“Who? Who the hell threw snot? Get the hell out here! See if I don't wipe out your entire nine generations!” A sharp voice, laced with incandescent rage and unparalleled fury, pierced the air…

Jun Xie turned his head to see a slick-haired, powdered young man in a cyan silk robe standing at the stairwell, an overtly made-up woman clinging to his left arm. The youth's face was contorted in anger; a large, gooey glob of snot clung to his right cheek—the masterpiece of Tang Yuan, Fatty Tang. He was frantically wiping at it.

With his back to the stairwell, Tang Yuan casually flicked the snot away. It should have flown harmlessly to the floor. Yet, by sheer coincidence, the moment Tang Yuan flung it outwards, the young man—entirely absorbed in caressing the woman in his arms with both hands—was stepping onto the stairs, just poking his head around the threshold. The projectile of mucus flew right at him. Had he not abruptly turned his face, the lump might have flown straight into his mouth…

Jun Xie stared, utterly dumbfounded, before finally erupting into laughter. Shaking his head and waving his hands in mock admiration, he chuckled, “Fatty Tang, your aim is truly incurable. I’m impressed, truly impressed…”

Tang Yuan was stunned speechless for a long moment before managing a wry smile. “It’s not my aim that’s incurable, it’s this bastard’s luck—it’s unbelievably heaven-defying…”

That was true enough. Between Tang Yuan and Jun Xie, they knew almost every notorious young scoundrel in the entire Tianxiang City. Since this fellow was foppish, arrogant, and brazen, he was undoubtedly trouble, but since they didn't know him, he had to be some unknown riffraff among the local wastrels.

And this unknown person had not only been slimed in the face but had also dared to insult the two most famous young rakes in the capital, Jun Mo Xie and Tang Yuan. His luck truly defied description; it was genuinely legendary.

As the two spoke, the youth finally focused on them. He released the woman clinging to his left arm and strode over menacingly. His face twisted in rage as he roared at Tang Yuan, “Go to hell, you fat pig! Are you looking to die? And you, pretty boy, what the hell are you laughing at!?”

Jun Xie’s expression immediately darkened. He had initially intended to caution Tang Yuan against beating the man to death, as Fatty was clearly in the wrong. But upon hearing those words, he settled back comfortably in his seat. Deserves to be beaten dead!

Tang Yuan was no saint to begin with, and to top it off, he was at his absolute lowest point, desperately needing something to vent his frustrations upon. Hearing those curses, he exploded in fury. His rotund body, like a volleyball struck hard by a spike, sprang up instantly. Smack! His thick, bear-paw-like right palm made intimate contact with the side of the youth’s face.

The youth never imagined that Tang Yuan, who was already at fault, would resort to violence without another word—a truly rare sight among such spoiled brats!

Physically weak, the youth couldn't possibly dodge. He took the blow squarely, staggering two full circles before collapsing onto the ground. The world spun with stars before his eyes. His mouth opened, and Ptooey! Three or four pearly white teeth, slick with fetid blood, shot out.

Tang Yuan lunged forward with a ferocious face, his nearly four-hundred-jin frame slamming down, pinning the man underneath. He hammered blows left and right into the youth’s face, cursing with every punch: “Damn your ancestors! I’m in a foul mood, and you dare to bring me bad luck? Me flicking snot on you was already showing you respect, and you dare curse your elder? If I don’t beat you, you bastard, to death today, I’d be letting your bratty lineage down!”

Each word was punctuated by a punch, delivered with rhythmic intensity, eliciting shrieks that rose in pitch like a pig being slaughtered.

Crack! The youth’s leg bone snapped under the sheer weight of Tang Yuan… The youth let out a scream that was no longer human, his body convulsed, his head lolled to one side, and he passed out cold.

Only then did the woman who accompanied him snap out of her shock. A piercing, shrill shriek, higher than eight octaves, ripped through the air like a cry from the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau.

“Stop screaming!” Tang Yuan bellowed fiercely, his brow menacing. The woman froze instantly, only to resume screaming with sheer terror, craning her neck. Then, she tumbled and scrambled toward the stairs down below. A loud thud, a muffled cry, followed by a rolling sound indicated that in her panic, the woman had lost her footing and tumbled down the stairs like a ball.

“Enough! You’ve vented your anger, that’s fine. If you hit him anymore, you’ll actually kill him!” Jun Xie frowned, finding the outing rather dull today.

“Even if I did kill him, so what? Trouble? Who dares bother me!” Tang Yuan delivered two more hard punches before standing up, panting heavily. Fighting was hard work; Young Master Tang was thoroughly exhausted. He shot a glance sideways: “In the entire capital, there aren't many people Tang Yuan dares not kill!”

“This guy might actually have some background,” Jun Xie tilted his chin toward the entrance. Rapid footsteps sounded from outside; quite a few people were converging on their location swiftly.

Tang Yuan dismissively curled his lip. “If he doesn't even know you or me, what background could he have? Just some small piece of trash! Even if his great-great-grandfather showed up, this young master could press him flat with one finger!”

“The… the two villains are upstairs. Young Master Qin… Young Master Qin is here too.” The woman’s panicked voice echoed from downstairs, followed by several swish, swish sounds of blades being drawn and the clatter of chains, as heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.

In an instant, five or six burly men stood before the pair, their faces grim. They glanced at the youth lying on the ground, covered in blood, their expressions furious. One man, who bore some resemblance to the victim—square-jawed with a thick, curly beard—had eyes blazing with fire. He waved his hand: “What are you waiting for? Help the Young Master up, and take these two insolent wretches down!”

Four strong men acknowledged the order and stepped forward to engage.

Standing beside them were several men in constable uniforms. Hearing the command, one attempted a smooth approach: “Gang Leader Qin, perhaps you should let us handle this matter? We will certainly…”

“Nonsense! My son is beaten like this, and you want to handle it? These two bastards, I’m taking them both today! I won’t spare a single one! I want to see who in the territory of this Drunken Immortal Tower in the North City dares touch my son, Qin Hu!” the man roared in explosive anger.

The constable, trying to curry favor, had instead been thoroughly reprimanded and was now left looking awkward and silent.

This man, clamoring for vengeance, was Qin Hu, the leader of the North City Gang, one of the six major local syndicates in Tianxiang City. As for the youth on the ground, he was Qin Hu’s only son, Qin Xiaobao—a scoundrel with some measure of clout, after all.

“So your son cannot be touched?” Jun Xie stared at him coldly, feeling a surge of irritation just looking at his overbearing demeanor. He set a trap: “But can your son touch others? Are common folk like us simply supposed to let your precious son bully us?”

Qin Xiaobao might possess some status among the wastrels, but that depended on who he was measured against. Today was his day of doom, running headlong into the city’s two most powerful young libertines, especially when one of them was in a delicate state requiring fierce emotional release. It was like a rabbit confronting a tiger and a hungry wolf—truly an irony of fate!

“Hahaha… Who dares touch my son, Qin Hu? Whoever dares, I’ll exterminate their entire clan’s nine generations!” Upon hearing Jun Xie claim to be a commoner, Qin Hu’s confidence swelled. He glared viciously at Jun Xie: “Pretty boy, you’ve beaten my son into this state—do you expect to live?”