Chapter 2: Farce at the Funeral

Cao Mang drove skillfully to the Duan residence, but did not hurry to get out of the car. He reached out and gently stroked Gao Yanhong’s shoulder-length wavy hair.

In the spacious courtyard, a mourning hall was being set up. Qiu Yurou, dressed in a black gauze dress, accepted condolences with a sorrowful expression, a tall, straight-bodied bodyguard standing protectively behind her.

She was unmistakably a stunning beauty, her delicate oval face showing traces of fatigue, evoking a frail charm reminiscent of Lin Daiyu. Coupled with the refined aura of a lady from a prominent family, she easily stirred a man’s protective instincts.

Though her figure wasn’t as voluptuous as Gao Yanhong’s, she was still attractively slender, tall and gracefully lean.

Cao Mang narrowed his eyes, recognizing the bodyguard as Qiu Yurou’s lover—his name was Ye Bufan. He was the one who had severely injured Duan Xingyu on his wedding night.

Since things had already turned hostile, Qiu Zhenhu finally had to eliminate future threats entirely, making Duan Xingyu’s death appear as an accidental drowning while bathing after drinking.

Gao Yanhong coughed, raising her head. She had already fished Duan Xingyu’s phone out of his pocket, used his thumbprint to unlock it, found the video, and hurriedly deleted it.

After tossing the phone back to him, she wanted to curse, but spotted a spirited old man approaching and quickly shrank back.

The old man was the Qiu family’s steward, called Elder Yang. He had served three generations of the Qiu family and managed their loyal warriors.

He glanced disdainfully at Gao Yanhong. “This is not a place you should be. Get out of here right now.”

He then looked at Cao Mang. “Take the meat inside.”

Gao Yanhong simmered with anger, knowing she was a lover who must stay out of sight, but dared not protest.

Cao Mang hauled over a hundred pounds of smoked meat from the trunk and strode directly toward the busy kitchen, immediately attracting numerous stares.

He was simply too conspicuous—over two meters tall, muscles bulging all over, like a human-shaped beast.

Yet he had an honest, wooden baby face, with soft, fair skin, creating a strikingly odd contrast with his physique.

Passing through the hall, he saw Qiu Zhenhu and his wife—a classic case of an older man with a much younger wife.

Qiu Zhenhu, nearly fifty, had lost his first wife to illness more than a decade ago. Three years prior, he married his daughter’s best friend, which became the talk of the town.

Cao Mang only glanced briefly, focusing instead on the bodyguards—survivors of the previous generation of loyal warriors. Few remained now.

According to Duan Xingyu’s investigation, Qiu Zhenhu was ruthless—once a notorious playboy. After his father died, he vied for the family estate, killed his older brother, and imprisoned his sister-in-law and niece.

If he succeeded in annexing the Duan family’s assets, he would become one of the city’s four great clans, controlling the entire southern district.

Depositing the smoked meat in the kitchen, Cao Mang strode outside, seeing Qiu Yurou quarreling with a woman whose face resembled that of a fox.

The fox-faced woman was Ye Xingmei, one of Duan Xingyu’s confidantes. Because the Duan and Ye families were enemies, the two could not be joined in marriage.

“It was absolutely you who caused Xingyu’s death…”

Ye Xingmei raised her hand to slap Qiu Yurou, but Ye Bufan quickly stepped in, grabbing her wrist.

“Sister, don’t make a scene. Behave yourself in public.”

“Let go! Who are you calling sister? You’re nothing but an unacknowledged bastard.”

Ye Xingmei kicked out at him. Hearing the word ‘bastard,’ Ye Bufan’s face darkened, and he flung her aside. Caught off guard, she fell to the ground.

Her four bodyguards rushed forward. The female bodyguard helped her up, while the other three charged at Ye Bufan.

“Courting death!”

Ye Bufan was a retired king of soldiers, seasoned by battle and exuding lethal intent. He swiftly and decisively knocked all three bodyguards to the ground.

