Sometimes, being handsome is a sin, and being favored by beautiful women is an even greater sin. Because preceding any successful pursuit of a beautiful woman, something is inevitably sparked. Such is the myriad complexity of the world; trouble, indeed, serves as an excellent catalyst. — Recollections of Yang Yi

The atmosphere was thick with intimacy, a peculiar essence woven into the closeness, an aura perhaps more potent than the ambiguity itself, for where they had sat opposite each other moments before, they were now seated side-by-side.

XuanYuan Bing didn't know why, but today she felt entirely unsettled. The desire to leave felt strangely distant. Subconsciously, she glanced at Yang Yi seated next to her, then delicately sipped her red wine.

“I think we should go; it’s getting late,” she suggested.

XuanYuan Bing, who had subtly hoped Yang Yi would make the next move, paused abruptly, then replied, “Oh.”

Appropriate and subtle maneuvers often leave the door open for the next encounter. Yang Yi knew perfectly well that XuanYuan Bing was a student at Fudan University in Shanghai, the same school he attended. Being too abrupt now might only annoy the delicate beauty.

He, Yang Yi, was no spoiled wastrel, nor a notorious playboy capable of subjugating crowds of beauties merely by emitting a faint aura of arrogance, nor did he typically bombard women with declarations involving billions and stacks of dazzling gold bricks. He was just a rogue—a rogue with a slight depth and a modicum of taste. He admitted his methods for wooing women weren't comparable to those of the high-fliers, but... he possessed his own unique style.

After settling the bill, the two walked out of the bar on foot. Yet, the very moment they stepped outside, a group of over ten young men subtly touched their waists and cast a glance filled with malicious smiles toward the pair.

“Little punks,” Yang Yi muttered quietly, a cold sneer rising within him.

XuanYuan Bing seemed to catch a sound and turned, looking at Yang Yi with confusion. Her face, already flushed from the wine, was now imbued with an added hint of delicate charm under the streetlights.

Yang Yi took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to completely discard his usual cautious restraint. He forced out a slight smile, but it was precisely this awkward attempt that caused XuanYuan Bing, who hadn't genuinely laughed in three years, to let out a sudden, choked giggle.

It wasn't Yang Yi’s smile itself that was laughable, but rather how strained and almost feminine it appeared due to his effort to contain his surging impulses. This made XuanYuan Bing watch him, barely holding back her laughter.

One smile could charm a city; a second could resemble a flower spirit. XuanYuan Bing, in this moment, was like an ice-blossom unfurling within a glacier, radiating a crystal-clear smile amidst the cold desolation—a sight that invited transgression. Others might react differently, but Yang Yi certainly did.

He strode forward in a single, swift motion, his arm sweeping out. In a flash of lightning and thunder, a searing kiss landed upon the stunned and frozen XuanYuan Bing, leaving her utterly flustered. Her eyes snapped wide open; it seemed all the air in that instant had stopped moving. Under the dim lights, she scarcely dared to believe her own heart was still beating.

Her eyes glazed over slightly, and her body suddenly went slack. Just as she began to experience this overwhelming, unprecedented pleasure, a profoundly enigmatic smile touched Yang Yi’s lips, and he released her.

“You…!” XuanYuan Bing was left speechless. She wanted to erupt in anger, yet deep down, she cherished the sensation, rendering her incapable of fury. She wished to speak, but the words at the tip of her tongue vanished, leaving her unsure what to say.

Yang Yi offered a faint smile, about to utter something, when the group of over a dozen youths suddenly materialized, surrounding the two of them. Since they were in the parking lot, these men were remarkably bold.

“Tsk tsk, pretty lady, this kid seems… eh!” The bald youth hadn't finished speaking before XuanYuan Bing’s icy gaze swept over him, sending an unbounded chill down his spine.

Glancing at XuanYuan Bing, Yang Yi’s expression darkened. He turned his head toward the bald youth and asked, “What is it you want?”

“What do we want?” The bald youth, who had been planning how to save face in front of his underlings, smiled inwardly with satisfaction upon hearing Yang Yi’s question; men were indeed easier to deal with. “Nothing much. My buddies and I just think this chick is gorgeous and we want to borrow her for a while!”

Smack! A strange sound of a slap echoed. The bald youth, still frozen while touching his cheek, was utterly stunned.

“Be careful, beautiful women are not easy to provoke,” Yang Yi remarked, watching XuanYuan Bing move without a word, her figure blurring into a faint afterimage that even he barely caught, as she executed a sudden movement.

