Chapter 122: Killing Intent

The leaves hung in the air, no longer falling.

What sort of ingenious design could create such a spectacular scene?

If a passerby were to see this, they would surely take a picture, excitedly preserving the moment.

But for Chen Zhengyang, this was anything but wonderful.

Every single leaf was part of a deadly trap.

In an instant, they would spiral down and shred him to pieces.

Run!

Only by running, by desperately putting distance between himself and the giant tree, did Chen Zhengyang have any chance of survival.

He turned to run back the way he came.

But to his horror, he found Mu Lin already standing behind him.

Silent and still. Only when he laid eyes on Mu Lin did Chen Zhengyang sense his presence.

It was a testament to the heights of Mu Lin's power.

Chen Zhengyang no longer dared to guess what level of power Mu Lin had reached.

'Pointless to guess wildly.'

But nothing else mattered now.

"Go on, run," Mu Lin said, his face cold.

"You seemed to be enjoying it so much. Why stop?"

Chen Zhengyang looked up at the leaves suspended overhead. He knew in his heart that there was no escape.

He dropped to his knees with a THUD.

"Spare me, sir! I told you, I'm willing to pay to settle this peacefully!"

Mu Lin narrowed his eyes. "And how much are you willing to pay?"

"One billion, and the head of Patriarch Yang!"

Mu Lin chuckled. "First, I don't need a billion. Second, I don't know Patriarch Yang. What if you just grab some random person's head to fool me?"

"Besides, killing him won't be difficult. I won't need you to do it for me."

As his words fell, despair filled Chen Zhengyang's eyes.

He bit down hard on the tip of his tongue, his mouth instantly filling with blood.

He was going to use his last resort, to risk it all.

Mu Lin watched his performance with an amused grin, in no hurry to act.

Chen Zhengyang spat a bloody mist toward the sky, then spread his hands, waiting for it to fall back onto him.

Immediately, Chen Zhengyang's aura strengthened, the change visible to the naked eye.

It climbed higher and higher.

Mu Lin had truly never heard of such an evil art. 'A technique that could catalyze one's potential like this, trading it for offensive power?'

"A little interesting," Mu Lin mused, rubbing his chin.

Chen Zhengyang said, "Scared? Then let me leave! Otherwise, once I attack, you're finished!"

But it was useless. He hadn't truly grown stronger; it was merely an illusion.

His attack power might have genuinely increased, but his defense was as fragile as paper, ready to be torn at a touch.

Chen Zhengyang transformed into a streak of crimson light, lunging for Mu Lin's heart.

If this blow landed, Mu Lin would surely die.

But Mu Lin was faster. His fist plunged into Chen Zhengyang's body and out his back.

Clutched in his palm was a pale, shriveled heart.

It was Chen Zhengyang's.

The evil art that stimulated his potential had mobilized all the blood in his body, leaving his heart almost completely drained.

His fist was stained so red with blood that no other detail was visible.

"Look at you now. How does it feel?" Mu Lin sneered.

"I... have been defeated..."

Chen Zhengyang slowly swayed and collapsed to the ground.

Muttering to himself, Mu Lin kicked Chen Zhengyang's body into the ravine below. This area was frequented by carnivorous beasts; they would naturally help Mu Lin dispose of the corpse.

Then, he sensed another presence nearby.

It was powerful, yet held no hostility.

If anything, it was Mu Lin and Chen Zhengyang who had disturbed him.

"Senior, I see you. Why not come out for a chat? Hiding and skulking lacks a certain heroic spirit."

A vigorous, white-haired old man walked out, holding an herb in his hands.

The herb's leaves seemed to be waxed, reflecting light intensely.

But those weren't leaves; they were petals.

Enormous petals.

The pistil was as long as an adult's middle finger and entirely red, with a bulging stigma at its tip where the pollen was held.

"Young friend, you are formidable. I saw everything you just did."

"My name is Liu Yiming. Might we exchange our histories, young friend?"

Mu Lin replied coolly, "I'm just a country bumpkin. Not a name worth remembering."

"A Celestial Sunflower. You don't see those often," Mu Lin said.

Liu Yiming was even more delighted that Mu Lin recognized it. "My granddaughter suffers from a strange illness. I have traveled far and wide seeking famous doctors for her."

