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29: The Aura of Malice
They were far from the city center here, deep in the countryside with only a few isolated farmsteads dotting the landscape, and scarcely a streetlamp to pierce the gloom.
Here, a murder could unfold, unseen by any living soul.
The Mercedes door swung open. Two assassins (trained killers), revolvers clutched in their hands, advanced on Shen Yifei, a driver trailing behind them.
"Well, I've got to hand it to you, kid," one assassin sneered, a mocking grin on his face. "Got some guts, don't you? Didn't even run."
Shen Yifei merely smirked. "Why would I run?"
"Kid, I can't tell if you're truly stupid or just pretending," the other assassin roared, a surge of brutal violence in his voice. "You've got a death wish!"
Shen Yifei's expression instantly hardened. "Were you sent by Qiao Lan (Chee-ow Lan)?"
"Facing death, and you still dare to speak to us like that?" one assassin scoffed.
"Enough talk. Let's get this over with. Miss Qiao is waiting for our report!"
As the words left his lips, the other assassin raised his pistol, regarding Shen Yifei with the same disdain one might give a cockroach. He squeezed the trigger without hesitation.
"Bang!" The gunshot echoed across the open field. In a nearby thicket, a flock of small birds scattered in startled flight.
Incredibly, as the shot rang out, Shen Yifei's figure simply vanished!
"Where is he?!" The two assassins and the driver paled, eyes darting frantically left and right.
"Whoosh!" From the darkness, a silver flash tore through the air.
A dinner knife, impossibly sharp, impaled one assassin through the neck. Blood gushed forth, and he crumpled without even a gasp, dead before he hit the ground!
"He's... he's in the sky!" The driver behind them shrieked, terror contorting his face.
Before his cry could fully register, "Whoosh!" Another dinner knife, and the driver's throat was pierced.
The driver fell, lifeless.
The last assassin's face went ashen with horror. He finally spotted Shen Yifei hovering five or six meters (about 16-20 feet) above the ground, now swooping down towards him.
Panic-stricken, the assassin barely registered how Shen Yifei could be airborne, quickly raising his gun.
Before he could pull the trigger, "Whoosh!" A piercing whistle of displaced air.
"CRACK!" The revolver clutched in the assassin's right hand was impaled by a dinner knife!
Watching his firearm splinter into fragments, the assassin's eyes widened, bulging with disbelief. Was this truly something a human could do?
Shen Yifei descended like a shadow. His hand, transformed into a claw-like grip, clamped around the assassin's throat. He sneered, "I have a few questions. Answer truthfully, or I'll kill you!"
Those casual words, delivered like the whisper of death itself, filled the assassin with absolute terror. His limbs trembled uncontrollably, and he wet himself.
This assassin, for all his brutal experience, had never been so terrified, not even when a gun was pointed at his head.
It was because he felt an incredibly sharp and potent aura of malice (Lìqì – a potent, often dark, spiritual energy or aura of malice) emanating from Shen Yifei!
A dense, almost palpable bloodlust, so profound it was impossible to imagine how many lives this man standing before him had extinguished!
The assassin finally understood why Shen Yifei had dismissed them so easily. Compared to him, they were truly nothing more than insignificant cockroaches underfoot.
"Mercy… Mercy! I… I'll answer!" the assassin stammered, his voice quivering.
Shen Yifei inwardly smirked. Sometimes, a slight display of one's inner malevolence was all it took to make people compliant.
"How many people did Qiao Lan send to kill me?" Shen Yifei asked coolly.
"Two… me and him!" The assassin pointed to himself and the other man lying dead in a pool of blood, his voice still trembling with fear.
"Qiao Lan only wanted me dead, not Su Muqing (Soo Moo-ching)?" Shen Yifei pressed.
"Yes, only you. Miss Qiao specifically told us not to harm Miss Su!"
"Good. My questions are done. Now, call Qiao Lan." Shen Yifei said with indifference.