“Do you know how beasts die?” XuanYuan Bing’s beautiful lips parted, uttering a phrase that finally jolted the surrounding dozen men into action. Her tone was so cold it seemed to freeze the very air.

“I suggest you all disperse now, or you’ll regret it,” Yang Yi added lightly, waving a dismissive hand.

“Damn your ancestors,” the bald youth, perhaps foolishly, spat out the curse. This insult was directed squarely at Yang Yi, completely ignoring XuanYuan Bing standing not far in front of him.

“What did you just say?” Yang Yi’s voice abruptly deepened, becoming intensely hoarse. The air instantly plummeted in temperature, and a chilling aura erupted, far more intense than XuanYuan Bing’s coldness.

“What a penetratingly icy aura!” In the darkness, a middle-aged man watched Yang Yi, his face full of shock, exclaiming inwardly.

XuanYuan Bing, however, turned back to look at Yang Yi with disbelief. Seeing the blood-red glint flickering in his eyes, her delicate body trembled.

“Say that again, you bastard?” Yang Yi wasn't usually the type to fly into a rage over an insult to his parents, but this time, the change was brought on by his experiences after meeting Yang Yitian, which had altered his psychological makeup.

As a Sovereign Great Dao Monarch, he possessed an innate aura that commanded the world, embodying the principle: those who follow me shall live; those who oppose me shall perish. The Yang Yi of today was vastly changed; he could not, would absolutely not, permit even an ant-like creature to insult anyone or anything connected to him.

“Hmph, you little punk, given an inch, you take a mile! Get your weapons, charge!” The bald youth, though feeling a tremor of fear hearing Yang Yi’s tone, relied on the comfort of superior numbers.

“Hmph. Disable both of their arms, every single one!” Yang Yi snorted coldly, not moving an inch, merely fixing the bald youth with a chilling gaze.

“Hmph!” The bald youth echoed Yang Yi’s snort just as the words finished, then shouted arrogantly, “I’ll show you—I can kill you with one finger.”

“Idiot,” the middle-aged man in the darkness cursed under his breath. “The disparity in strength is too vast, yet he remains so arrogant. Ah, people in this modern society have no self-awareness whatsoever.”

“Kill me with one finger?” Yang Yi gave a cold laugh, the rage in his heart suddenly subsiding considerably. This swift change in mood was likely triggered by the middle-aged man hidden in the darkness drawing Yang Yi’s attention.

Seeing Yang Yi’s cold laugh, the bald youth felt a surge of anger, roaring, “Why aren’t you attacking yet!”

Swoosh! The dozen-plus youths moved with aggressive swagger, drawing iron pipes, cleavers, broadswords, and other implements from their waists, closing in on Yang Yi with eerie smiles.

“Humans are always so foolish,” Yang Yi whispered, shaking his head slightly. “Still not moving?”

“Yes!” A strange voice accompanied by wisps of shadow, and six figures materialized with uncanny swiftness. Before anyone—including the middle-aged man in the shadows—could react, a chorus of over a dozen cries of agony erupted. Large beads of cold sweat immediately dotted the foreheads of the aggressors. The bald youth instinctively pinched his own thigh, as if trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You… you… who exactly are you?” Looking at the six figures dressed in ancient-looking, cream-colored robes, any unaware observer might have thought they were filming a movie.

“Tear out his tongue,” Yang Yi said, a cold light flashing in his eyes.

“How cruel!” the middle-aged man in the dark muttered to himself.

Indeed, tongue-ripping was the work of underworld guardians; today, the bald youth earned the role simply for insulting Yang Yi.

Tian Yi flashed forward. Under his absolute power, ordinary men stood no chance of resistance. He drove out a punch. “Mmmph!” The bald youth’s head snapped back, his mouth gaping as if about to vomit his last meal. But Tian Yi’s movement was relentless. He swiftly extended two fingers, pinched the bald youth’s tongue, and pulled back violently, leveraging the strength of his qi.

Sizzling! The scent of fresh blood immediately permeated the entire parking lot. The bald youth, deprived of sensation, his eyes turning icy, collapsed to the ground, clutching his mouth and writhing violently, his choked sounds growing ever louder.

“Hmph,” Yang Yi snorted coldly, his gaze sharp with killing intent. Under the illumination, his murderous eyes suddenly appeared very strange as he flicked a glance toward a specific corner.

“So strong!”