"This is the most crucial ingredient in her prescription!"

Liu Yiming admired Mu Lin, so he spoke more freely.

But Mu Lin said, "It's useless. Don't waste the herb. You might as well sell it and make some money."

Hearing this, Liu Yiming froze.

'I'm risking my life for my granddaughter, and this young man is just pouring cold water on my efforts?'

'Do you have any idea how much I've sacrificed for this?'

For a moment, rage rushed to his head, and he wanted to scream at Mu Lin.

But Mu Lin simply turned and walked away.

'He's probably a madman,' Liu Yiming thought, not bothering with him. He hurried to the edge of the ravine to check on the man Mu Lin had kicked down.

The body was snagged on a tree branch, swaying precariously.

Liu Yiming peered carefully, barely managing to make out the face.

"Isn't that Chen Zhengyang? A Grandmaster-level expert, killed by that madman?"

This was the stuff of legends... Unbelievable!

Anhua was about to be turned upside down.

The midday heat had little effect on the Yang Villa.

The central air conditioning spread throughout the estate kept the home constantly cool.

But at this moment, Patriarch Yang, seated on the sofa, had nothing but desolation in his eyes.

Two generations, dead.

Two generations of heirs, all dead. The Yang Family was now like a cripple with a broken spine.

They could still breathe, but any chance for future growth was gone.

In the future, among the Zhou, Liu, and Yang families, they would be relegated to the lowest position, fit only to polish the shoes of the other two.

It was a despair beyond measure.

His disappointing son... though he had often scolded him, the man had ultimately made great contributions to the family's prosperity.

And his eldest grandson, Yang Guangming.

The old man had had very simple expectations for Yang Guangming: he just wanted him to be happy.

Guangming had originally loved the arts. He had been sent abroad to study music. But for the sake of the family, he had voluntarily given up music to study business instead. By the time the old man found out, he was nearly ready to graduate.

Such a good child, yet he had died a cruel death at Mu Lin's hands.

The bodies of the two had already been collected, awaiting a grand funeral.

Now, Patriarch Yang had only one desire: to kill Mu Lin and use his head as an offering to his tragically deceased son and grandson.

Master Chen had already made his move. All that was left to do was wait.

Suddenly, he noticed someone crouching on the windowsill, watching him through the glass.

'So sneaky... How did he get in?'

'Didn't the guards outside notice?'

Patriarch Yang rose and walked to the window.

He was stunned to see that the person was Mu Lin!

'How is he not dead?'

"You're the one in charge of the Yang Family? Do you know what happens when you see me?" Mu Lin's gaze was ice-cold, devoid of any warmth.

Patriarch Yang didn't rush to speak, instead moving to one side.

Mu Lin said coolly, "Don't bother. Even if you make it to the secret tunnel, there's no one left to help you. They're all dead."

"If you don't want to die right this second, you'll listen to me obediently."

Mu Lin was completely unruffled; his own words stirred no emotion within him.

Patriarch Yang took a deep breath, struggling to control his inner turmoil and maintain a calm facade.

'If Mu Lin wanted to kill me, he would have done it already. He wouldn't have given me even a moment's respite.'

"What are your instructions?"

Mu Lin walked over to the sofa Patriarch Yang had just been sitting on and sat down. "You're the one who sent Chen Zhengyang, aren't you?"

Patriarch Yang wailed inwardly at the mention of that name.

'Since Mu Lin has met him and isn't dead, what could that possibly mean?'

'What could it mean?'

'It means Chen Zhengyang is probably already a dead man!'

There was no use avoiding it; he had to face the truth.

Patriarch Yang took a deep breath, then said:

"Chen Zhengyang is a retainer of my Yang Family. I was the one who sent him to kill you."

Mu Lin's eyes hardened, a flash of coldness in his heart.

"Just as I thought."

"But he should have come for me. Why did he have to involve innocent people?"

"Elder Li... he was very, very good to me, yet Chen Zhengyang severely wounded him."

"Aunt Lin... she truly treated me like her own son-in-law..."

"They're all good people. They didn't deserve something like this!"

"But Chen Zhengyang, without any rhyme or reason, went after them with killing intent."

Every word struck Patriarch Yang's heart like a hammer blow.

He knew he was finished.

'After saying all this, Mu Lin is definitely going to kill me.'