Chapter Eighty-One: Who Gave You the Right to Park Here and Block My Way?

“Whose phone call was that?” Fang Yue felt a bit annoyed; their rare alone time was being ruined by a single phone call.

Chen Feng smiled. “Just a friend. He helped me suppress that issue with Luo Wenhao some time ago. Never mind, it’s nothing. Let’s go! I’ll get you excused from night study, so you don’t need to attend. I’ll cook dinner for you!”

“Mm,” Fang Yue nodded gently, then slipped her hand around Chen Feng’s arm. The two left the classroom, chatting and laughing together.

When they reached the school gate, Chen Feng glanced around. There weren’t many students outside, just a few in small groups. He had met Lu Ran a few times recently and knew all too well that Lu Ran was a typical rich second-generation scoundrel. His father was the wealthiest man in Jiang Province, and Lu Ran himself owned several top-tier luxury cars.

“It seems he hasn’t arrived yet,” Chen Feng muttered to himself. Just as his words fell, a black BMW sped toward them from the distance, moving so fast that nearby students hurriedly dodged out of its way.

Chen Feng frowned, muttering inwardly, “Lu Ran is just too arrogant. This is a school, and it’s dismissal time. How can he drive so recklessly here?”

The BMW spun dramatically before coming to a halt right in front of Chen Feng. The door swung open, and a man emerged from the vehicle. Chen Feng was momentarily stunned; it wasn’t Lu Ran, but An Qiye.

Chen Feng didn’t know An Qiye personally, but through An Ran’s relatives, he recognized him. He had even extracted internal cultivation techniques from him, although he hadn’t yet managed to cultivate any internal energy.

An Qiye was dressed in designer clothes and looked quite handsome. After getting out, he casually produced a pristine silk handkerchief, waved it, and pressed it to his nose, as though the air around was so polluted that any trace of it made him uncomfortable.

Chen Feng glanced at An Qiye, feeling that something about him was odd. An Qiye looked like a nouveau riche. Chen Feng had met families with true heritage, like Lu Ran’s. Despite Lu Ran’s prodigal ways, his wealth radiated from his bones and never showed in such pretentious gestures. An Qiye, in contrast, seemed desperate to prove he wasn’t poor, reminding Chen Feng of Luo Wenhao—a person who appeared dignified but was fundamentally worthless.

Chen Feng chose not to acknowledge An Qiye; there was no point engaging with someone like him.

However, An Qiye’s gaze locked onto Chen Feng, and, as if spotting prey, he strode over, chin raised proudly. “You’re that Chen Feng, aren’t you?”

“Hm?” Chen Feng looked at him curiously. “Do we know each other?”

An Qiye sneered, “Know each other? Do you think you’re worthy of knowing me?”

“Seriously?” Chen Feng’s eyes widened. An Qiye was unbelievably arrogant, rivaling Luo Wenhao. Chen Feng rolled his eyes, utterly speechless.

“Listen, kid,” An Qiye sized him up slowly. “I’m here to warn you: stay away from my sister. Take a look at yourself—do you really think you’re worthy of her?”

“What did you say?” Fang Yue, standing beside Chen Feng, spoke up angrily, “Who’s your sister?”

An Qiye realized Fang Yue misunderstood and chuckled, fixing his gaze on her. “I’m not talking about you. My sister is An Ran.”

“An Ran?” Fang Yue looked at him, a little shocked, but also deeply puzzled. Was this man really An Ran’s brother? Their temperament and behavior were worlds apart; An Qiye was brash and looked every bit the nouveau riche.

An Qiye cast a contemptuous glance at Chen Feng and continued, “Alright, kid. Now that I’ve met you, here’s my warning: don’t go after my sister so casually.” His gaze swept over Fang Yue, and he chuckled, “You picked a good substitute, I must admit.”

“She’s not my substitute,” Chen Feng replied seriously. “I have no improper intentions toward your sister. Please stop getting in my way.”

An Qiye laughed, his gaze shifting to Fang Yue’s face. “Little sister, have you ever ridden in a BMW? Want to try out what it feels like?”

“Damn!” Chen Feng cursed inwardly. An Qiye was blatantly trying to steal his girl right in front of him. Fang Yue instinctively held Chen Feng tighter, saying nothing.

An Qiye grinned, “Little sister, you really need to be careful choosing a boyfriend. Just look at yours—he’s a loser. No money, no car. If you stay with him, you’ll suffer your whole life.”

“What do you mean?” Chen Feng stared at An Qiye coldly.

“What do I mean?” An Qiye shrugged, feigning sincerity. “I’m just telling these schoolgirls a simple truth. They haven’t entered society yet and don’t understand its dangers. In this world, you can lack anything but money. Little sister, why don’t you name your price? I happen to be looking for someone new.”

“What did you say?” Fang Yue glared furiously at An Qiye.

An Qiye was about to respond, grinning, when suddenly Chen Feng moved. His arm shot out, fingers curling into a claw, and in a flash, he seized An Qiye by the throat. With a slight exertion, he lifted An Qiye off the ground.

An Qiye had no chance to fight back. His face turned dark purple, unable to utter a word. He tried desperately to strike Chen Feng, but his body wouldn’t respond. Though he had internal cultivation techniques, he hadn’t developed any internal energy, and physically, he was extremely weak. In front of Chen Feng, he was utterly powerless.

Witnessing this, the surrounding students gasped. Many recognized Chen Feng, and shock was written on their faces. How strong was Chen Feng, to lift someone so easily? How terrifying was his strength?

According to comic book stats, Captain America’s strength exceeds half a ton, but Chen Feng was even stronger.

As if confirming the students’ suspicions, Chen Feng casually flung An Qiye aside. An Qiye crashed violently to the ground, his clothes torn, blood streaming, lying limp and helpless like a dead dog.

“Let me give you a simple truth,” Chen Feng said coldly, his face adorned with a chilling smile. “Don’t try to make a move on my woman, or you’ll suffer the consequences. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and try.”

“Damn!” An Qiye cursed, feeling as though every bone in his body had shattered. Struggling to his feet, he glared at Chen Feng and roared, “You bastard, you dare lay a hand on me? Are you tired of living?”

Boom!

Just as An Qiye finished speaking, a deafening crash sounded, and he saw his BMW had been hit. The culprit was a deep blue Aston Martin, which had smashed into the rear of his BMW, leaving a huge dent—a shocking sight.

“Damn it! Who the hell dares to hit my car?” An Qiye was livid. Ever since An Ran had met her fated benefactor years ago, their family had soared to prominence. An Qiye had gone from penniless to wealthy overnight, living a life of status in Jiangzhou. For years, no one dared mock him, everyone showed him respect. Yet today, he’d been tossed aside like trash by Chen Feng, and now his beloved BMW had been hit.

Furious beyond measure, An Qiye was about to lash out when the deep blue Aston Martin’s door opened, and a young man stepped out. The youth possessed an impressive bearing, but An Qiye ignored him, shouting angrily, “Are you blind, bastard?”

The youth walked up to An Qiye and, without warning, delivered a resounding slap to his face.

Smack! An Qiye, still aching from Chen Feng’s earlier attack, saw the slap coming but was too slow to dodge. The blow landed squarely on his cheek.

A loud, crisp slap.

Then the youth spoke disdainfully, “Are you blind? Who told you to park your car here and block my way?”