Chapter Twenty-Four: Living Together

Without a moment's hesitation, Lin Yang lunged forward, fully exposing himself to the group, and charged straight toward the black-clad leader. Even a fool would realize what their plan was: to use Leng Nini as leverage and force him to surrender. It was a despicably effective scheme.

Exposing himself was undoubtedly dangerous, but Lin Yang had no other choice. Sure enough, only when he had left the park and was completely out in the open did the black-clad leader finally halt his frenzied escape, his face twisted in a triumphant grin.

"Kid, give it up!" the leader sneered, seeing his men surround Lin Yang tightly.

"You shouldn't have targeted her. Now, you'll die even more miserably," Lin Yang replied, his voice cold and devoid of emotion, like a verdict from hell. The confrontation had now become a battle of life and death.

In this unfavorable situation, Lin Yang made the first move, striking with ferocity. He lunged at the nearest black-clad man, aiming for his head.

Barehanded against sharp blades—this was madness, a fearless performance that would have sent any film crew scrambling to capture the moment.

A dull clang echoed as Lin Yang knocked aside a blade. With a cunning, ruthless grab, he paid only a minor injury in exchange for the man's life—a trade Lin Yang considered worthwhile.

One went down, but, unexpectedly, none of the others retreated. Instead, as though their primal instincts had been awakened, each stared at Lin Yang with bloodthirsty eyes.

"Hmph, let's see if you can dodge this!" the black-clad leader sneered, raising a silenced pistol and firing at Lin Yang amidst the chaos. He wasn't stupid—several of his men had already fallen. If this dragged on, they might all be killed. In the face of death, there was no such thing as dishonor.

It was impossible for one man, even with two fists, to fend off four attackers—let alone a pistol lurking for a chance to strike. Lin Yang fought with a death wish, unable to worry about the gunman as he desperately tried to avoid fatal wounds.

A knife to his back and a bullet grazing his right arm were the price for taking two more lives—a bargain, in Lin Yang’s mind.

The relentless slaughter dragged on for half an hour, until only two men were left standing, panting and exhausted. Finally, the violence abated.

Lin Yang now looked like a demon drenched in blood, his body soaked in gore—his own and his enemies’, impossible to distinguish. The corpses strewn about told the tale of the brutal struggle.

The leader, clutching his pistol, was in no better shape. Half his left hand hung limply, bone protruding through torn flesh, blood gushing freely and dyeing the ground crimson—a testament to his severe injuries.

"You're strong, frighteningly strong," the leader gasped, his right hand trembling as he clung to the pistol, his eyes already glazing over. As he collapsed into a pool of blood, he uttered one last, heartfelt admission, granting Lin Yang a hard-won honor even as death claimed him. "Demon"—that was the word on his lips as he met his end.

Lin Yang, his back still straight, finally collapsed to the ground, legs giving way as he gasped for breath. All his energy was spent; only sheer will had kept him alive. Without it, he would have been another corpse on the ground.

This was no place to linger. He dragged himself upright, found a safe and hidden spot, took out his phone, and called Tiger.

Deep in sleep, Tiger was jolted awake, annoyed at first, but his irritation vanished when he saw the caller ID. He answered immediately, "Brother Yang, what is it?" He knew there must be a reason for this call, especially at one in the morning.

"I ran into some trouble. I need your help," Lin Yang replied, breathless, and quickly explained the situation, instructing Tiger to deal with the bodies and cover up the aftermath before hanging up. Then, limping, he set off for home. With his injuries, he needed treatment right away—otherwise, he might not recover in half a month, and he didn’t want anyone discovering his condition.

Tiger, upon hearing the news, leapt out of bed, waking his sleeping wife. After soothing her, he hurried into the living room, still in pajamas and slippers, feeling as if he were dreaming. Fifteen armed thugs, one with a gun—and Lin Yang had faced them barehanded. Even Tiger, proud of his own fighting skills, wouldn’t dare claim he could take on four armed men without a weapon.

