Supremely Talented Tyrant

Liang Jiankun dared not make a peep, for he feared ending up like Kong Xiaozhen.

At this moment, both their complexions were quite peculiar; Liang's face was flushed with restrained anger, whereas Kong's was the pallor of exhaustion.

"Hao Jian, I swear, I will make you wish you were dead!" Kong Xiaozhen said through gritted teeth, his narrow phoenix eyes shooting cold daggers. He resembled a man-eating beast, with only one thought: to devour Hao Jian.

Hao Jian had knocked his crown off and then trampled him underfoot, an act that filled Kong Xiaozhen with boundless resentment.

However, before he could finish speaking, a hand reached out and pressed down on Kong Xiaozhen's head, forcibly bending him at the waist.

"Puh!"

Kong Xiaozhen's face was pushed down into the very filth he had vomited.

"OH! SHIT!" a blond foreigner exclaimed with a twisted expression, clearly disgusted by the spectacle before him.

"Ha? What did you say? I! Can't! Hear! You!" Hao Jian said, pressing down on Kong Xiaozhen's head with one hand and shaking his head in a most provocatively annoying manner.

"Eh~" Explore new worlds at My Virtual Library Empire

The aristocrats also grimaced, showing extreme disgust.

Liang Jiankun's eyebrows twitched uncontrollably. At this time, he was truly thankful he had kept his mouth shut; otherwise, he would have ended up in the same embarrassing position as Kong Xiaozhen.

This kid has gone mad, definitely stark raving mad. He's completely burned his bridges with the Kong family. If the Kong family lets Hao Jian off, Liang would write his own name backwards.

Everyone's expressions said they were thoroughly shocked by Hao Jian's audacity. How was this different from killing someone, disgracing a favored son of heaven like this?

"Young Master!"

Just then, hearing the commotion inside, all of the Kong family bodyguards charged in. Seeing Hao Jian treating Kong Xiaozhen this way, they couldn't help but fly into a rage.

"Let go of the Young Master!" a bodyguard bellowed as he charged over, throwing a punch at Hao Jian's face.

Hao Jian gave a cold smile and replied with a kick, sending the bodyguard flying and crashing into a table, where he scattered glasses and dishes all over the floor.

"Duke Bartley, please, ask him to stop. If this continues, my Jinxiu Villa will be ruined," Lin Yuanhui, who had just walked in and seen the scene, pleaded with a mournful face.

If Hao Jian set this precedent, surely more and more people would come to his place to fight and cause trouble.

And with this guy's destructive power, it was possible he could smash the whole of Jinxiu Villa to pieces.

However, Bartley merely shrugged his shoulders and said helplessly, "Sorry, once Jian gets going, not even I can stop him. You can only pray he doesn't get too angry; otherwise, your villa is definitely going to be reduced to ruins."

Upon hearing this, Lin Yuanhui rolled his eyes and fainted on the spot.

The day's events had been too thrilling, and his system finally short-circuited under the strain.

Lin Yuanhui's men screamed as they ran to his aid, while Bartley helplessly shrugged his shoulders and turned his gaze back to the center of the room.

By this time, all of Kong Xiaozhen's bodyguards had been taken down by Hao Jian, lying scattered around on the ground.

"Old Man Yan!"

Just then, Kong Xiaozhen, gathering all his strength, lifted his face smeared with filth and blood and bellowed hysterically.

"Waa ya ya ya... I have arrived!"

No sooner had Kong Xiaozhen finished than a loud, weird howl followed. A yellow-robed old man leaped out of the crowd, brandishing a strangely shaped fishing rod.

His face was painted with the make-up of a scheming villain from Beijing opera; he hopped thrice on the spot and pointed straight at Hao Jian, shouting in the singing style of the opera, "Who is the scoundrel daring to harm the Kong Family's Young Master? You infuriate me..."

Hao Jian was stunned, Shu Ya was stunned, everyone was stunned. Where did this opera singer come from?

"Who is this old guy? Is he here to make jokes?" Someone asked incredulously. How did a performer suddenly appear out of nowhere?

"Don't you know? He's a Grandmaster hired by the Kong Family for a hefty sum. He can scale walls and capture tigers, and it's said he's a Sect Leader of a certain clan, having agreed to serve the Kong Family in return for a previous favor from the old master," someone else responded, apparently aware of this mysterious elder's reputation.

"So why is he dressed like that, like an opera singer? Isn't it a bit too pretentious?"

"What do you know? Old Man Yan enjoys opera, especially Beijing opera. He combined it with Martial Arts, creating his own Martial Drama Fist, unbeatable in Baiyue, quite remarkable indeed."

"Combining drama with Martial Arts? This old man really knows his stuff!"

The guests chattered about Old Man Yan, and Hao Jian also learned a bit about the old man's identity and background from their conversation.

Old Man Yan? Hao Jian rubbed his chin thoughtfully, it seemed he had also heard of this fellow.

After all, Old Man Yan's name did boast some fame in the Martial Arts circles of Huaxia, as he was considered a genius in Martial Arts for being able to integrate drama into Martial Arts, something unprecedented.

