Chapter 73: And Which Senior Sister of Mine Might You Be This Time?
Seeing this, Ye Fei had no choice but to leap up, twisting his feet in a strange arc toward the two men’s ankles, and with sheer force, broke them both.
Crack!
Crack!
Two crisp sounds of bone snapping echoed.
Not only did the tall and thin men not cry out in pain, but they instead roared in fury, propping themselves up with their remaining foot and rising from the ground.
“You've got guts!”
Ye Fei stepped back in astonishment, his face drained of color.
Though his spinal wound was contained by spiritual energy to prevent blood loss, it did not mean the injury was negligible. Ye Fei was no invincible iron-clad hero; the pain radiating from his back made it difficult to concentrate.
But the tall and thin men were hardly in better shape. Having lost the use of one foot, they glared at Ye Fei, murderous intent in their eyes.
The tall man leapt with knife in hand, pouncing like a tiger, aiming straight for Ye Fei’s crown.
Ye Fei frowned, activating his spiritual vision. As soon as he traced the man’s movement, a chill swept over his lower body—
The thin man, with the knife clenched between his teeth, crawled across the floor using both hands, like a lizard on parade, moving swiftly toward Ye Fei’s legs and the vital region between them.
“Damn, how ruthless!”
Ye Fei cursed aloud, forcing his body to twist and hurling himself against the wall.
Hiss!
He sucked in a breath, his back wound worsening, spiritual energy inside him threatening to disperse.
With that, Ye Fei’s vital energy scattered, rendering him unable to fight.
“You’re about to die,” sneered the tall man, his accent betraying his rural origins. Though it sounded awkward, his murderous intent was unmistakable, as if Ye Fei were already a corpse.
He slowly raised his cleaver, aiming it at Ye Fei’s face.
The boss who had supported them all these years had said that the young man before them must be dismembered, and splitting his skull would be the first cut.
There is a world of difference between a butcher and an executioner: the former slaughters pigs, dogs, cattle, and sheep, the latter beheads men. The force required differs greatly.
Simply put, slaughtering animals requires finesse—bleeding, skinning, removing organs, all done with skill.
But killing a man demands brute strength—heavy force, heavy grip, heavy weapon, whatever delivers a fatal blow.
Evidently, these two had mastered the latter.
The blade showed no mercy toward Ye Fei.
“Is this where I die?” Ye Fei’s expression hardened, muttering to himself.
Suddenly, he looked up at the tightly shut door, a smile curling his lips.
At last, someone arrived!
Boom!
The heavy door was kicked open, crashing down before the two assailants.
Before the cold gleam of a blade appeared, an angry roar sounded.
A supple figure burst in.
After a fierce battle—
The tall and thin men were left crippled, lying unconscious on the floor, defeated by a woman in a black dress with a frosty expression.
They hadn’t even had a chance to resist.
Even Ye Fei hadn’t caught her movements. The two men on the floor bore several visible wounds, and their clothes—previously unchanged—were now shredded into countless strips.
Supported by the woman, Ye Fei sat on a bloodstained sofa, regulating his breath as he watched her apply medicine from who-knows-where to his wounds, stitching up the gash with medical thread.
“You’ve got skill, like a nurse,” Ye Fei joked, baring his teeth, only to feel a stab of pain in his back.
“Alright, alright, I won’t argue—you're the boss, okay?”
Another sharp pain.
“Ow, ow, stop pinching, damn!”
Ye Fei cried out, and the woman finally stopped, stepping in front of him and casting him a cold glance.
Their eyes met.
Two seconds later.
The woman burst out laughing, pulled Ye Fei into her arms, and said, “Little brother, oh little brother, your big sister has missed you so much. Let me hold you!”
In an instant,
Ye Fei felt enveloped in warmth, nearly suffocating.
“Enough!”
After a moment, Ye Fei broke free, wiped the blood from his nose, and grinned at the icy beauty before him. “Which big sister are you this time?”
The woman said nothing, only pinched his cheek, smiling. “It’s not time yet. I’ve got other things to handle. Stay here; I’ll come find you later.”
With that, she turned and left swiftly.
“Wait!”
Ye Fei barely had time to call out before she vanished.
“What’s going on?”
Ye Fei scratched his head, bewildered.
But deep down, he already had an inkling.
If his guess was right, this senior sister was none other than the director of the orphanage.
Ever since Yang Tianming had tracked her phone, Ye Fei had sensed that one of his senior sisters was rushing toward him.
But she came and went in a flash.
Ye Fei could only carry Chen Yu to the hospital, gradually using spiritual energy to heal his own wounds along the way.
That was the benefit of the Nine Dragons Divine Art.
Pain was unavoidable, but the healing period was not long.
After delivering Chen Yu to the hospital, Ye Fei did not linger; he returned to the Full Moon Restaurant.
Why come back?
The answer was simple.
Some scores still needed settling.
…
Meanwhile.
Inside a certain villa.
Situ Feng opened his phone, glanced at the incoming text, and his face twisted in rage.
The message contained only a few words: “Assassination failed. Abort plan.”
Smash.
He violently shattered his phone, worth tens of thousands, clutching his chest and gasping, nearly apoplectic.
“Ye Fei, I want you dead!”
“I want you dead!”
His roar echoed through the villa.
…
Ye Fei pushed open the door, gazing down the empty corridor, his expression cold and grim.
“What a fine Full Moon Hotel.”
If he was correct, this hotel belonged to Situ Feng, or at the very least he held shares in it; otherwise, the ambush would have been impossible.
Though Ye Fei had been cautious, it was impossible to anticipate every twist.
In other words, the dinner itself was likely a ruse—shares, listing, all a trap to lure Ye Fei into the snare and kill him.
If so, Situ Feng was even more ruthless than expected.