Sensing the other party's hostile intent, Ning Yuanshu turned pale with alarm. A flash of light flickered beneath his feet as his body prepared to dart backward in retreat.
But how could he possibly get away?
Yang Kai had already reached out and seized his collar, then raised his other hand and began delivering slaps across that handsome face — left, right, left, right.
Crack, crack, crack…
After a flurry of crisp smacks, Ning Yuanshu was thoroughly stunned.
By the time Yang Kai withdrew his hand, both of Ning Yuanshu's cheeks had swollen up grotesquely, resembling a pig's head that had been soaked in water for several days.
Every martial artist standing nearby had fallen deathly silent. One by one they turned to stare, their expressions filled with shock and horror.
Though Yang Kai had previously gone on a rampage inside the Qin family, killing the vice master of the Evil Moon Valley and injuring a middle-aged man, neither Qu Huairen nor that middle-aged man had been particularly distinguished in origin. Their sects had no Emperor Venerable Realm powerhouses whatsoever, so as long as Yang Kai was strong enough, he needn't worry about any retaliation.
But Ning Yuanshu was different. He was the Young Palace Master of the Flying Saint Palace.
Among a crowd of lesser organizations, the Flying Saint Palace was considered quite a formidable sect. Ning Yuanshu's father, Ning Boyang, was a first-level Emperor Venerable Realm powerhouse, and the sect boasted numerous strong fighters — not to mention the two great protectors, Gaoshan and Liushui, stationed right here on site.
Now that the Young Palace Master had been beaten like this, how could the Flying Saint Palace possibly let the matter rest?
At the thought of this, the gazes the crowd directed at Yang Kai carried not only deep wariness but also a hint of schadenfreude. They figured this fellow was reckless beyond bounds and was bound to bring catastrophe upon himself.
"You… you… you dare hit me?" Ning Yuanshu, still dangling in Yang Kai's grip with his cheeks badly swollen — the pain so intense it had gone nearly numb — stared wide-eyed at Yang Kai and mumbled through puffy lips.
Yang Kai let out a derisive snort. "Whether I dare or not, haven't I already done it?"
"This Young Master is…"
"Yes, yes, the Young Palace Master of the Flying Saint Palace, I know!" As he spoke, Yang Kai delivered another barrage of slaps, then turned to Qin Chaoyang with a grin. "This guy's a riot — getting beaten and still not forgetting to announce his own title. As if he hasn't lost enough face already."
With that, he hoisted Ning Yuanshu high above his head and called out cheerfully: "Come, come, everyone take a good look! This here is none other than the famous Young Palace Master of the Flying Saint Palace, Ning Yuanshu! Commit this face to memory — you'll want to take a detour if you ever see him again."
Every martial artist nearby broke out in a cold sweat on their foreheads, thinking: He's been beaten into a pig's head — how could anyone possibly make out what he looks like?
"Ugh—" At those words, the blood rushed to Ning Yuanshu's head, and he spat out a mist of blood.
He had come from a distinguished background and had been coddled since childhood. When had he ever suffered such humiliation? And now, under the eyes of every person present, Yang Kai had slapped him not once but twice. He had nearly fainted from rage — only managing to spitting up blood was actually a testament to his considerable mental fortitude.
Qin Chaoyang could only smile bitterly, at a complete loss for what to say to Yang Kai, secretly marveling at how vigorous young blood truly was. High-spirited and bursting with boldness — come to think of it, hadn't he been exactly the same in his youth?
Whoosh, whoosh—
Two streaks of fleeing light came hurtling toward them from ahead. Within those streaks, the arrivals' auras were noticeably disheveled, as though they had just come through some fierce battle.
"Ah… Young Palace Master!" The two lights screeched to a halt not far in front of Yang Kai and the others, revealing the figures of Gaoshan and Liushui, the two great protectors.
At this moment, both of these Flying Saint Palace elders looked utterly wretched. Their white hair and beards were a tangled mess, and their robes were torn and tattered in numerous places. Gaoshan clutched a guqin-shaped Artifact against his chest, its glow dim and subdued — its spiritual nature had clearly sustained some damage. Liushui had a flute tucked at his waist that was in a similar state.
For reasons unknown, the two had come from the opposite direction. Upon seeing Ning Yuanshu's current state, both of them were stricken with alarm.
"Left and Right Protectors…" The moment Ning Yuanshu spotted Gaoshan and Liushui, a terrifying gleam shot from his eyes, and he snarled through gritted teeth: "Avenge this Young Master at once! Kill this brat!"
"Was it you who struck him?" Gaoshan's eyes turned cold as he glared at Yang Kai and demanded an answer.
Liushui said nothing, his face dark as a storm cloud. He silently drew the long flute from his waist, and source power erupted across his body.
Yang Kai paid the two old men no heed whatsoever. He merely narrowed his eyes and peered past them. After a moment, his brows suddenly drew tight together, and his expression turned solemn.
"Let go, boy!" Seeing that Yang Kai was unmoved, Gaoshan flew into a rage and bellowed. Simultaneously, Liushui's figure flickered, and he materialized beside Yang Kai in the blink of an eye. The long flute Artifact in his hand thrust forward in a precise strike aimed at Yang Kai's wrist.
"Brother Yang, watch out!" Qin Chaoyang cried out in alarm.
With his cultivation and perception, he hadn't even managed to see how Liushui had closed the distance, and his warning came a fraction too late.
Yang Kai simply burst out laughing, completely unconcerned with Liushui's attack. Still holding Ning Yuanshu aloft, he spun around and planted the Young Palace Master directly in the path of the incoming strike.
Liushui's brows furrowed, and he had no choice but to abort mid-strike. His figure shot backward, retreating once more to Gaoshan's side.
Gaoshan's face was grim. One hand slowly strummed the guqin held against his chest, and a clear, resonant melody instantly unfurled, radiating outward in all directions. The nearby martial artists, upon hearing this music, each saw their expressions change drastically as they scrambled to circulate their source power and seal their ears.
"Boy, what grudge could the Flying Saint Palace possibly hold against you, that you would lay such vicious hands upon our Young Palace Master?" Gaoshan questioned even as he continued to play.
"No idea," Yang Kai replied, holding Ning Yuanshu in front of him as a shield and poking half his head out from behind the Young Palace Master with a cheeky, mischievous grin. "You'll have to ask your Young Palace Master about that. He attacked me out of nowhere — I was just fighting back."