CHAPTER 23: 23: THE LUNGS ARE ABOUT TO EXPLODE (PART 2)_1

In his dreams, there were scenes of cruel and bloody images. He saw a man lying in a pool of blood, while Zhu Xingfang had a malevolent expression, cursing the man’s corpse incessantly.

Crying and screaming, he got a vicious beating in return.

He woke up with a start.

Tear stains were on the young boy’s face. Just as he was startled, he noticed a figure climbing over the wall into the Zhu family’s yard.

The person moved unsteadily, staggering, but held an axe in his hand, looking like a vengeful spirit.

It was too dark to see the person’s face; he only noticed a head of closely cropped hair.

The boy’s eyes flickered, then he quickly closed them, pretending to be sound asleep.

After Yue Ning snuck into the Zhu family’s home, he glanced at the young boy curled up in the corner, hesitated for a moment, and then emotionlessly ignored him.

Zhu Xingfang was snoring loudly, with her mouth wide open rattling the heavens. In the dim light, the man swung the axe overhead. However, with a clang, just as he was about to smash it down, the axe hit a nearby cabinet, creating a loud noise.

This is bad.

Startled, it was at this moment that Zhu Xingfang let out a loud cry, then quickly scrambled up, gasping frequently as she got up. Her ribs were broken in several places—her survival was a stroke of luck.

The shadow beside the kang was tall and burly, swinging the axe at Zhu Xingfang.

Zhu Xingfang was so frightened that she was beside herself with fear. She grabbed the axe, and then the two struggled violently.

The neighbors were awakened by the noise, and clamor was coming from outside.

Yue Ning’s face darkened.

"Tch!"

He had no choice but to retreat temporarily, so he quickly rushed out of the Zhu family’s home and fled.

"Damn it, the Liang family, Liang Wulang, it must be him. I saw it just now, that man had short hair, and in all the nearby villages, only Liang Wulang has short hair. He was holding an axe—he actually wanted to chop me?"

Zhu Xingfang was greatly frightened, followed by a surge of anger.

"This is outrageous; the Liang family is too bullying!"

Thus, that very night, Zhu Xingfang made a decision. She had people use a wooden plank to carry her out of the village, whimpering on the plank while being accompanied by the young master of her household.

The young master hung his head low, but his eyes were full of resentment.

Good people do not live long; a menace lasts for a thousand years. This Zhu woman had escaped death once again—he really couldn’t reconcile himself to this.

However, when he looked at Zhu Xingfang, he put on a different face—one of compliant timidity. This timid image was his protective color. If he hadn’t been vigilant enough, clever enough, using this appearance to lull Zhu Xingfang into a false sense of security, he might have long since been dead...

When Yue Ning returned, it was already midnight. He looked disheveled and dirty, having fallen several times on the road, his head heavy and foggy.

Earlier at the Zhu family’s, if not for his dizziness and poor judgement, he was sure he could have killed Zhu Xingfang. Unfortunately, a head injury had slowed him down today and allowed Zhu Xingfang to escape death by his axe.

He threw down the axe, tugged at his dirty clothes, and as he entered the house, he saw a small, dark figure sitting on a stool beside the kang, leaning over it, with Yixuan sleeping soundly next to her.

His brows furrowed. Why hadn’t this person gone back to her own room to sleep and instead lingered in their brothers’ room?

"Hey?" he called out, but the little thing slept soundly. He pushed her again, and her small body suddenly fell to the floor. Even so, she didn’t wake up.

He was startled.

What trick was she playing now?

"Yue Ning?"

A low voice suddenly came from behind him. Yue Ning turned around and immediately showed a surprised look: "Fourth brother?"

The person in front of him was tall and sturdy, with a frame high and broad. He stood at 186 centimeters, wearing an old, washed-out black garment with regular and rugged features, as if chiseled by a knife and axe, with distinct edges, emanating a cool and stern authority.