Yet Lin Yang responded with remarkable composure.

The old man unleashed a flurry of crisp, rapid strikes, but Lin Yang blocked and parried with effortless poise. Instead, as the fight dragged on, the old man grew increasingly alarmed—he realized Lin Yang’s fists were stronger than his own. With a single straight punch, Lin Yang sent him staggering back several steps.

“How do you possess such power?” the old man asked darkly.

“Old man, you’re just past your prime. Not enough strength left in those bones. At your age, still risking your life in fights—aren’t you afraid you’ll break something?” Lin Yang taunted, thoroughly enraging Shen Tong.

“You wretch! Prepare to die!” Shen Tong stomped his foot, shattering the floor, and launched himself forward with fierce momentum.

Lin Yang stood his ground, raised his fist, and chose to meet force with force.

In such a contest, it was all about whose strength was greater. Though a ninth-rank master boasted the power of two tigers, Lin Yang’s strength had surpassed that—his full might was equivalent to one ox and two tigers, more than enough to crush Shen Tong.

As expected, Lin Yang’s punch sent Shen Tong flying backward, smashing into the tea table. His right hand was broken.

“You… you are…” Shen Tong stared in shock, instantly realizing the young man before him was not merely a ninth-rank master, but a true Grandmaster.

But before he could finish his sentence, Lin Yang had already leapt in front of him and, with a swift kick, sent him crashing into the wall.

Shen Tong spat blood and collapsed, unconscious, his fate uncertain.

Chen Ziling could no longer maintain his composure. To deal with Lin Yang, he had gone to great lengths to invite a ninth-rank master to his side, thinking he could kill two birds with one stone. But now, both experts had fallen at Lin Yang’s hands.

Lin Yang himself remained completely unscathed.

Murong Yun let out a long sigh of relief; Lin Yang’s strength had far exceeded her expectations.

“Do you have any more experts? I haven’t had enough yet.” Lin Yang clapped his hands and looked at Chen Ziling with a smile.

Chen Ziling’s face was ashen, his lips twitching. “You’re a Grandmaster, aren’t you?”

“Correct.”

“I didn’t expect the Murong family to be so fortunate—to win over a Grandmaster to their side. I clearly miscalculated.” Chen Ziling knew there was no way he could keep Lin Yang and Murong Yun here tonight.

“Master Lin, I apologize for any offense earlier! Once again, I sincerely invite you to join our Hongxing Chamber of Commerce. I guarantee you’ll be treated as our honored guest. Money, women, status—whatever you desire, it can be yours,” Chen Ziling offered.

“Women? Are any of them as beautiful as her?” Lin Yang nodded toward Murong Yun.

“This…” Chen Ziling was momentarily speechless, then sneered, “Murong Yun, you’re really willing to pay any price to win over a Grandmaster, aren’t you?”

“I’m happy to—what’s it to you?” Murong Yun replied, walking over to Lin Yang and taking his arm.

Chen Ziling laughed bitterly in anger, giving Murong Yun a mocking thumbs-up. “Fine! Today’s contest—I’ve lost. You may leave.”

Lin Yang let out a cold laugh and approached Chen Ziling.

“What are you doing? I warn you, my father is Chen Tianhao, president of the Hongxing Chamber of Commerce, and the Black Tiger Gang stands behind us. If you lay a finger on me, my father will never let you go!” Chen Ziling stammered, retreating in panic.

Lin Yang ignored the threats, advancing step by step.

“What the hell are you all standing around for? Protect me!” Chen Ziling shouted.

Seven or eight burly men, his bodyguards, rushed forward, gritting their teeth. Lin Yang responded decisively, alternating powerful grappling techniques. Chen Ziling’s men fell with screams of agony—their arms, legs, or ribs broken.

“Watch out!” Murong Yun suddenly cried.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out.

Amid the chaos, Chen Ziling had drawn a pistol, attempting to ambush Lin Yang.

But Lin Yang was prepared; he grabbed a burly man and used him as a shield, blocking the bullet.

“So what if you’re a Grandmaster? I have a gun! No matter how good you are, can you outrun a bullet?” With the weapon in hand, Chen Ziling’s confidence surged.

Lin Yang tossed aside the corpse of the man who had been shot, hurling it at Chen Ziling.

Chen Ziling reacted quickly, dodging aside and firing several shots in succession.

Unleashing the full speed and power of a Grandmaster, Lin Yang evaded every bullet with ease.

Suddenly, Chen Ziling screamed as his gun dropped to the floor—a silver needle had pierced his wrist.

As he reached for the gun, Lin Yang was already upon him, seizing both his arms. With a crushing grip, he shattered Chen Ziling’s shoulders.

“Aaah!” Chen Ziling’s shrieks echoed through the hall, sweat streaming down his face; his arms were completely ruined.

Lin Yang spared his life, tossing him to the ground, then left the nightclub with Murong Yun.

He escorted Murong Yun to the gates of the Murong family estate. At the entrance, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Lin. You’ve saved my life tonight.”

“So you used me as a weapon to solve a big problem. You must be pleased with yourself,” Lin Yang replied coldly.

“I didn’t!” Murong Yun protested anxiously.

“There’s no need to explain. You’re very clever, I’ll grant you that. Inviting me out for a drink, going home to change, conveniently revealing your whereabouts—all to smoke out the traitor within the Murong family and use me to get rid of Chen Ziling. Your scheming is impressive.”

Lin Yang got out of the car and tossed the keys to her. “Here’s your car back. I’ll transfer the money for the apartment to you tomorrow.”

He was furious. After the betrayal by Qin Menong and her mother, he was especially sensitive to this kind of manipulation.

He had genuinely liked Murong Yun, but tonight had wiped away all his goodwill.

He detested being used. If she had discussed her plan with him in advance, he would have been willing to help. But instead, she’d made the decision alone and used him as a pawn. That made him furious.

“Mr. Lin, please let me explain! I truly didn’t mean to use you!” Murong Yun stopped him.

“Move aside.”

“Give me just one minute—please?” She gripped his arm earnestly.

“You have fifty-five seconds left,” Lin Yang replied coolly.