Chapter 8: Let’s Go, I’ll Take You Home

"Yo, you’re getting an attitude now?"

The scar-faced man sneered in disdain. "So what if I smashed a spirit tablet? Keep yapping and I’ll smash you too!"

Ning Chen’s eyes suddenly turned cold!

The next second, his palm shot out!

"Ah!"

With a scream, the scar-faced man didn’t even have time to react before he was sent flying, crashing heavily more than ten meters away!

His ribs shattered, piercing through muscle and skin—bloody and horrifying!

"Ahhh!"

"It hurts like hell!"

The scar-faced man rolled on the ground, his face twisted in agony, letting out bloodcurdling screams.

…

Seeing Ning Chen injure the scar-faced man with just a casual strike, the onlookers were stunned.

Was this even human?

Even the street thugs who were no strangers to bloodshed stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

The dozen or so gangsters instinctively backed away, their eyes filled with nothing but fear toward Ning Chen!

At this moment, the scar-faced man, drenched in cold sweat, looked at his men and forced out a breath.

"Damn it, what are you standing there for?!"

"Hurry up and kill this brat for me!"

He growled through gritted teeth, "I was just caught off guard just now, that’s all. There’s nothing to be afraid of—there are over ten of you!"

"Kill him!"

Spurred on by his words, the gangsters’ eyes grew fierce again.

"Beat him to death!"

Someone shouted, and in the next instant, the group charged forward, swinging their thick clubs.

Ning Chen stood there expressionless, body straight as a mountain.

"Just you lot?"

He gave a faint smile—then his figure vanished from where he stood.

A blur of afterimages flickered among the gangsters.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of fists hitting flesh rang out in rapid succession, mixed with the crisp crack of breaking bones.

Within mere breaths, the gangsters were sprawled across the ground, groaning in agony.

Some spat blood, others had broken limbs—it was as miserable as could be.

The scar-faced man stared in shock, momentarily forgetting his own pain, his mouth agape as if it could fit two eggs.

Was this guy even human?

Such terrifying strength…

In the blink of an eye, Ning Chen appeared before him again, face devoid of expression.

An icy, crushing aura surged toward him like a tidal wave!

The scar-faced man shuddered, a sudden warmth spreading in his crotch as a foul-smelling yellow puddle formed beneath him—he had wet himself in fear.

"I… I was wrong…"

He stammered, his voice trembling so badly he couldn’t form a complete sentence.

"Too late."

Ning Chen spat out the words coldly, then flicked his finger.

Crack!

The scar-faced man’s neck twisted into an unnatural angle—lifeless.

Ning Chen’s gaze swept toward the remaining thugs.

His eyes were tinged with blood, and the oppressive killing intent made it hard to breathe.

The thugs trembled, barely daring to breathe.

"Get lost."

Ning Chen’s voice was calm. "Or do you want to die too?"

They scrambled to their feet as if granted amnesty, supporting each other, ignoring their pain, and fleeing in panic.

…

Silence returned to the courtyard.

Ning Chen took out his phone, pondered for a moment, and dialed a string of numbers.

Beep, beep, beep!

The call connected.

"Who are you?"

The voice on the other end was cold, with a sharp edge to it.

Ning Chen spoke lightly. "Xiao Yong, it’s me."

At the sound of that voice, Xu Yong’s pupils contracted sharply, his whole body trembling.

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding like a war drum.

"N-Ning… King Ning? You’re not…"

Halfway through the sentence, Xu Yong didn’t dare continue.

Ning Chen chuckled. "What? Thought I was dead?"

"N-no, I wouldn’t dare. I’m just… too excited…"

Xu Yong’s voice shook. "It’s great… truly great that you’re alive…"

"I knew it—those sixteen knights of the Holy Church could never kill you."

Trying to calm himself, Xu Yong lowered his voice. "King Ning, where are you now?"

"Jiang City."

Ning Chen sighed. "I survived, but my injuries are severe. How’s the situation in the army?"

Hearing this, Xu Yong quickly scanned his surroundings and lowered his tone.

"I can’t say much right now. It’s not safe here—many people are watching me. This isn’t something I can discuss over the phone."