After regaining his composure, Tiger picked up the phone and ordered his men to handle the aftermath. This was the first time Lin Yang had entrusted him with something so important, and he was secretly thrilled—like a favored concubine restored to grace.

Once everything was arranged, Tiger changed clothes, gathered a few men, and headed straight for Lin Yang’s place—just in case anything else happened.

Meanwhile, Lin Yang was busy treating his wounds at home. Fortunately, most were superficial; otherwise, it would have been much more troublesome. Being a doctor, he was adept at dressing wounds.

Luckily, the commotion outside hadn’t disturbed the neighbors, or there would have been awkward questions—and possibly the police.

Tiger’s BMW roared through the city, making it across from the eastern district in just half an hour. Once there, he cautiously scanned the surroundings before knocking.

Lin Yang, sitting on the sofa, immediately tensed and looked toward the door. With his energy depleted, his senses were dulled, and he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. Carefully, he peered through the peephole and was relieved to see Tiger.

“What are you doing here?” Lin Yang asked as he let Tiger in. He’d only asked for help with the cleanup, not expecting Tiger to show up in the middle of the night.

“I was worried about you, so I rushed over,” Tiger replied seriously. “By the way, was it that guy from this afternoon who sent the killers?”

Lin Yang shook his head, though he suspected the culprit was likely Jiāng’s spoiled son. There was no evidence, but he believed it was ninety percent certain. Only someone with resources could dig up his background so quickly and send killers to silence him.

“I’m not sure. No evidence. The attackers were just hired guns,” Lin Yang replied helplessly.

“Anything else you need?” Tiger asked. He had already ordered his men to investigate the attackers, hoping to find a clue.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Yang said, “Can you help me find a safer, quieter place to stay? It’s no longer safe here.”

“No problem. I have a villa in Tianchen District—almost no one knows about it, and the security is top-notch. You’ll be safe there, and you can rest assured Miss Leng will be as well,” Tiger promised.

“All right. Thanks. I’ll move out as soon as I find a suitable place,” Lin Yang replied with a smile, though he was not one to owe favors easily.

Knowing there was no point in arguing, Tiger let it go. With his new accommodation arranged, Lin Yang went upstairs to wake Leng Nini and have her pack. They couldn’t stay here any longer.

Leng Nini, sound asleep, was entirely unaware she had just missed an epic battle. She was still dreaming sweetly when a sudden, urgent knock at the door woke her. Irritable as ever, she shouted, “Who is it? Why are you making such a racket in the middle of the night?”

“Nini, open up. It’s urgent,” Lin Yang called out, exasperated. He couldn’t help but sigh at her fiery temper—when would it ever change, aside from her alluring figure?

Hearing his voice, Leng Nini’s demeanor changed instantly. She jumped out of bed, slipped on her cartoon Venice slippers, and opened the door with a bright smile. “What’s up, brother Yang? Why the rush?”

“Pack your things—we’re moving,” Lin Yang said seriously, with no sign of jest.

Leng Nini, confused, stared wide-eyed at him as if to say, Are you out of your mind? Moving in the middle of the night?

As she looked him over, she noticed the blood-soaked bandage on his arm. Her face instantly clouded with anger. “Was it Jiang Tao that bastard who sent people after you?” she demanded. As a member of an influential family, she knew all about the shady dealings of powerful clans—her own family had done plenty of dirty work themselves.

“Not sure, but it’s more likely than not,” Lin Yang replied, not hiding much but also not elaborating, urging her to hurry.

It took a full fifteen minutes for Leng Nini to finish packing. When Lin Yang saw the pile of luggage, he was left speechless—at least ten bags, when she’d only brought three. Apparently, women were born to be slaves to possessions.

“Brother Yang, are we living together this time?” Leng Nini asked coyly as they headed out.

Before Lin Yang could answer, his phone rang—a call from an unfamiliar number.