Ye Xingmei, furious, cried, “You filthy pair! Just wait—I’ll make sure you suffer for this…”

Her female bodyguard hustled her away, while Cao Mang acted as if he hadn’t seen a thing and continued onward.

“Hey, you there! Stop!”

Ye Bufan called out in a low voice. Cao Mang had no idea he meant him and kept walking.

“Are you deaf?”

Ye Bufan darted behind him, knowing Cao Mang was responsible for Duan Xingyu’s drowning. He wanted to ask if the man had left any last words, so he reached to slap Cao Mang’s shoulder.

Cao Mang was so tall that Ye Bufan had to stretch his arm high and use considerable force.

But before he could touch Cao Mang’s shoulder, Cao Mang shot his arm backwards and seized Ye Bufan’s wrist. Ye Bufan suddenly felt himself lifted uncontrollably into the air.

“Bang!”

Ye Bufan was swung and slammed hard onto the ground, the tiles of the courtyard cracking beneath the impact.

“Crack!”

A sickening sound of bone breaking followed. Ye Bufan let out a piercing scream—his right arm was twisted, the bone snapped.

Cao Mang was not finished; he aimed a kick at Ye Bufan’s head.

“Stop!”

Qiu Yurou threw herself over Ye Bufan. Cao Mang almost wanted to kick her as well, but had to restrain himself.

He scratched his head sheepishly. “Miss, I didn’t mean to. He attacked first, I just reacted instinctively…”

Everyone present was stunned. Ye Bufan had just shown off by defeating three Ye family bodyguards, and now he was being thrashed so easily?

Qiu Yurou, who hadn’t cried even after her husband’s death, now wept like pear blossoms in the rain, angrily pointing at Cao Mang.

“How dare you hurt Bufan! Are you all blind? Seize him!”

Several Qiu family bodyguards surged forward, eager to see just how formidable the strongest of the new generation of loyal warriors truly was.

“Stand down…”

At the family head’s command, the bodyguards all withdrew.

Qiu Yurou, however, was not appeased. “Father, he attacked Bufan, disobeying his superiors…”

“Enough! He acted out of self-defense—Bufan’s own lack of skill is to blame. Do you want to embarrass us even more?”

Ye Bufan endured the pain and stood, clutching his broken arm to reassure her. “Yurou, I’m fine. Just got careless.”

Qiu Zhenhu looked at Cao Mang, his eyes full of appreciation, then his expression turned cold.

“Throw this Ye bastard out.”

“No…”

As Qiu Yurou cried out in protest, Cao Mang acted, kicking Ye Bufan out without hesitation.

Ye Bufan thought he’d only lost because he was caught off guard; his eyes burned with fury as he raised his leg to counterattack, intent on violently dispatching his opponent.

“Bang!”

Their legs collided fiercely, shockwaves rippling, pants splitting.

Ye Bufan’s leg was kicked aside, his body stumbling backwards. Cao Mang lunged forward, fist raised.

Qiu Yurou wrapped her arms around his waist. “Bufan, hurry and run…”

Ye Bufan’s right leg could no longer support him; he roared in frustration as several young men dragged him away.

These young men were his recent friends, and had even made him their leader.

“Let me go! I’ll kill him…”

Ye Bufan could have broken free, but took the opportunity to escape, not wanting to be beaten so badly he couldn’t fight back—his invincible image would be utterly shattered.

“Miss, may I go now?”

Cao Mang’s emotionless voice came. Qiu Yurou suddenly realized her posture was unseemly.

She quickly released him and punched him several times, but it felt like hitting a stone—her hands turned red.

“I won’t let this go.”

She wanted to check on Ye Bufan, worried about his injury, but two female bodyguards dragged her back to her room.

After all, the funeral was not yet over. If a widow rushed so eagerly to her lover, it would bring enormous shame if word got out.