He paused, his voice turning grave. "Your survival must not be revealed."

"My family’s in Jiang City. Wait there, I’ll send someone to find you. Whatever you need, just give the order."

Ning Chen frowned slightly. It seemed Xu Yong’s situation hadn’t been easy either since his absence.

"One more thing."

Taking a deep breath, Ning Chen asked, "Three years ago—was it the work of the Elders’ Council?"

"Not certain yet. Besides me, Li Xiaoyao and Zhao Tianhu are under watch. Lin Mei, being from the Lin family in the Imperial Capital, has it a bit easier."

Xu Yong’s tone was serious. "The people behind this have been plotting for a long time—their power is anything but simple."

Ning Chen’s expression hardened.

Back then, as commander of the Ning King Army, he had swept across the battlefield, unstoppable!

Under his command were four guards: Dragon Guard Li Xiaoyao, Tiger Guard Zhao Tianhu, Phoenix Guard Lin Mei, and Soldier Guard Xu Yong—all in commanding positions.

For someone to force such leaders into a corner… they were indeed formidable enemies.

Half an hour after hanging up, several luxury cars stopped outside the courtyard.

A group of elite bodyguards escorted an elderly man in fine clothes to the gate.

It was Xu Deming, head of the Xu family in Jiang City—and Xu Yong’s father.

"Step aside, I’ll knock myself."

Xu Deming waved the guards back, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

Soon, the door opened.

A young man stood before him—refined smile, elegant bearing, a presence beyond the ordinary.

Xu Deming froze for a moment.

He had heard Xu Yong sing King Ning’s praises countless times—how he was like a god descended, unmatched in his era!

In his imagination, such a man would be tall, broad-shouldered, and awe-inspiring.

But the contrast was startling.

Still, he had to admit—though young, Ning Chen exuded an innate kingly aura, with eyes deep and piercing, radiating an invisible pressure.

"King Ning, I am Xu Yong’s father, Xu Deming."

He bowed slightly. "Xu Yong told me you may call upon the Xu family for anything you need—we will help however we can."

Ning Chen smiled. "You’re too polite, Elder Xu. You are Xiao Yong’s father—technically, I’m the junior here."

He made to bow in return.

"Please, don’t!"

Xu Deming’s heart skipped a beat—how could he let King Ning bow to him? He quickly stepped aside.

Seeing this, Ning Chen gave a helpless smile.

"Elder Xu, please help me investigate how Ning Wei died."

His tone carried a trace of frost. "The sooner, the better."

"Of course." Xu Deming nodded immediately.

"And one more thing…"

Before Ning Chen could finish, a surge of blood roiled in his chest.

He coughed lightly—his palm stained crimson.

"King Ning, are you alright?"

Xu Deming’s eyes widened with concern.

"It’s nothing."

Ning Chen waved it off. "I just reopened an old wound from fighting earlier."

"Still, I’ll need some rare medicinal herbs for treatment. Do you have the means to acquire them?"

"Certainly," Xu Deming said respectfully. "The Xu family trades in medicinal herbs. Tomorrow we’re hosting a herb fair—if there’s anything you need, you can find it there."

From his coat, he produced a gold-embossed badge bearing the Xu family crest, offering it with both hands.

"This is the Xu family’s exclusive badge."

He spoke solemnly. "Given your need for secrecy, if you see any herbs you want, just present this badge—the purchase will be recorded under the Xu family’s name."

"I’ll have them delivered to you afterward."

Ning Chen nodded. "That’s ideal. Thank you, Elder Xu."

With his identity sensitive, concealing his name in such dealings was indeed a good solution.

After sending Xu Deming off, Ning Chen returned to the quiet courtyard.

Gazing at the desolate grounds, he sighed.

This house had been left by Ning Wei. No one lived here—it was time to tidy it up.

"Ning Chen!"

A clear female voice rang out from behind.

Turning, Ning Chen saw Xiao Qingcheng walking toward him gracefully.

"Why are you here?"

He frowned slightly.

Xiao Qingcheng lifted her delicate face, smiling faintly. "You’re my husband—I can’t let you live here alone, can I?"

"Come on, let’s go home."