Chapter 15: Hold Your Tongue

Two hours later, Cao Mang finally came downstairs. He showed not a hint of tenderness; the looks in the eyes of the people below were all filled with shock.

He acted as though nothing had happened and continued with his tattooing. The area to be covered was so large that it couldn’t be finished in one sitting.

It was evening by the time he left the tattoo shop with Qiu Yumeng. The moment she got into the car, she couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Are you really thirty?”

Cao Mang looked puzzled. “I’m eighteen!”

“I wasn’t asking about your age, I meant—wait, you’re only eighteen?”

Cao Mang nodded earnestly. Qiu Yumeng pressed on, “How many deathsworn like you are there?”

“There are seventy-two qualified ones. They’re called the Disha Unit.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Can you teach me how to kill? It must be thrilling!”

Cao Mang was taken aback. Was this something a girl should say?

He didn’t want to pay her any more attention, but Qiu Yumeng was relentless. “If you don’t teach me, I’ll tell my father you molested me. If you agree, there’ll be more rewards like today, and I won’t let my father know.”

Why did she use the same cheap tricks as her sister?

Cao Mang glanced at the rearview mirror, then looked at her sideways before responding, “If you’re looking for a thrill, that’s easy. Do you dare touch a corpse?”

Qiu Yumeng’s eyes blazed. “Why wouldn’t I? When I was little, my father and uncle had a shootout. A lot of people died, and I was right there.”

No wonder her mind was so twisted—she’d been traumatized!

He drove straight to a dog farm on the outskirts. The old man guarding the gate glanced at him and opened the door.

This old man was one of the first generation of deathsworn. Not only had he been stationed here to retire, but he was also responsible for body disposal and cleaning up crime scenes.

They pulled Song Biao’s corpse from the trunk and carried it into the workshop, placing it on a table.

All the clothing was stripped off and tossed into the furnace.

Cao Mang handed Qiu Yumeng a pair of goggles and a steel saw, tied an apron around her, and pointed at a huge meat grinder.

“Do as you see fit,” he said.

Qiu Yumeng seemed very excited, taking a deep breath as she walked over, exclaiming loudly from time to time.

She really was a born demon.

Just then, the old gatekeeper staggered in, covered in blood, collapsing to the ground and gasping weakly, “We’re under attack…”

Cao Mang responded with utter calm, “I know. You can go in peace.”

The old man was confused. He was only injured, not dead yet—shouldn’t someone be helping him?

Infuriated, he demanded, “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. You should have joined your old companions long ago.”

According to Duan Xingyu’s investigation, the Qiu family had three generations of deathsworn. Of the first generation, only four remained. Though retired, they were unwaveringly loyal to the family, and all were on Cao Mang’s must-kill list.

He had sensed someone tailing him when he left the Qiu Corporation headquarters and had deliberately lured them here.

With a cacophony of barking, four masked men burst in, all armed with knives. Well-trained, they made straight for Cao Mang without a word. He was their target.

With a cold snort, Cao Mang sprang forward like a caged tiger, smashing his fist into the foremost attacker’s head. The sound of cracking bone rang out; the man was sent flying, crashing into a companion and knocking them both to the ground.

The other two came at him from either side, but Cao Mang snatched the blades from their hands with a wrench and flung both knives back at them with brutal force.

Even before the bodies hit the ground, he was already in front of the last attacker.

This man hadn’t even gotten up when Cao Mang kicked him in the head, sending him spinning through the air. He hit the ground and rolled several meters before crashing into a wall, his skull crushed and neck twisted by the force.

“That was amazing!” Qiu Yumeng cried out.

Cao Mang absorbed the memories of the four men—they were all under Ye Zhiqiang.

The Ye family wasn’t fully behind Ye Xingmei marrying Qiu Tianyi; there were several rival factions within. They feared Ye Zhien, with the Qiu family’s backing, would become heir.

Cao Mang, as Qiu Tianyi’s bodyguard, and for sabotaging Song Biao’s defection, had become a priority target.

There was little useful information in their memories. As Cao Mang was erasing the useless parts, a scream rang out.

It was Qiu Yumeng, who had picked up a knife and was hacking wildly at the wounded old gatekeeper.

No one knew how many times she struck before she finally stopped, panting.

Clang!

The knife clattered to the floor and she slumped down, her face twisted in a morbidly ecstatic expression.

Cao Mang glanced at her out of the corner of his eye—he hadn’t expected her to turn on her own people. He called Elder Yang to report, blaming the old man’s death on the Ye family and admitting, with apparent candor, that his failure to detect the tail had led to the accident.

He made no mention of Qiu Yumeng being present. After hanging up, he continued to deal with the bodies, and Qiu Yumeng, having recovered, came to help.

Together they carried a basin of minced flesh to the kennels, where hundreds of large, savage dogs were kept.

A car arrived, and a plain-looking young man got out—another of the new generation of deathsworn, who would take over management of the dog farm.

He looked at Cao Mang with respectful awe. “Leave the rest to me.”

“Mind your tongue. Don’t say anything you shouldn’t,” Cao Mang replied.

Then, turning to Qiu Yumeng, who was feeding the dogs, he said, “Let’s go. Aren’t you hungry? Time to eat at home.”

Qiu Yumeng was reluctant to leave. “The bodies aren’t all disposed of yet. Let me finish feeding them first.”

Cao Mang simply hoisted her around his waist and walked out as she struggled.

“Put me down! How dare you!” she shouted.

He stuffed her into the car, and when she started kicking, he couldn’t help but flip her over and give her a few smacks on the thickest part of her lower back—not too hard, lest he injure her.

“You dare strike me? I’ll fight you to the end—” Qiu Yumeng was still yelling, but she collapsed limply across the seat, making strange little noises.

Could she have some unusual proclivities?

Cao Mang smacked her again. Not only did she groan, she wriggled as if encouraging him.

He struck twice more, a bit harder, and only when Qiu Yumeng screamed did he finally close the door.

As the car headed back to the Qiu estate, Qiu Yumeng remained sprawled across the seat, unable to sit up.

“I’ll tell my father you hit me when we get back,” she threatened.

“Do you still want to go out on jobs with me after this?”

Qiu Yumeng’s eyes burned as she nodded vigorously. It was just a prideful bluff. She squeezed through the gap from the back seat, squatting in the front passenger seat, sometimes sneaking glances at Cao Mang, sometimes giggling oddly—a textbook yandere.

The Qiu household was still lively that night, but Qiu Zhentu hadn’t returned and was still working at the company.

Otherwise, Cao Mang wouldn’t have taken Qiu Yumeng out so late.

Qiu Yumeng limped into the villa and immediately called Qiu Zhentu, demanding he assign Cao Mang as her bodyguard.

Qiu Zhentu refused, frustrating her so much she smashed her phone to pieces.

Before long, tension filled the entire estate. Elder Yang had people begin setting up defenses; the atmosphere was one of nervous alert, as if something major had happened.