Chapter 25: Flies Unaware of Their Own Insignificance

"Hey! Are you alright? You don’t look very well," Xiuer asked with some concern.

Zhang Wenhe waved his hand dismissively.
"It's nothing. I just felt a bit stuffy in my chest a moment ago. A little rest and I’ll be fine."
With that, he turned and headed toward his seat. The fragrant air made him feel like crying, but inside, he remained resolute.
"No, I must expose these two frauds. If I don’t, how will I ever hold my head high again?"
Thinking this, he sat back on the sofa, crossed his legs, and resumed his arrogant demeanor.

"By the way, you’re the Young Lord of Ghost Valley. Ghost Valley sounds like a sect from Huaxia; you must know some martial arts, right?"
Ling Xiao gave a faint "Mm," lowering his eyelids to savor his tea. His calm manner made Zhang Wenhe secretly sneer.
"As expected of a top con artist, he really acts like a young master from a wealthy family! But a paper tiger is still a paper tiger. I’ll expose him soon enough."
He cleared his throat and spoke again:
"Since you’re the Young Lord of Ghost Valley, you must know some martial arts, right?"
"A little," Ling Xiao replied.

"Oh!" Zhang Wenhe’s eyes lit up, a sly smile curling at his lips.
"What a coincidence. I too know a bit of martial arts. I’ve been back from Africa for days now, and my hands are itching for action. How about this? You spar with me, let me see what Ghost Valley’s skills are like—I’d like to broaden my horizons!"
He spoke politely, but inside he was shouting,
"Agree! Just say yes! Once you do, I, the King of Soldiers, will beat you so badly you won’t be able to take care of yourself. Let’s see how arrogant you can be then, you fraud!"

But how could Ling Xiao not see through his little scheme?
"No need. Daochu is loyal to Ghost Valley, and his fists are ruthless. If I hurt you, it would pain his heart," Ling Xiao replied calmly.

Zhang Wenhe chuckled.
"It’s alright! I’ll explain it to my grandfather. Besides, you haven’t seen my strength yet—I’m not to be underestimated! If we really fight, it’s not certain who will be injured!"
His words were full of provocation and tension, causing Ling Xiao to frown slightly in displeasure.
He was giving Zhang Daochu face, since Daochu was a loyal subordinate of Ghost Valley.
But this Zhang Wenhe seemed intent on courting disaster.

Ling Xiao said indifferently,
"If you want a fight, you can have one. But I’m not interested. Xiuer, you play with him."

"Yes, Young Lord!"

Zhang Wenhe froze, immediately protesting,
"Hey! I want to fight you. I don’t hit women! Are you even a man? Hiding behind a woman instead of stepping up yourself—what’s the point?"

Ling Xiao took another sip of tea, his expression indifferent.
"If you beat her, I’ll fight you."

"Alright! That’s your word!"
With that, Zhang Wenhe walked up to Xiuer and whistled at her.
"Girl, don’t blame me—it’s not that I don’t know how to cherish beauty, it’s just that you’re asking for it, insisting on stepping up for him. Don’t worry, I won’t hit your face! Go ahead, make your move."

He stood with his hands behind his back and chin raised, full of arrogance, as if Xiuer wasn’t worth his full strength—or even half.

Xiuer frowned delicately, hesitated, and sighed before stepping forward. She raised her hand and slapped him.
It was a simple slap, and Zhang Wenhe smirked disdainfully.
A girl, after all, who didn’t know any proper moves—just a slap, nothing more.

But the thought had barely formed when a tremendous force sent him flying with a thunderous crash.

Bang!

Crash!

Xiuer’s slap sent Zhang Wenhe flying over twenty meters, overturning a sofa and two tables.
He never imagined that the delicate hand could unleash such power.

When he finally staggered to his feet, his head was buzzing and his ears rang.
Half his face felt numb and swollen, as if stung by a hornet.

"Phh—!"

He spat out a mouthful of blood, mixed with two large teeth.
Tears streamed down his face.

"You... how are you so strong?"

Xiuer lowered her head slightly.
"Young Master Zhang flatters me. With my skills, I hardly rank in Ghost Valley—barely qualified to serve as the Young Lord’s maid."

This left Zhang Wenhe utterly dumbfounded.
He finally understood why Ling Xiao hadn’t bothered to fight him himself.
They simply didn’t deem him worthy of notice!
Even a random maid was this formidable—what if it had been Ling Xiao himself...
At that moment, Zhang Wenhe felt as though a door to a new world had opened.

Without another word, he scrambled up and ran over to Ling Xiao.
Xiuer frowned, about to intercept him, but Zhang Wenhe dropped to his knees before Ling Xiao.

"Young Lord, I was blind just now, didn’t recognize greatness! I want to follow you! Please take me in!"

Ling Xiao set down his teacup, not answering.

"Not today. Daochu has matters to attend to. Xiuer, let’s head back."

"Yes, Young Lord!"

With that, Ling Xiao walked out with hands behind his back, Xiuer following closely.
Zhang Wenhe hurried after them.

"Young Lord! Please take me in! I was a King of Soldiers in Africa, known as Wolf Fang! If you accept me, I’ll be your staunch ally—I won’t let you down."
"Young Lord, I have plenty of money. I can donate all of it to Ghost Valley, just like my grandfather. Please accept me!"
"Young Lord, I’ll brave any danger for you, cross mountains and seas!"

...
He chased them all the way to the gate, where Ming Cheng stepped forward with a blocking gesture. Zhang Wenhe quickly tried to ingratiate himself.

"Wow! You must be a senior brother from Ghost Valley, right? Those tiger eyes and bold brows, such spirit—you must be a master!"

Ming Cheng was taken aback, pointing at Zhang Wenhe and asking Xiuer,
"Xiuer, where did this clown come from?"

Xiuer pursed her lips in a smile.
"He’s Zhang Daochu’s grandson."

Before she could finish, Zhang Wenhe quickly handed over a business card.
"Greetings, senior brother. I’m Zhang Wenhe, here’s my card."

Ming Cheng accepted the card, noting it was similar to Ling Xiao’s, with a blue wolf head on the back and Zhang Wenhe’s credentials on the front—except, unlike Ling Xiao’s, the writing wasn’t real gold.

"Wolf Fang Captain, Zhang Wenhe! Top African King of Soldiers..."

"That’s right, that’s me!"
Zhang Wenhe pointed proudly at himself.

Looking at his smug, youthful face, Ming Cheng’s stubbled cheeks twitched hard.

"A brat like you—should be studying, not playing soldier. Go home and drink milk!"

With that, he tossed the card back to Zhang Wenhe and got in the car, telling the driver to leave.

Zhang Wenhe chased after them for several steps.

"Take care, Young Lord! Take care, senior brother and sister! Let’s meet again soon! I’m waiting to join Ghost Valley and become one of you!"