"Play actor, sing 'The Release of Su San' for your master," Hao Jian sneered, really treating Old Man Yan like an opera singer.

"Damn you, shameless youngster, to mock me like this! Today I do not tear you to shreds, my name is not Yan!" Old Man Yan howled furiously—it was not just the insult of being called a play actor, but the demand to sing 'The Release of Su San'? How could he, a grown man, sing women's roles? This bastard was clearly making a fool of him!

"Can't do 'The Release of Su San'? What about 'Drunken Concubine'? 'General Mu Guiying Takes Command'? None of them? What good are you, wasting all that gear?" Hao Jian exclaimed in a way that could enrage people to death.

Old Man Yan shivered all over; all those plays Hao Jian rattled off were women's roles—what was the point? Old Man Yan, frustrated, yelled, "Shameless brat, have the guts to request a man's opera! Pah, opera my foot; I'm here for a fight!"

Old Man Yan was so angered by Hao Jian that he had lost his bearings—what was meant to be a fight was being derailed into a performance.

"Old Man Yan, have you finished your nonsense?" Kong Xiaozhen was so angry he nearly vomited blood. "Just kill this brat and be done with it—what's with all this jabbering? Are we playing around?"

"Damn it, kid, for injuring our Young Master and insulting me, your life is forfeit!" Scolded by Kong Xiaozhen, Old Man Yan felt a surge of fury. He stomped his foot, the ground beneath cracking open as dust and debris shot into the air.

Old Man Yan's figure charged violently, his foot having left a huge crater in the ground.

"OH, MY GOD! Is this Huaxia Kung Fu? It's astounding!" The foreigners were stupefied, having heard that Huaxia Kung Fu was no trifling matter. They thought those martial arts moves were just movie special effects until they witnessed the real thing today.

Hearing the exclamations of the crowd, Old Man Yan grew even prouder. With a vicious expression, he swung the fishing rod with a blade attached toward Hao Jian, bellowing, "You little wretch, die!"

At that moment, he was less than two meters from Hao Jian.

Hao Jian chuckled coldly, lashing out fiercely with his foot: "Get lost!"

Thud!

The swift kick, as quick as a flash of lightning, struck Old Man Yan right in the face.

Old Man Yan never expected Hao Jian's kick to be so rapid, and he hadn't even managed to react before it was already in front of him.

Then, everyone saw the once-fearsome and charging Old Man Yan rolling backward at a speed too fast to track with the naked eye, slamming into a wall and embedding his head into it.

"GOD!" The foreigners gasped, shocked. How could he not be dead after such a hit?

They had not expected Old Man Yan, who appeared so formidable moments before, to be floored so easily.

Kong Xiaozhen too looked utterly shocked. He knew too well how strong Old Man Yan was, considering him as quite possibly the strongest in Hua City.

Yet such a figure had been kicked away by Hao Jian?

Old Man Yan pulled his head out of the wall, his face red with rage and humiliation. He had never been so insulted his entire life.

Old Man Yan glared viciously at Hao Jian, his murky eyes saturated with fierce bloodshot veins, imparting a particularly frightening appearance.

By then, the hitherto-hidden Night Emperor appeared, guarding in front of Liang Jiankun, on high alert as he oversaw Hao Jian.

Now that Old Man Yan had attacked, the Night Emperor could no longer afford to observe from behind, especially since Hao Jian had already injured Kong Xiaozhen and Old Man Yan, which meant he could potentially harm Liang Jiankun as well. He had to protect his master.

"The one who spied on me in the dark last time—that was you, wasn't it?" Hao Jian said, looking at the Night Emperor with some disdain.

Beneath the mask, the Night Emperor's face registered shock. This guy had known all along. But if he was aware of the spying, why hadn't he exposed him?

"Because you're not worth it..." Hao Jian seemed to guess the Night Emperor's doubts, suddenly breaking into a smile.

"What did you say?" The Night Emperor asked with a furrowed brow, his voice growing deeper.

"What I mean is you're not worthy to be my enemy. To me, you're just a fly. As long as you don't buzz in my ear, I can't be bothered with you," Hao Jian explained.

Upon hearing this, the Night Emperor's face turned livid with anger. The famed Night Emperor, a world-renowned mercenary, was being compared to a fly—it was an insult!

"Come at me together, don't say I'm bullying the weak!"

Hao Jian gestured mockingly at the Night Emperor and Old Man Yan, his words laden with insult.

Both Night Emperor and Old Man Yan's faces darkened. At their level, they scorned the idea of joining forces, for they possessed the pride of the strong.

But Hao Jian was prompting them to act together, clearly looking down on them.

"Clang!"

The Night Emperor whipped out a blood-red folding sickle, the blade a brilliant scarlet with a shining silver edge, glinting with a harrowing sharpness that could incite terror in the heart.

The Night Emperor snorted coldly, "My sickle is five feet three inches long and weighs ninety-seven pounds and eight ounces. Made of Ultra-Hardened Steel Alloy, its impact rivals the bite of a Tyrannosaurus rex—with one touch, death; with a knock, injury. Be careful!"