Chapter 83: Useless!

The two men clashed and broke apart in an instant, and to everyone’s surprise, Ye Fei seemed to be at a slight disadvantage.

“Young man, you’re quite impressive.”

A ripple of emotion flickered across Uncle Qing’s usually impassive face.

Right in front of the assembled crowd, he shrugged off his heavy cotton coat. On each of his arms, thick iron rings, each as wide as a finger, clattered and clanged with a harsh, metallic sound as they collided. At a glance, his arms looked nothing like flesh and blood, but rather like iron pillars, the rings seemingly fused with his limbs, sending a chill into the hearts of those who saw them.

“No wonder this guy wears such a thick coat in the heat—he’s from the Hong family,” Chen Yu exclaimed in surprise, her pretty face gradually growing somber.

“Little lady, you’re at least a bit knowledgeable. Since you know what the Hong family is, why don’t you make that pretty boy next to you kneel and offer his apologies to me?” Young Master Pan sneered, his face full of arrogant pride.

“The Hong family?” Ye Fei looked puzzled.

“My second uncle mentioned them once—an ancient clan of boxing masters with a lineage stretching back over a hundred years,” Chen Yu explained softly. “Each generation, the Hong family accepts only ten disciples. From the day their bones are fully developed, they must wear iron rings and practice boxing day and night, never removing the rings for life. After ten years they become proficient, after twenty they master it, and after thirty years they’re qualified to found their own sect. They’re renowned in the country as masters of boxing, but they keep a low profile. Ordinary people have never even heard of them.”

“Oh? So it’s a traditional martial heritage of our country?” Ye Fei stroked his chin.

He was indeed aware that there were ancient martial families in the country who had survived for centuries, though they’d faded from view in recent years as technology advanced. These families differed greatly from ordinary martial clans; most were veterans in the practice of ancient martial arts and external boxing.

Strictly speaking, most of these ancient martial families cooperated with government agencies, and some of their descendants had even been recruited and trained to form covert special teams for classified missions.

“My second uncle also said that the Hong family’s Iron Fist is primarily a killing art, not an ordinary style of ancient martial arts,” Chen Yu added quickly, as if recalling something. “This is the Xing family’s territory. We’d best not make too much of a scene.”

“Enough!” Ye Fei was about to speak when a commanding voice rang out from behind.

Xing Ge stepped forward to face the group, glancing coolly at Ye Fei before addressing Young Master Pan: “Pan Shanfu, for the sake of my Xing family, let’s consider today’s matter settled. I’ll refund your money for the bronze cauldron.”

“Pan Shanfu?” Ye Fei and Chen Yu were both taken aback.

So this man was Pan Shanfu—the very heir who had clashed with Situ Ye? What a coincidence, to run into him here in Binhai City!

The Pan family of Hebei Province was not a whit inferior to the Chen family.

Chen Yu began to feel uneasy, though Ye Fei was only mildly surprised.

“Settled?” Pan Shanfu narrowed his eyes, hesitating. After all, this was Xing Ge’s turf, and the Xing family had some influence here. Although the Pan family’s power did not quite match the Xing family’s, Pan Shanfu had yet to inherit the family head’s position, so escalating the conflict would benefit neither side.

As for the bronze cauldron, he hadn’t cared much for such antiques to begin with; buying it was merely to please his elders. Now that someone had spent half an hour roasting it over fire, what was the point in keeping it?

But the girl was so lovely, it was hard to let go.

Having made up his mind, Young Master Pan massaged his temples and put on a magnanimous air, waving his hand. “The cauldron—you can take it. Call it a gift from me in a generous mood. But that guy has to apologize to me. Never in my life has anyone spoken to me like that—who does he think he is?”

His words were plainly aimed at Ye Fei, showing he had no intention of letting him go.

“Apologize? And who do you think you are?” Ye Fei retorted with a cold laugh. “If Mr. Xing weren’t here today, I’d make you pay dearly. You talk about accepting defeat with dignity, yet you show none. For the Pan family to have produced such a worthless heir—how pitiable.”

“You bastard, you’re courting death!” Pan Shanfu’s face twisted with fury. He shoved Xing Ge aside and jabbed a finger at Ye Fei. “Qing Shu, smash his mouth for me!”

Uncle Qing didn’t hesitate. He turned his attention to Ye Fei, lunging forward like a shadow, his fists like two black iron pillars.

Chen Yu was about to intervene when she felt a sudden, powerful surge of air beside her. In the next instant, Uncle Qing’s massive body was slammed into the wall.

A spurt of blood shot from Uncle Qing’s mouth, his face paling instantly.

The sight left Pan Shanfu utterly dumbfounded.

Who was Uncle Qing?

He was one of the top three fighters in the family!

The sole heir to the Hong family’s boxing tradition!

To be sent flying without even landing a blow—how was that possible?

“I have no desire to kill anyone here. Get lost.” Ye Fei, holding the bronze cauldron, strode up to Xing Ge and looked down at Pan Shanfu, eyes filled with murderous intent.

For someone like Pan Shanfu, who’d spent his life idling, indulging in pleasure and vice, the lethal aura radiating from Ye Fei—honed by years of clawing his way out of death—was as oppressive as a mountain weighing millions of pounds. He could barely breathe.

“You… Do you really want to make an enemy of the Pan family?” Pan Shanfu’s lips trembled, eyes dark and brooding, his pride not allowing him to yield.

“The Pan family? Hah.” Ye Fei raised his hand and slapped Pan Shanfu harshly across the face. “This is me, Ye Fei, teaching a lesson on behalf of your family. If I ever meet your father, Pan Shanyu, I’ll see if he’s any better than a useless son like you!”

The slap rang out sharply.

“You dare hit me?!” Pan Shanfu clutched his reddened cheek, utterly stunned.

Never in his life—not even his own parents—had anyone ever disciplined him, let alone struck him. Even when he’d stirred up trouble outside, the power of his family name had always shielded him from consequences.

Ye Fei’s sudden blow drove him nearly mad with rage.

His eyes bloodshot, Pan Shanfu pounced at Ye Fei, shouting, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

But—

Ye Fei casually kicked him aside as though he were nothing.

Regardless of whether he had mastered the Nine Dragons Divine Art, years of physical training made dealing with a spoiled heir like Pan Shanfu as easy as eating a meal.

Uncle Qing had by now recovered, staggering from the dented wall. Wiping blood from his lips, he hauled the groaning Pan Shanfu onto his shoulder, shot Ye Fei a dark, venomous glare, and said, “You have some skill. The Pan family won’t forget today. We’ll repay this a hundredfold.”