Lín Hǔ's eyes were filled with absolute disbelief as a torrent of blood gushed from his neck like a broken dam. A muffled, guttural sound escaped his throat, and any words he might have uttered dissolved into helpless, bloody foam.
Instinctively, he lashed out with a single palm strike, driving Lěng Yè back, then scrambled frantically to plug the four fatal wounds on his neck, but every effort was in vain.
Duan Lang, standing by in reserve, watched the scene with a jolt of astonishment, quietly lowering the flying knife he had readied. Inside the car, Xiong Yujiao wore a look of profound shock, her assessment of Lěng Yè undergoing an instant transformation. "I clearly underestimated him."
Lěng Yè clenched his teeth and struggled to his feet from the ground, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with a fierce swipe. His eyes flickered with a cold, mocking glint. "You are nothing much!"
During his clash with Lěng Yè, he had known all too well that relying solely on a temporarily boosted cultivation level would not guarantee victory, and the secret technique came with a heavy price; if he failed to strike down his enemy in a single blow, the consequences would be unthinkable. Therefore, he had chosen to endure, feigning unconsciousness until he could seize the optimal moment.
The secret technique he had employed was known as the Blood Sacrifice Art, which traded vital blood for an explosive surge of power. Although it inflicted relatively minor physical damage, it remained perilous without immediate medicinal recuperation.
Lín Hǔ's eyes were filled with lingering resentment and fury, yet the draining away of his life left him powerless to turn the tide. Finally, he collapsed in despair, his hand reaching out limply toward Lěng Yè before growing completely still.
Knowing it was unwise to act rashly in his current state, and terrified that Lín Hǔ might be faking his death to launch a counterattack while his stamina was utterly depleted, Lěng Yè stumbled away toward the perimeter of the park.
He had barely taken a few steps when a violent agony erupted from his chest, causing him to vomit a mouthful of blood. He collapsed to the ground on the spot and lost consciousness.
Duan Lang looked toward Xiong Yujiao and asked, "Sister Jiāo, he is grievously wounded and on the verge of death. It's obvious he used some sort of secret technique to temporarily boost his strength, which puts an immense strain on the body. If he isn't treated immediately, he probably won't survive. Should we save him?"
A playful curve touched the corner of Xiong Yujiao's lips as her interest in Lěng Yè deepened further. She nodded. "Bring him to my place."
Duan Lang complied, placing the unconscious Lěng Yè into the trunk of the car and driving away.
Not long after, a youth discovered Lín Hǔ's corpse by the lake and, in a panic, called the police. The Enforcement Bureau intervened swiftly, and because the case involved an internal energy martial artist, it drew a high level of attention.
The Enforcement Bureau was a mysterious organization dedicated to monitoring the behavior of martial artists and preventing the abuse of martial prowess; to ordinary citizens, it was virtually unknown.
Liáng Fānghuá of the Enforcement Bureau—a spirited woman hailed as the "Bureau Belle" of the local branch office—arrived at the scene promptly after receiving the report. She scrutinized Lín Hǔ's body, particularly the four startling finger-hole wounds, her brows knitted in a deep frown.
*Lín Hǔ, a Fifth Stage of Internal Energy martial artist, actually met his end here. The killer is no ordinary person,* she thought to herself, her tone carrying an unyielding determination that could not be taken lightly. *To be so ruthless—this murderer must be an extreme felon. How dare they stir up trouble on my turf! I will capture them with my own hands!*
She ordered a comprehensive investigation, swearing to bring the perpetrator to justice.
Two days later, inside a secluded villa in the suburbs, Lěng Yè slowly regained consciousness to find himself lying in a luxuriously decorated bedroom, an IV drip running into his arm.
He forced himself up, though the searing pain in his chest nearly made him black out again. Realizing the severity of his injuries, he immediately began circulating his inner energy to regulate his breathing, using Spiritual Energy to soothe the agony. As time passed, his physical condition gradually improved; he pulled out the needle and slowly made his way toward the door.
"Where is this?" In his memories, he had lost consciousness right after defeating Lín Hǔ, and everything after that was a blank.
*Did someone save me?* The interior of the villa was quaint and elegant, adorned with classical paintings and exquisite embroidery, alongside a few sets of gorgeous Hanfu garments. Clearly, the owner was passionately fond of classical culture and possessed refined tastes.
Lěng Yè looked around, confirming that the villa was empty, which only deepened his perplexity.
"The only people I know who own such a villa are Gāo Yán and Liáng Xīn, but neither of them cares for classical aesthetics. Who on earth could have saved me?"
Just as he was pondering this, an urge to urinate struck him, and he hurriedly set off to find the restroom.
Pushing open the door to a faux-antique boudoir, he accidentally blundered into a room laid out like an ancient bathing chamber. Inside a circular wooden tub, a beautiful woman was bathing amidst flower petals—an unexpected encounter that locked their gazes together in that exact moment.