Yang Feng’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and a chill instantly rose from the soles of his feet, surging up his spine, straight to the crown of his head!

The robustly offensive object instantly softened at a visible rate. The sensation of rapid blood loss synchronized with his heartbeat gave him the illusion of suo yang, as if he had been castrated!

He Ye’s experience, however, was far more complex than Yang Feng’s. Yang Feng felt only terror and alarm; she was a collision of ecstasy, fear, and shame. Her body could no longer withstand the intensity of the stimulation, and she sank onto the floor.

Wang Zhuo didn't spare her a glance.

"Y-you, how did you find this place?" Yang Feng was nearly incoherent, utterly unable to fathom why Wang Zhuo would appear here.

His answer was not in words, but in a straight punch aimed at his face.

Thump!

He was sent tumbling backward, sofa and all, by the heavy blow. As Yang Feng’s body tilted back, his legs flew up, his toes catching He Ye’s long hair and sending it swirling spectacularly.

Crash!

With a single kick, the sofa was sent flying aside. Wang Zhuo strode past the wreckage, hauled the dazed Yang Feng to his feet, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed his forehead into his nasal bridge!

He Ye instinctively registered that this move was one she had never seen in any of the videos of Wang Zhuo fighting.

Yang Feng’s proud, high-bridged nose instantly flattened!

The nose was a symbol of masculinity, Yang Feng’s self-proclaimed signature feature of sexiness, and indeed his primary tool for attracting women—yet Wang Zhuo had just reduced it to a pancake with a headbutt!

With his throat locked by Wang Zhuo, Yang Feng flailed, his throat emitting choked gurgles but unable to form a coherent sound.

Wang Zhuo still said nothing, but drove a heavy fist into his abdomen, then tossed his body onto the overturned sofa, lifted his right leg, and delivered a final kick to his rear.

The wretched Young Master Yang, moments ago arrogant and bullying a vulnerable woman, was now a battered punching bag. His body crashed heavily onto the sofa, rolling forward with the momentum until he fell near He Ye.

With his mouth full of blood, several front teeth were visibly missing behind his everted lips—He Ye’s heart clenched instantly, and she quickly scrambled backward.

Wang Zhuo circled back from the other end of the sofa, finally glancing at He Ye this time, before landing another kick squarely in Yang Feng’s stomach.

Yang Feng was well-trained, a skilled practitioner of qiang quan dao on campus—his ability to withstand blows far surpassed the average person. But he was facing a super-competitor who could easily defeat even special forces operatives. He lacked the strength even to attempt a counterattack, unable to poke a single finger at Wang Zhuo.

This kick instantly folded Yang Feng into a hunched shrimp. He curled up, his eyes fixed, trembling violently.

He Ye’s throat went dry. Under the shocking visual assault, her brain finally kicked in. She suddenly realized a crucial detail: when Wang Zhuo entered, she had just been holding Yang Feng’s foot, preparing to lick his toes. Wang Zhuo, however, didn't know she had been coerced. This meant... Wang Zhuo might mistake her for a depraved woman!

But seeing Wang Zhuo’s cold, merciless expression, she didn't dare summon the courage to explain. Who knew what Wang Zhuo was thinking? If he mistook her for lying and deceiving him, he might tear her apart!

He Ye was utterly conflicted, while also sorrowfully acknowledging that after today, any substantive future with Wang Zhuo was impossible. Given his status, even if he took a mistress, he would seek a woman of clean background or a widely famous celebrity. She was just a vile woman licking another man’s feet; Wang Zhuo might not even want her as a servant...

Tears fell again. Having thoroughly offended Yang Feng, been scorned by Wang Zhuo, and likely facing a terrible reputation at school, He Ye finally felt completely lost, unsure of where to turn next.

"Do you know why I’m hitting you?" Wang Zhuo waited until Yang Feng had somewhat recovered, then crouched down, looking down on him as he asked.

Fear flickered in Yang Feng's gaze. Unlike Ma Qiang, who became more ferocious after being beaten, Yang Feng exposed his true colors under crisis—he was, fundamentally, a man who feared death.

Just then, half a peering face poked around the doorway. Wang Zhuo suddenly turned his head to meet the gaze and said coldly, "Get out, and close the door properly!"

Pan Shanshan stumbled out immediately and firmly shut the outer door.

Wang Zhuo's imposing aura was not something she could defy. Even seeing her cousin beaten into a bloody mess, she didn't have the courage to utter a single plea to Wang Zhuo.

Glancing back at Yang Feng's fearful, evasive eyes, Wang Zhuo sneered, "I thought you were quite the big shot. Turns out you’re nothing special."

Now it was the young bully’s turn to wish this nightmare would end. Numerous front teeth were gone, his nose was crushed, and every inch of his body ached. He even suspected Wang Zhuo was intent on killing him and dared not meet Wang Zhuo's eyes.

"You, get up," Wang Zhuo suddenly beckoned to He Ye.

He Ye’s heart jolted, and she hesitantly stood.

"Take this, and film him." Wang Zhuo pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to her.

Yang Feng immediately felt bitterness rising in his mouth. Taking photos and videos of his victims was a move he often employed; now Wang Zhuo was using it against him. Ah, karma...

He Ye’s hands trembled as she took a few shots. Because the focus was unsteady, and fearing Wang Zhuo’s displeasure, she simply kept snapping photos until Wang Zhuo told her to stop.

"Switch to video mode," Wang Zhuo commanded, standing up.

He Ye quickly changed the setting. Yang Feng remained curled up, accepting his fate.

The more Wang Zhuo looked, the more repulsive the boy seemed. Wang Zhuo couldn't resist landing another kick, cursing, "You dog thing!" Yang Feng gagged, struck in the stomach, but Wang Zhuo still felt it wasn't satisfying enough. He stepped forward, bent down, grabbed Yang Feng’s shorts, and yanked hard.

With a rip, the seam of the shorts tore open, exposing his shriveled, ugly genitalia. Moments ago, it had been imposing, ready to violate the campus beauty—now it was a clump of mud, shamefully retracted.

He Ye turned her face away in disgust, only to hear Wang Zhuo impatiently say, "Be serious, film it clearly!" The campus beauty’s heart clenched. She mistakenly thought Wang Zhuo misunderstood her relationship with Yang Feng and felt a pang of sadness.

In truth, Wang Zhuo had already

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