Chapter 272

First Volume, Chapter 272: Riot at Fengming Lou

The noisy, chaotic wine house fell utterly silent.

After what felt like an eternity, the ruffians finally snapped out of their shock.

In an instant, gasps and hushed whispers erupted one after another.

"I… I didn't imagine that, did I? Qin Feng just touched the boss's head?"

"A woman's waist, a man's head—both are taboo! Qin Feng insults our boss the moment he sets eyes on him—has he grown tired of life?"

"Hmph! Seeking death! Even if he carries the golden sash, what of it? Watch closely—today Qin Feng will bleed five paces."

Li Lang gripped the roasted chicken and wine pot tightly; first he froze, then his pale face flushed deeper and deeper until his entire face twisted with rage.

Li Lang swung the wine pot straight at Qin Feng's head, screaming hysterically: "Damned Qin Feng, if I don't break your dog legs today, I'm not the Baron of Fuyun County!"

Though young, Li Lang possessed astonishing strength; as he swung the wine pot, it seemed to summon gusts of wind.

If that blow landed, Qin Feng's brains would splatter.

He opens with a killing move?

Youth is youth—no thought for consequences!

Qin Feng was startled and moved to cover his head and flee, but Shu Feng reacted swiftly, lifting her slender foot to strike Li Lang's wrist with perfect accuracy.

Crack!

The wine pot flew from his grip, smashed against the wall, and shattered into pieces.

Qin Feng exhaled in relief, quickly ducking behind Shu Feng, one hand gripping her waist, the other reaching over her shoulder to point at Li Lang, shouting loudly: "You're so young, yet so ruthless! I have deep ties with Ji Wang—I've always called myself his nephew. By that reckoning, I'm your elder brother. Are you trying to kill your own brother? You're a vile beast!"

Li Lang, already hot-headed and young, inherited Ming Wang's violent temperament—his temper was gunpowder, ignited at the slightest spark.

He couldn't withstand Qin Feng's provocation method; he exploded in fury: "You damned bastard, you insulted me first, now you insult my elder brother! I, Li Lang, have only one elder brother in this life—the Crown Prince! Do you think you're worthy to be my elder brother? Damned bastard, today it's either you dead or me dead!"

"What the hell are you all standing there for? Hit them! If you injure them, I'll pay for their care! If you kill them, I'll bury them!"

At Li Lang's roar, the ruffians finally snapped out of their shock, snarling and lunging forward.

Ning Hu had seen brutal battlefields, slain the Beidi Legendary Tooth General—this brawl among thugs held no pressure for him, only mockery.

Ning Hu showed no hesitation, punching straight into the face of the ruffian charging at him.

A dull thud echoed.

The ruffian toppled backward, blood spurting from his nose, unconscious on the spot.

But the remaining ruffians did not back down.

At that moment, a roar came from the staircase.

"Ning Hu slew Zhong Ling, hailed as the First Deputy Commander of Shedynasty! If we cripple him, we'll all become famous throughout Heaven!"

"Comrades, don't fear! With our big brother watching over us, even if heaven falls, it won't crush us!"

The one rallying morale was the ruffian who had retreated from Ning Hu at the staircase entrance earlier.

His earlier retreat had been fake—all to lure them into the trap.

Learning this sturdy man was the legendary Ning Qianhu, the ruffians howled and charged forward.

Ning Hu advanced without retreating; every punch he threw sent a ruffian crashing to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, four ruffians lay knocked out by Ning Hu.

But strangely…

The ruffians' morale surged almost unnaturally.

They were cowardly bullies who picked on the weak, yet facing the nearly invincible Ning Hu, they showed no fear, charging forward like suicidal fools.

At that moment, the green-clad ruffian also scrambled up, snatching a stool and roaring: "For Ming Wang!"

What the hell?!

Qin Feng's heart lurched.

Damn! We've been tricked.

These weren't ruffians—they were Ming Wang's personal soldiers, forced by the Liang Emperor's pressure to hide their identity, disguising themselves as ruffians.

As the saying goes: no matter how skilled a martial artist, he fears a cleaver.

Facing Ming Wang's fearless personal soldiers, after dispatching seven or eight, Ning Hu was immediately engulfed in chaotic close-quarters combat.

The corridor was too narrow; Ning Hu couldn't maneuver. Once knocked down, he was pummeled by a rain of fists. Even as fierce as Ning Hu, he could only clutch his head and endure the blows.

Qin Feng clutched Shu Feng tightly, panicked and babbling: "Bad! Terrible! Big trouble! I thought these were just thugs—we've walked into a trap! Shu Feng, you must protect me!"

Shu Feng felt Qin Feng's strong arms around her, her cheeks flushed, and she whispered softly: "Master, you're holding me like this—I can't fight properly."

As Shu Feng protested, Li Lang charged forward.

"Qin Feng Gouzei, aren't your Tianji Camp Guards unmatched under Heaven? Why didn't you bring them? When my father fought on the battlefield, you were still nursing at home—how dare you pretend to be the Military God before me?"

Li Lang threw a punch—blazing fast.

Even though Shu Feng had been personally trained by Jing Qianying and her martial arts were top-tier, she barely blocked this punch; when her arms were struck, the raw force sent a sharp cry from her lips: "No wonder he's Ming Wang's son—even slender, he's born with monstrous strength!"

Li Lang's martial arts were inherited directly from Ming Wang—Hard Bridge Hard Horse Hard Kung Fu.

To Li Lang, Shu Feng's movements, though rapid, were nothing but flashy, empty flourishes.

Li Lang seized the advantage with one punch, yet did not press forward; instead, he roared at Shu Feng: "I'll give you one last chance—get out of here! I don't hit women!"

Still playing the gentleman now?

Qin Feng was thrilled, gripping Shu Feng's waist tightly, using her as a shield, peering through her armpit at Li Lang: "You don't hit women? Perfect! Shu Feng, hit him!"

Without hesitation, Shu Feng kicked straight at Li Lang's chest.

Li Lang didn't dodge—he absorbed the kick, his heels not even shifting, while Shu Feng was thrown back two steps.

Shu Feng's face turned instantly pale: "He's mastered Hard Qigong—I can't match him."

Qin Feng felt like dying of frustration.

I thought coming here today would just be teaching a brash little brat a lesson.

Who knew we'd kicked an iron plate!

Shu Feng was no match, and Ning Hu was crushed in a corner by dozens of personal guards, beaten senseless, unable to even raise a hand in defense.

In desperation, Qin Feng dodged into the adjacent guest room, had Shu Feng block the door, then flung open the Window and shouted down to the crowd below: "Murder! Help!"

The passersby below stared in shock.

"This… isn't Young Master Qin?"

"Who in all of Jingdu would dare harm Young Master Qin?"

A young man looked up and shouted at Qin Feng: "Young Master Qin, are you joking with us?"