Chapter Thirteen: Husband and Wife

Lin Feng, carrying the Kunwu sword, walked slowly out of Phoenix Street.

He hadn’t gone far when footsteps echoed behind him, a thread of murderous intent trailing close. Sensing the killing intent, Lin Feng showed no trace of panic; instead, a cold smile curled at the corner of his lips.

He turned into an alley adjacent to Phoenix Street.

“Wait up, kid! You took something you shouldn’t have, you know that?” A rough voice rang out behind him. Lin Feng turned calmly, and saw more than a dozen burly men blocking the alley’s entrance, steel rods and machetes in their hands.

The leader wore a white vest, his muscular, sinewy chest and abdomen forming a perfect inverted triangle, rivaling that of a bodybuilder. Scars crisscrossed his flesh, lending him an air of ruthless ferocity. Clearly, he was no stranger to brutal fights.

“I’m Scar Liu,” the man spat, brandishing his machete, gazing down at Lin Feng with disdain. “Did you take something you shouldn’t from Phoenix Street? I advise you to hand it over and save yourself some pain. Otherwise, I’ll cripple your limbs and send you crawling to the hospital!”

Lin Feng stood sideways, his frame slender, pale-skinned—a scholar who looked as if he couldn’t hurt a fly. From appearances alone, Scar Liu and Lin Feng were worlds apart, utterly mismatched.

“Why aren’t you kneeling and admitting your mistake, kid? Leave what’s not yours, and maybe I’ll be merciful. Otherwise, you’re headed straight for the morgue tonight!”

“Oh? Then should I thank you?” Lin Feng replied with a cold smile.

“Damn you and your mouthy nonsense. I’ll cripple you right now!” Scar Liu’s patience snapped. He charged forward like a bulldozer, machete raised high, slashing down toward Lin Feng’s chest.

The blade sliced the air, closing in on Lin Feng in a flash—less than five centimeters away.

Lin Feng moved.

His toes pressed the ground, his figure ghostlike as he darted forward, right hand snapping out to seize Scar Liu’s wrist. With a forceful grip, a sharp crack sounded—he broke Scar Liu’s wrist bones. Twisting, Lin Feng used the Eighteen Throws technique to slam Scar Liu’s two-hundred-pound body onto the ground.

“Ah—my hand!” Scar Liu’s world spun; the next moment, he lay at Lin Feng’s feet, writhing in agony, terror etched across his face.

“Damn it! We ran into a tough one!” Lin Feng calmly raised his foot and booted Scar Liu a dozen meters away, flattening several underlings. Then, with swift efficiency, Lin Feng incapacitated the entire gang.

“Mr. Lin, are you all right?” Just as Lin Feng finished dealing with Scar Liu’s group, Qi Heng, Tang Heniang’s personal bodyguard, appeared.

Ever since Tang Heniang ordered him to investigate Lin Feng, Qi Heng had secretly followed him, digging into his background. Lin Feng had noticed, but since Qi Heng bore no malice, he let it slide.

Now, it was convenient; some matters were easier handled by others.

“You’re just in time. Deal with these men. Also, Liu Rengui from Phoenix Street is the mastermind—I don’t want to see him again. Send my regards to the Tang family head.”

“This… yes, Mr. Lin, have a good evening.” Qi Heng bowed respectfully, seeing Lin Feng off. Staring at the carnage—dozens of thugs with broken arms and legs—he broke into a cold sweat.

“Scar Liu is infamous in Binhai City’s underworld—a madman with seven or eight murders to his name, once killed or maimed five people in a gang fight. Absolutely ruthless! With his underlings, eighteen men in total!”

Qi Heng swallowed hard, muttering to himself, “This Master Lin is a dangerous man.”

…

That night, Phoenix Street, Half-Moon Pavilion.

“What did you say? Scar Liu’s entire group has been arrested? Impossible! Cousin, don’t lie to me!”

“How could I lie? I’ll warn you one last time: if you’re involved with Scar Liu, leave Binhai City at once. The authorities are cracking down—everyone will be swept up!”

“What…” Liu Rengui trembled, nearly losing control of his bladder.

For years, Liu Rengui and Scar Liu had worked together—one selling antiques to unsuspecting buyers, the other robbing them. Their methods were secretive, their partnership undisturbed—until today, when disaster struck.

Scar Liu’s group was wiped out.

“Could it be that kid from earlier?” The thought sent a chill up Liu Rengui’s spine. He began hurriedly packing, preparing to flee Binhai City.

But alas, he was too late.

The next moment, Qi Heng burst through his door.

Soon, Liu Rengui’s screams echoed through the Half-Moon Pavilion, lingering for a long time.

…

Less than half an hour after leaving Phoenix Street, Lin Feng returned home to Shuiyue Residence.

Only his father- and mother-in-law were in the living room; the dining table held nothing but cold leftovers, clearly no dinner had been saved for Lin Feng.

He didn’t mind. Calmly, he said, “I’m back,” and prepared to head to his room.

Unexpectedly, his mother-in-law erupted in fury, pointing at him and shouting insults.

“So you know to come home? Do you see what time it is? And if you’re useless, stop pretending outside. People need dignity, but you’re shameless—and my Qianqian still wants her reputation! Zheng Wu is worth tens of millions—what’s wrong with him buying his girlfriend a million-yuan bracelet? You, on the other hand, jealous and competitive—do you have that kind of capital? You can’t even compare to Qianqian’s college senior! If not for him, we wouldn’t even have a gift for the seventieth birthday!”

Clearly, she’d heard about the incident at Datang Mall from Yao Qianqian. But Yao Qianqian had left early, unaware of what happened afterward, and Tang family’s stance. She assumed Lin Feng was simply jealous, trying to show off.

College senior? Lin Feng raised an eyebrow, but didn’t bother arguing. He replied lightly, “I’ve already prepared the birthday gift; it will be delivered to the banquet. If there’s nothing else, I’ll go to my room now.”

“You—what kind of attitude is that? Lin Feng, I see your wings are hardening! Am I not allowed to criticize you now? Why don’t you talk about your embarrassing antics outside? Only brave at home, I’ll see what you’re up to!”

His mother-in-law shot to her feet, sleeves rolled up, face flushed and neck bulging with rage.

“Oh, enough! Qianqian already bought the gift, didn’t she? Young people care about face—it’s normal. Let’s just leave it at that.” His father-in-law waved his hand, urging Lin Feng to leave, and began soothing his wife.

“If it weren’t for Qianqian, I’d beat this coward to death!” she continued, her gaze toward Lin Feng full of undisguised disgust.

Lin Feng frowned slightly.

After all, reborn in this life, he was no longer the man he once was. In the previous life, it was his mother-in-law’s constant instigation that led to his divorce from Yao Qianqian and being thrown out of the house. The marital home at Shuiyue Residence was seized by her; he became homeless.

This time, Lin Feng never regarded this shrew as his mother-in-law. He felt only coldness and contempt.

Unperturbed, Lin Feng returned silently to the master bedroom.

But as he opened the door, Yao Qianqian threw a large bundle of bedding and clothes at him, saying coldly, “From today on, Lin Feng, you’ll sleep in the study. Sharing a room with you only makes me sick.”