Chapter 74: Grandson, you really know how to play!

The assassin’s name was Ge Ying.

He was a fifth-rank Martial Master, ranked forty-fifth on the Dark Web—five places higher than the old assassin from last time. Not only was he ruthless and vicious, but he was also depraved, with a penchant for torturing women.

Now, seeing Song Yalan so stunning and radiant, his wicked thoughts could not be suppressed. What were fifty million compared to a night of pleasure? Besides, once he had Song Yalan in his grasp, it would be all too easy to have both the money and the woman.

Song Yalan sensed she might have invited a wolf into her home. The look Ge Ying gave her was as predatory as the one Chu Fei had once cast upon her. As a beautiful woman well aware of her own charms, she understood perfectly what that gaze meant.

“Ge Ying, I’m your employer—you’d better behave yourself and not try anything!” Song Yalan forced herself to sound threatening, but it was futile. How could a lone, vulnerable woman possibly intimidate him?

“As the saying goes, women at thirty are like wolves, at forty like tigers, and at fifty, they settle for dust,” Ge Ying leered, rubbing his hands together, drool almost dripping from his lips. “President Song, I heard your husband’s been dead for half a year now. You must be longing for a man—let me satisfy you!”

Hearing such brazen words, Song Yalan sprang up and shouted, “If you dare lay a finger on me, I won’t let you get away with it!”

Ge Ying’s lecherous appearance disgusted her. If he touched her, death would be preferable.

“I’d like to see how you’ll stop me,” Ge Ying advanced on her, step by step. “There are only two of us here—where do you think you can run?”

Song Yalan’s face paled with terror as she scrambled to keep her distance. “I’m warning you—don’t come any closer!” she cried.

But Ge Ying was in no hurry. Instead, he turned to his suitcase, drew out a black whip, and stared at Song Yalan with gleeful anticipation.

The sight of it made Song Yalan realize at once that Ge Ying was a complete psychopath. If she fell into his hands, she’d be tortured to death.

Regret washed over her. If she’d known it would come to this, she might as well have given in to Chu Fei earlier that night. At least he was a handsome, strong young man—not a repulsive wretch like Ge Ying.

“President Song, I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of—you’ll never want to leave my side!” Ge Ying brandished the whip, herding Song Yalan into a corner. His pockmarked face and twisted features made her want to vomit. She’d rather die than let him touch her.

In panic, she screamed, “If you come one step closer, I’ll smash my head against the wall right here!”

Ge Ying laughed maniacally, swinging the whip for intimidation. Just as Song Yalan steeled herself for death, Ge Ying suddenly fell to his knees before her with a thud.

“…Punish me! My queen!” he pleaded.

“…What???” Song Yalan was momentarily petrified.

Ge Ying pressed the whip into her hands, urging her on. “What are you waiting for? Whip me!”

She was utterly dumbfounded. “So… this is what you’re into?”

Truly, a toad courting a frog—ugly and full of tricks.

Ge Ying kept pleading for her to lash him. Song Yalan came to her senses: she knew some men liked this sort of thing. But whipping him didn’t mean he’d let her go; if anything, it might only encourage him further.

As she hesitated, a lazy voice sounded from behind Ge Ying.

“Well, aren’t you something, you pervert—you really know how to play,” it drawled.

Song Yalan looked toward the voice. Chu Fei stood there, hands in his pockets, watching with an expression of malicious glee.

To her, it was like grasping at a lifeline. She cried out, “Help me!”

“Why should I help you?” Chu Fei pointed at Ge Ying. “Let me guess, this ugly bastard’s the hitman you hired to kill me, isn’t he? You try to have me killed and now you want me to save you—don’t you have any shame?”

Song Yalan snapped, “Well, if you hadn’t kept doing those things to me over and over, I wouldn’t have wanted revenge!”

“Fine, then go ahead and reward him—I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show.” Chu Fei looked on, unconcerned.

“You bastard!” Song Yalan shouted. “Are you really just going to stand there and watch him defile me?”

“How could I? I’ll be sure to close my eyes,” Chu Fei replied, feigning innocence.

Enraged, Song Yalan actually brought the whip down on Ge Ying.

Under normal circumstances, Ge Ying would have cried out in pleasure, but with Chu Fei present—and Song Yalan clearly doing it out of spite—the whole situation soured for him.

So I’m just some prop in your twisted game?

How could he stand for that?

He glared at Chu Fei. “You must be that bastard Chu Fei. Now that you’ve met Grandmaster Ge, prepare to die!”

Chu Fei’s voice was calm. “You’d better get yourself ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“For your final appearance—so you won’t look too ugly when you die.”

Never before had Ge Ying encountered someone so brazen before him—everyone else who dared had been killed. Enraged, he laughed. “Very well. I’ll kill you first, you arrogant whelp!”

With that, Ge Ying lunged at Chu Fei, his aura surging.

Seeing this, Song Yalan was terrified. If Chu Fei died, she’d be doomed as well.

She shouted, “Be careful! He’s a fifth-rank Martial Master—he’s not easy to deal with—”

But before she could finish, Chu Fei simply reached out and seized the onrushing Ge Ying by the throat.

A mocking smile played on Chu Fei’s lips. “My, my, you’re getting all riled up.”

Ge Ying’s eyes went wide as he felt an overwhelming force flood his body—far beyond what he could withstand. With a deafening bang, he was reduced to a drifting mist of blood.

Song Yalan stared at Chu Fei in disbelief.

Chu Fei leisurely picked up a tissue from the table and wiped his hands, then looked at her nonchalantly.

“What were you saying just now?”

“N-nothing…” Song Yalan’s beautiful eyes were filled with awe. A fifth-rank Martial Master had just been crushed with one hand. How terrifyingly strong was this man?

“Why are you still standing there? Clean up the mess, and make me a cup of tea,” Chu Fei said, sprawling carelessly on the sofa. Though Ge Ying’s blood had splattered everywhere, not a drop had touched him.

Song Yalan dared not disobey. She fetched a mop from the bathroom and cleaned up the blood, then obediently brewed a cup of tea and handed it to Chu Fei.

Chu Fei was now rummaging through Ge Ying’s suitcase, looking quite interested in its contents. When Song Yalan brought the tea, he quipped, “You didn’t poison it, did you?”

“Yes, I did. Hope you die,” Song Yalan replied, setting the cup on the table. She sat across from him, not trying to flee—she knew escape was impossible.

After a moment of silence, Song Yalan suddenly said, “Thank you.”

Whatever else could be said, Chu Fei had saved her yet again tonight. If he hadn’t arrived in time, she would have been ruined by Ge Ying.

“No need to thank me,” Chu Fei replied without looking up. “I can’t stand animals who force themselves on women against their will.”

—As if you have any right to say that! Song Yalan cursed inwardly, but didn’t dare voice it.

“But that’s another matter. We still have to settle the score for you hiring someone to kill me,” Chu Fei said, picking up a few odd toys and gazing at Song Yalan with interest. “How about it—shall we play something exciting tonight?”