Chapter Forty-Eight: The Arrival of Chen Ziliang

Chapter Forty-Eight: The Arrival of Chen Ziliang

Suddenly, as everyone watched, Shen An, who had been standing idly, made a move. His punch was slow, the motion almost too simple. Zhang Wei didn’t even bother to think about it; he believed he could dodge with ease.

That was what he thought, and that was what he did. Zhang Wei tilted his head slightly.

The fist grew larger in his vision.

He even flashed a smug smile.

Bang!

He felt something slam into the bridge of his nose.

Zhang Wei staggered back several steps. Clutching his nose, his face was filled with disbelief.

The other students watching were stunned. In their eyes, Shen An’s punch should never have landed, yet at the last moment, Zhang Wei seemed to move into the punch himself, as if he deliberately thrust his face toward Shen An’s fist.

Everyone felt it was utterly ridiculous. It was a punch that obviously should have missed, but somehow Zhang Wei’s own movement ensured it landed squarely.

“Eh?” Zhang Wei, still dazed, heard Shen An’s voice.

“What sort of move was that?” Shen An looked at his own fist, feigning innocence.

Lu Jing frowned as well, unable to decipher Zhang Wei’s action.

Rubbing at the pain in his nose, Zhang Wei thought to himself, Luckily, my body has changed, otherwise my face would be ruined by now.

No matter what, an ordinary person like Shen An could never defeat me, Zhang Wei told himself.

With this thought, he sprang into action. Zhang Wei’s speed was impressive; he launched an attack at Shen An, threw a punch, smiled—only to be struck once again.

Everyone was once more dumbfounded.

This time, Zhang Wei appeared formidable, yet his attack seemed almost blind, as if he were swinging at shadows.

Zhang Wei, are you near-sighted? Your opponent is right in front of you and you keep missing, always catching fists with your face instead of landing your own.

This wasn’t a contest at all; it was a complete thrashing.

Looking at Zhang Wei’s muscular physique, no one expected him to be so utterly useless.

Faces around the room showed nothing but disdain.

Zhang Wei felt deeply humiliated. The man before him seemed to possess some magic—why couldn’t he land a single blow?

He was completely baffled.

He got up and kept attacking Shen An. Shen An never once changed position; his movements remained simple, his punches casual, watching Zhang Wei with the kind of compassionate gaze one might reserve for a fool.

“What’s wrong with you, are your eyes defective?” Shen An quipped.

“I mean, I even dodged on purpose, and he still managed to hit me,” Zhang Wei complained.

“It’s not my fault—he’s just looking for trouble!”

“Zhou Wang, you saw that, right? Did you get it on video? Bear witness for me, in case he tries to deny it.”

Before long, Zhang Wei collapsed to the floor, unable to get up.

Shen An settled onto a nearby sofa, sipping coffee. On the adjacent table sat a freshly opened bottle of Louis XIV. Like a drunken reveler, he pulled out the cork and drank straight from the bottle, treating the tens-of-thousands-worth spirit as if it were mere water. Those watching were dumbfounded and, despite themselves, swallowed reflexively.

No one present could fathom the source of his confidence.

After a while, Zhang Wei finally shook off his daze. He saw Shen An sitting there in comfort.

“Shen An, what did you do to me?” he demanded.

Despite his anger, Zhang Wei began to realize something. He had awakened his abilities, but it was clear now that this man was even stronger. Yet Shen An’s strength was entirely inscrutable. He could not understand it.

“How should I know, Young Master Wei? You’re not going to renege, are you? Everyone saw what happened. Are you not going to admit your defeat?”

Every word was like a knife stabbing into Zhang Wei’s heart, leaving him unable to retort.

But the anger in his heart refused to dissipate.

“Fine, tell me what you want—anything.”

“I have no demands. I just hope you won’t bother me again in the future,” Shen An replied, raising his wine glass.

Just then, Shen An’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID—it was Wang Meng.

“Boss, Chen Ziliang is on his way. Be careful. He’s coming for you.” Wang Meng’s voice was weak, as though he’d been hurt.

Shen An quickly extended his senses. He discovered that Wang Meng’s car had been wrecked; Wang Meng was lying on the ground, battered but not fatally injured. Shen An felt slightly relieved.

In that very instant, as Shen An’s perception spread, he sensed another force collide with his own.

He immediately withdrew his senses.

The door to the private lounge was violently flung open.

A man strode in, dressed in fitted attire, exuding a fierce, forbidding aura. He scanned the crowd.

At that moment, Zhang Wei, still fuming with nowhere to vent his rage, spotted the intruder. His eyes blazed.

This gathering was a complete disaster; nothing had gone as he’d hoped.

“Damn it, are you asleep? Who let you in here?”

All his anger transferred to the man who had just burst in.

Without another word, Zhang Wei charged at Chen Ziliang.

Chen Ziliang glanced at Shen An, who was seated calmly, then saw Zhang Wei coming at him, eyes burning with fury. He frowned.

“Out of my way.”

Suddenly, he struck, his aura surging as he threw a punch.

In that moment, fear flashed in Zhang Wei’s eyes. He sensed the immense power of his opponent.

“An Awakened?” Horror gripped him, but he had no choice—he swung his fist.

Bang!

Crack!

Their fists met, and Zhang Wei was sent flying. His entire arm was twisted out of shape, his body hunched in agony, his face contorted with pain.

Everyone present screamed in terror.

This man was terrifyingly strong.

Lu Jing rushed to check on Zhang Wei’s injuries.

Some were shaking with fear, none daring to utter a word.

“Call the police! Hurry, call the police! Zhang Wei’s arm is broken!” Lu Jing shouted after examining Zhang Wei’s arm.

Yet, seeing the icy expression on the intruder’s face, some took out their phones but didn’t even dare to move.

“Call the police? Are you looking for death?”

Chen Ziliang heard someone mention the police and immediately barked this threat, then suddenly lunged at Lu Jing.

Seeing this, Zhang Wei retreated in panic, desperate not to be implicated. Now, he was filled with dread at the sight of this man.

Lu Jing’s face grew ashen as the man closed in, fear draining all color from his features.

The rest of the students shrieked in terror, but not one dared to step forward.

At that moment, Shen An, who had been sitting calmly all along, rose to his feet.

He stamped the floor, which instantly cracked beneath his heel.

In the next moment, Shen An appeared in front of Lu Jing, his right hand clamping down on the intruder’s arm.

Lu Jing felt a surge of safety. He looked up to see Shen An standing before him, smiling.

The man’s arm was firmly held by Shen An, unable to move. His expression grew ever darker.

“Get out!” Shen An suddenly kicked. Chen Ziliang quickly raised an arm to block, his other hand catching Shen An’s leg. Even so, he was sent gliding backward four or five meters before finally stopping.