"Jiang Dashan, don't push your luck. This rundown shack isn't worth a dime. Young Master Lin taking a liking to your land is a blessing for your family!"
At the entrance to Kaoshan Village, several black SUVs blocked the road with arrogant flair. Lin Zihao stood in a sharp suit—though one side of his face was still covered with anti-swelling ointment, his eyes were as vicious as ever. Behind him stood more than a dozen burly bodyguards dressed in black. Leading them was a bald brute whose arms were thicker than most people's thighs.
Jiang Che's father, Jiang Dashan, stood trembling with rage in front of his courtyard gate. "Young Master Lin, my father was just buried! And you're already trying to tear down his house? This land isn't for sale—no matter how much you offer!"
"Not for sale?" Lin Zihao spat out his gum and sneered. "In River City, there's no land I can't buy. If you won't sell… we'll just demolish it. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility!"
Several bodyguards grinned wickedly as they stepped forward. One reached out, ready to shove Jiang Dashan aside.
That was when a cold voice echoed from deep within the courtyard.
"If that hand touches my dad… I'll make sure it never holds chopsticks again."
Everyone froze.
Jiang Che stepped out through the doorway. He wore a clean white shirt—nothing fancy—but his entire presence had changed beyond recognition.
His skin looked smooth as jade. His eyes were deep like starlight. Every movement carried an indescribable authority.
"Well, well… if it isn't the 'King of Simps,'" Lin Zihao said through clenched teeth. "You dared to mess with me at school? Out here in the middle of nowhere, I could ruin you and nobody would even know. A'Biao—break one of his hands!"
The bald giant cracked his knuckles and charged forward, his massive fist swinging straight toward Jiang Che's face.
Jiang Che didn't even blink.
Inside his mind, the white-haired elder scoffed. "A brute with nothing but muscle dares call himself a fighter? Kid—sink your qi to your dantian. Borrow his strength… and teach him a lesson."
Jiang Che understood instantly. Just as the fist came within inches of his face, his body shifted strangely to the left. His right hand caught the brute's wrist, guiding it lightly—one pull, one twist.
"Taiji — Cloud Hands."
Boom!
The two-hundred-pound giant flew through the air like a kicked ball, launched over fifteen feet before crashing straight onto the roof of Lin Zihao's Ferrari. The metal caved in instantly, and the alarm shrieked through the valley.
Dead silence.
"H-How is that possible?" Lin Zihao stumbled back three steps in terror. A'Biao was a provincial sanda champion—and he'd been taken down in one move by this broke college kid?
Jiang Che brushed imaginary dust from his hands and glanced at Lin Zihao, frowning slightly.
In Jiang Che's vision, a thick, pitch-black aura swirled around Lin Zihao's forehead—dense with deathly energy. Within it flickered faint, wailing ghostly shadows.
"You see it?" Laozi's voice echoed in his mind. "That brat's family hasn't just done evil—they've invited something unclean. That black aura is Soul-Devouring Malice. Someone's using their entire bloodline as alchemical fuel."
Jiang Che smirked inwardly but kept his face calm. He casually pulled a piece of yellow paper from his pocket—something he'd grabbed from the house earlier. His fingertip moved subtly, forming a Curse of Misfortune in an instant.
"Lin Zihao," Jiang Che said coldly as he walked forward, "my grandfather just passed. I don't want bloodshed today. Take your people and get out. Otherwise… I have plenty of ways to make you wish you were dead."
"Y-You think you can scare me?" Lin Zihao barked, though his legs trembled under Jiang Che's suffocating killing intent.
As Jiang Che brushed past him, he flicked the yellow paper onto Lin Zihao's back.
"Let's go! We're leaving!" Lin Zihao suddenly felt a chill down his spine. Without another word, he led his battered crew away in disgrace.
But before their SUVs could even leave the village, something bizarre happened.
Crack!
All four tires on Lin Zihao's vehicle exploded at once. The car skidded uncontrollably and plunged straight into a roadside manure pit.
"AHHH!"
Lin Zihao crawled out, covered head to toe in filth. Just as he opened his mouth to curse, a violent cramp twisted his stomach. An unstoppable urge overwhelmed him, and his body betrayed him instantly.
Pfft—Prrrrt!
The long, unmistakable sound echoed across the quiet mountain valley.
His bodyguards stared in horror. The great young master of the Lin family… had just publicly soiled himself? And worse—the muck from the manure pit slid across his face and into his mouth. Lin Zihao vomited violently while continuing to lose control, the scene both grotesque and strangely satisfying.
…
"Serves him right! Damn right it does!" Jiang Dashan muttered, watching from afar, confused but deeply gratified.
Jiang Che, however, wasn't laughing. If Laozi said the Lin family was being targeted, then this was far from over. And if he wanted to rebuild the Dao lineage, strength alone wasn't enough—he'd need money… and influence.
"Dad, I'm heading back to River City,"