"Yes, yes, I'll call! Please… spare my life! I was just following orders, I truly never meant to offend you!" the assassin pleaded, panic etched across his face.
"Call her!" Shen Yifei repeated, his face devoid of emotion.
The assassin's eyes were wide as saucers. He swallowed hard, fumbled for his phone, and quickly dialed Qiao Lan's number.
"Doo-doo… Is it done?!" A woman's arrogant voice, laced with anger, crackled from the phone.
As the voice came through the phone, Shen Yifei's right hand tightened imperceptibly.
"CRACK!" The assassin's neck snapped instantly in Shen Yifei's grasp. His body collapsed to the ground, eyes rolling back, lifeless.
A cold glint flashed in Shen Yifei's eyes. As if nothing had happened, he brought the phone to his ear and chuckled. "Naturally, things aren't 'done'. Qiao Lan, the two assassins you sent? I've killed them."
Qiao Lan recoiled, a shiver running through her at the sound of that languid voice. "You!"
Shen Yifei's cold laugh echoed through the line. "It's me. Let's cut to the chase. I'm a fair man, Qiao Lan. If you dare send anyone else to kill me, I'll have no choice but to deal with your son."
The light, almost airy threat that floated from the phone sent a violent shiver down Qiao Lan's spine.
Qiao Lan doted on Qiao Xing (Chee-ow Shing) more than anything. Shen Yifei's direct threat against her son's life genuinely struck fear into her heart.
"You lay a hand on my son, and I'll make sure you die a miserable death!" Qiao Lan roared.
"Oh? I guarantee you'll die long before I do."
With that, Shen Yifei ended the call. He crushed the phone into dust (a display of his extraordinary internal energy or cultivation power), then casually tossed the fragments away.
The metallic dust scattered on the wind.
He had threatened Qiao Xing's life simply because he found it bothersome. If he hadn't made his stance clear, that venomous woman, Qiao Lan, would undoubtedly keep sending assassins after him.
From the trunk of the Mercedes, Shen Yifei retrieved several burlap sacks. It seemed these assassins were no strangers to such grim business.
He stuffed the three bodies into the sacks, then, leaving no trace, cast them into a distant ravine.
Having completed these grim tasks with effortless grace, Shen Yifei turned and walked back towards the small thicket.
Within the car, Su Muqing huddled, surrounded by the gloomy treeline, the howling wind, and the chirping of insects. A wave of fear washed over her, and she secretly prayed for Shen Yifei's safety.
She had heard the gunshot earlier, and her heart had leaped into her throat.
Despite her anxiety, Su Muqing's thoughts had cleared considerably.
If these truly were assassins sent by Qiao Lan, it had to be because Shen Yifei had acted against her and her son earlier. Qiao Lan, enraged, must have sent killers to deal with him.
Su Muqing silently cursed herself for being foolish. If only she had intervened, Shen Yifei wouldn't have been in mortal danger.
Although she didn't like the man, she didn't want to be the villain in this story.
Just as she was about to get up, she heard footsteps.
Su Muqing's heart hammered against her ribs. She ducked beneath the seat, calling out softly, "Shen Yifei, is that you?"
No reply.
Su Muqing's delicate face went stark white, a potent surge of fear rising within her.
"Shen—"
Before she could finish, Shen Yifei's head suddenly popped up from outside the car window. He grinned, making a comical face at Su Muqing.
"Ah!" Su Muqing shrieked, her features paling with shock.
After a moment of startled disorientation, she realized it was Shen Yifei. Her face flushed crimson, and she gasped for air, her chest heaving rapidly beneath her dress. "Shen Yifei, you scoundrel! Why would you scare me like that?!"
Seeing the woman's pitiful expression, Shen Yifei found it amusing. He chuckled, "Miss Su, you look rather charming when you're like this."
"You…"
Su Muqing's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and she couldn't find the words to reply.
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