C12 A Night of Conflict!

Faang Ming, still in Autumnhold, continued to tend to his roses, blissfully unaware that both the underworld and law enforcement had begun to investigate him.

"The roses we planted are going to be in full bloom in just a month or two. Isn't that wonderful?" Chu Ning'er cheerfully said as she handed Faang Ming a cup of water.

"Absolutely! We just have to wait for Lin Yuhan to come pick them up. Once we make some money, I'll buy a big house for you and Aunt Lee to live in, okay?" Faang Ming replied with a smile.

"You still have a bit of a conscience, remembering Aunt Lee," teased Ning'er playfully.

"Growing up without parents, Aunt Lee was the only one in Autumnhold who really looked after me. Plus, her sons are anything but dutiful. I won't forget the people who've been kind to me once I have the means," Faang Ming declared earnestly.

"You really know how to show gratitude," Ning'er said with a chuckle, spitting out a stone.

"Why does that sound so awkward to me? Hehe! Are you asking for another punishment?" Faang Ming, initially taken aback, then chuckled and wrapped his arms around Ning'er.

"Ah! What are you doing? It's the middle of the day," exclaimed Ning'er in surprise.

"If I don't teach you a lesson for the way you tease me, who knows what you'll say next?" Faang Ming said, laughing as he caught Ning'er's hands, his right hand mischievously slipping under her clothes.

"Alright, alright! I admit it's my fault. Please, let me off the hook!" Ning'er pleaded, overcome by Faang Ming's strong grip.

"Now you ask for mercy? Too late for that!" Faang Ming laughed as he covered her mouth with his, greedily savoring the taste of her lips while his hands began to explore her curves.

In that moment, Ning'er's senses started to blur, her breathing quickened, and she felt Faang Ming's hand boldly making its way into her underwear, leaving her feeling defenseless.

Ning'er's vulnerable state only intensified Faang Ming's desire. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

As Faang Ming's body pressed against hers, Ning'er buried her head in his chest, seeking refuge.

But just as Faang Ming was about to consummate their passion, Ning'er abruptly leapt from the bed.

"What happened?" Ning'er asked, quickly straightening her clothes as she saw Faang Ming's alarmed expression.

"Shh!" Faang Ming gestured for silence, signaling her to stay hidden in the room.

Though confused, Ning'er trusted Faang Ming and stayed put as instructed.

Meanwhile, Faang Ming turned off all the lights, cracked the door open, then locked it behind him. He stealthily took cover behind the living room sofa, calmed his breathing, and listened intently to the sounds outside.

Enhanced by the spiritual energy-infused water he'd consumed, Faang Ming's senses were sharper than most. During his intimate moment with Ning'er, he'd detected voices outside. He estimated at least five intruders.

As Faang Ming held his breath, the door was jimmied open with a click.

Faang Ming had already positioned himself strategically by the door. As the intruders entered, he struck swiftly, his palm landing a silent blow to the back of one's head.

"Trouble! They've found us!"

A shout erupted from outside the courtyard, followed by the sound of disordered footsteps as several people barged into the house. The room was engulfed in darkness due to Faang Ming having turned off all the lights, prompting him to scramble for the switch to illuminate the space.

In the ensuing chaos, Faang Ming could hear the sounds of people stumbling into furniture, cursing as they collided with tables and the coffee table. Having swiftly dealt with the first intruder, he rolled to safety behind the sofa. Using the commotion as his guide, he leapt up and, trusting his instincts, threw a punch at a shadowy figure.

"Ouch! My head! It's killing me!" The figure collapsed with a thud, clutching his head and howling in pain.

Faang Ming's actions had clearly drawn the attention of the others. In the pitch-black room, they swung their weapons blindly in his direction, trying to hit him based on sound alone.

A voice cursed loudly amidst the noise, "Dammit, watch what you're doing! Who are you hitting?"

"It's pitch-black in here, I'm not an owl, for crying out loud!"

Seizing the moment of confusion, Faang Ming lunged forward, grabbed a man by the hair, and with a swift motion, sent him tumbling to the ground, disoriented and weightless.

As he sidestepped, avoiding the wild swings of an iron rod, Faang Ming grabbed another assailant's arm with his left hand and delivered a crushing blow with his right.

A sickening "crack" echoed as bones shattered.

"Ah! My hand... My arm's broken!"

The last attacker, finally pinpointing Faang Ming, swung a gleaming machete his way, only to have his midsection kicked, sending him flying.

