C3 Kneeling on the Ground and Apologizing

Mengna's composure stemmed from the fact that Seventh Master held shares in the beauty salon—a gift from her. With Seventh Master's stake, the salon was effectively shielded by his protection.

Upon Seventh Master's entrance, Ye Xiaofeng noticed the hooligans' halted advance, while a previously smug Sunn Rongbai wore a look of astonishment.

"What's all this about? Knives and guns, really?" Seventh Master inquired with unflappable ease.

The hooligans exchanged wary glances, none daring to utter a word.

Mengna visibly relaxed, but Ye Xiaofeng's attention remained fixed on Rongbai.

Ye Xiaofeng suspected Rongbai had reinforcements, and as if on cue, a Hummer pulled up outside the salon. A burly, menacing man emerged and strode into the hall.

"Mr. Hu," the hooligans greeted him with deference.

The man approached Rongbai, scanned the room, and then his gaze landed on Ye Xiaofeng, who sensed the imminent threat.

"What's got you so riled up, Dahu?" Seventh Master asked, his brow furrowing briefly before he attempted to ingratiate himself.

"Cut the crap, old man. This doesn't concern you. Beat it," Dahu snapped with impatience.

Seventh Master cast a troubled glance at Mengna, then back at Dahu.

"Dahu, do me a favor. Whatever the misunderstanding is today, let's not resort to violence, okay?" Seventh Master's voice softened considerably. Dahu, as Lang Guangxi's trusted enforcer in the Black Tortoise Region, was not someone Seventh Master could afford to cross.

Rongbai shot a triumphant look at Ye Xiaofeng and murmured into Dahu's ear.

Dahu's gaze shifted back to Ye Xiaofeng, his face twisting into a sneer.

"Old man, I'll do you this favor today. Have him kneel and apologize to my brother, and I'll let it slide," Dahu demanded, pointing at Ye Xiaofeng with icy resolve.

Ye Xiaofeng's brows knitted tightly together as he cast a cold, piercing stare at Dahu and Sunn Rongbai.

Dung Mengna caught the Seventh Master's eye and quickly shook her head in refusal, her gesture urgent.

Ye Xiaofeng felt a surge of warmth in his heart at Dung Mengna's response.

"This... Dahu," the Seventh Master stammered, clearly troubled.

With a sharp "Pa!" Dahu's hand struck Seventh Master's face.

Seventh Master crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Dung Mengna glared at Dahu, fury in her eyes, as she moved to help Seventh Master to his feet.

Dahu's face twisted into an expression of cold indifference as he launched a kick at Dung Mengna's slender frame.

As his right foot was about to crash into Dung Mengna, her face contorted with panic. But in that critical moment, his foot was stopped, leaving Dahu with a tingling sensation in his leg.

Dahu glowered at Ye Xiaofeng, the one who had intervened. Clenching his right fist, he hurled it like a sledgehammer towards Ye Xiaofeng's cheek.

Ye Xiaofeng stood his ground against Dahu's vicious punch. With his right fist clenched, he struck out swiftly at Dahu's incoming blow. As he did, the First Grade Strength Gene within him activated, his mighty fist cutting through the air with the force of a tiger's roar, colliding with Dahu's fist.

The Level-1 Strength Gene had transformed Ye Xiaofeng's body after his practice of the Ghost Valley Immortal Cultivating Secret Technique. Now, with the Level-1 Strength Gene activated, his power far exceeded that of an ordinary man.

"Xiaofeng, run!" Dung Mengna gasped, her voice laced with alarm.

Seventh Master's cloudy eyes shifted to Ye Xiaofeng, and he murmured a proverb about the futility of resistance.

"Mr. Hu is a top ten contender in Jinling City's underground boxing scene. This kid is just asking for trouble!"

"Mr. Hu's punch is sure to shatter his arm bones. He's got some nerve, taking on Mr. Hu. He's truly seeking his own demise."

The two thugs sneered, convinced that Ye Xiaofeng was on a suicide mission.

The other thugs had their eyes fixed on Mengna, their minds racing with the thought that once Mr. Hu took care of Ye Xiaofeng, they might get a chance to have their way with the beauty.

"Snap."

Ye Xiaofeng's and Dahu's fists met in a violent clash, contorting Dahu's rage-filled face into an expression of agony. He let out an involuntary howl of pain and stumbled backward six or seven steps.

Dahu's blood, a vivid crimson, dripped from his fingers to the ground. His right wrist was a gruesome sight, with bone fragments peeking through the skin. Ye Xiaofeng remained still, his demeanor unflappable as he watched Dahu with an icy gaze.

The twelve thugs' eyes were wide with shock, hardly able to process the scene unfolding before them.