Meanwhile, Chu Ning'er remained hidden inside, hearing the tumult but resisting the urge to emerge. She knew her presence would only hinder Faang Ming, adding to his troubles.

Suddenly, a click pierced the darkness, and the room flooded with light. Faang Ming dusted off his hands and settled onto the sofa, surveying the groaning figures strewn across the floor.

Chu Ning'er burst from her hiding spot as the living room lit up. She surveyed the disarray and the injured men, then quickly located Faang Ming.

"Faang Ming! What happened here?"

She rushed to his side, her voice laced with urgency.

"It's obvious, isn't it? Lee Dafeng is behind this mess, sending his goons after us," Faang Ming said, his eyes still closed, piecing together the night's events.

This was the fifth time in seven days that they had been targeted, but it was the first nocturnal assault.

"What do we do now?" Chu Ning'er asked, her expression one of bewilderment.

"Stand behind me for now, Ning'er. I've still got unfinished business," Faang Ming instructed, his tone grave.

"Okay," Chu Ning'er responded, though her voice betrayed her confusion as she positioned herself behind him.

Faang Ming then rose to his feet and called out to the window, "Friends, since you've come all this way, why continue to skulk in the shadows?"

Chu Ning'er's heart raced at his words. "Could there be more of them outside? But Faang Ming doesn't seem to be joking..."

Just then, her mouth fell open in astonishment, confirming her suspicions. A young man, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, strolled leisurely out from the depths of the courtyard.

The young man sported a short haircut, yet the bangs in front were exceptionally long, draping low to conceal one of his eyes.

Despite the long hair obscuring his vision, Faang Ming discerned a steady resolve in the young man's exposed eye, a clear sign that he was a cut above the riffraff strewn about the ground.

"Who might you be? A member of the Black Dragon Gang, perhaps?" Faang Ming inquired nonchalantly, though he was already braced for trouble.

"You've got good ears! The name's Zhang Yijie. A friend has entrusted me with the task of ending your life," Zhang Yijie stated icily.

Faang Ming nearly chuckled at the declaration, half-expecting Zhang Yijie to be a time traveler from ancient times.

"Well, if that's how it is, let's skip the small talk. If you're feeling confident, make your move," Faang Ming replied, his tone dripping with nonchalance.

"Even in the pitch black, I sensed your strength. But I'm a man of my word, loyal to those who employ me." Zhang Yijie's words were cut short as he suddenly soared into the air, launching a kick straight at Faang Ming's face.

Faang Ming, poised and ready, swiftly backpedaled, but the kick was inescapable. Arms crossed in front of his chest, he braced himself to absorb the blow head-on.

The kick landed with a thud against Faang Ming's forearms, yet he merely staggered back a step.

"Quick and powerful, I'll give you that. Too bad you're up against me," Faang Ming said, a grin spreading across his face. He lunged at Zhang Yijie with the swiftness of the wind, his right hand shooting out like a coiled spring, fingers clawing viciously towards Zhang Yijie's throat.

The calm that once graced Zhang Yijie's features had vanished. He could feel the onslaught of a fierce wind against his chest, even before Faang Ming had reached him.

Luckily, Zhang Yijie's reflexes were sharp. His right hand shot out to meet Faang Ming's, their fingers locking in a fierce grip.

A smile crept onto Zhang Yijie's face as he put all his might into his grip, glancing up to gauge Faang Ming's reaction, confident in the power of his palm.

Yet, despite exerting his full strength, Zhang Yijie was met with Faang Ming's amused expression, his hand seemingly impervious to pain.

Zhang Yijie was baffled. His martial arts training had endowed him with a grip strength beyond the ordinary, but Faang Ming was just a young man, devoid of any visible muscle—how could he withstand such force?

"I'm about to strike!"

"Ha!"

Faang Ming's smile vanished, replaced by a fierce scowl. With a low growl, he intensified the pressure on Zhang Yijie's hand. In that moment of distraction, Zhang Yijie felt as though his hand was trapped between iron plates, the pain so intense it drew cold sweat and a stifled groan from him.

"Time to go down!" Faang Ming declared confidently. His left hand shot out, seizing the front of Zhang Yijie's shirt, ready to hurl him away.

Zhang Yijie, a lifelong martial artist, instantly recognized Faang Ming's next move. He didn't resist; instead, he spread his legs into a horse stance.

Still, disbelief filled his eyes as he found himself airborne, unmistakably flung by Faang Ming's single-handed toss.