Scorpion, with his effeminate features and artistically long hair, was the most trusted confidant of the Lan Yunhai father and son.
It was Scorpion who, on the evening two days prior at the horse farm, had kicked Su Ziyu in the lower abdomen when she was wielding a knife to assassinate Lan Yunhai.
Su Ziyu had definitely identified this man.
After being rescued by Mo Hongti, she had also told Mo Hongti about this person.
Mo Hongti, in turn, had told Li Qianfan.
Seeing his "head of beautiful hair" and hearing Chu Yazhi shout "Scorpion!" at him, Li Qianfan knew this was the one who had kicked Su Ziyu.
Alright.
Since Scorpion dared to kick Su Ziyu in the lower abdomen, Li Qianfan would help her settle the score, and he would kick his lower abdomen too!
Scorpion kicked Su Ziyu once.
Li Qianfan wouldn't kick him much more than that, perhaps sixty-four kicks, eight by eight.
If that didn't kill him?
Then hang him!
And so—
In the entire hall, with over a thousand people present, including Murong Mingyuan who was rushing forward, brandishing a horsewhip, everyone witnessed this scene.
Scorpion, standing at 176cm and weighing 65kg (a lean man), became like a lifeless scarecrow after Li Qianfan grabbed his right wrist.
He was kicked, kick after kick, by Li Qianfan in the lower abdomen.
When Li Qianfan kicked, Scorpion shot up into the air.
When Li Qianfan landed, Scorpion came crashing down.
Li Qianfan kicked again, and Scorpion shot up again.
As for the three bodyguards who had lunged forward with Scorpion, no one noticed when or how they were knocked to the ground.
The thousand people present simply watched Li Qianfan’s feet rise and fall, and Scorpion soar and crash.
They were stunned into silence.
Blood splattered!
From Scorpion's nose and mouth.
He had been kicked until his insides felt ripped apart by Li Qianfan’s feet.
Yet, he was not dead.
And Li Qianfan had not released him.
With a blank expression, he still had Jing Ran slung over his right arm, his left hand gripping Scorpion's right wrist, and his left foot moving like a machine, kicking out, kick after kick.
Dead silence.
Eerie.
Terrifying.
How was this possible!?
"Son, the foul blood has splashed on my dress, I want to sit high up."
Jing Ran spoke, her voice sinister and sweet.
She wanted to sit high up?
Sit high up on what?
Wasn't it "hold me high"?
As someone subconsciously thought this, they saw Li Qianfan shake his right arm.
Jing Ran, who was linked with his arm, was suddenly lifted high as if by an invisible rope.
Her black evening gown immediately billowed out like dark clouds, like a dark ink flower.
A dark ink flower blooming in hell!
As this hellish ink flower descended, it landed precisely on a coffin standing upright at the entrance.
*Pat.*
A stiletto heel, from her left foot, landed on the ground.
That flawless white foot immediately curled up in front of the dark ink hem of her dress, helping her to sit down steadily.
Her right foot's stiletto heel, however, lightly swayed beneath the coffin.
Then—
This woman, now the center of attention for a thousand people, gave a wicked smile and produced a black xiao.
She brought it to her lips—
And began to play the tune "Feng Qiu Huang"!
This was the Imperial Wind Villa!!
In the hall filled with a thousand people, colorful banners fluttered, lanterns hung high, and red wedding blessings were everywhere.
At the entrance, however, stood two vermilion red coffins.
On the left coffin sat a stunningly beautiful young woman, holding a xiao and playing "Feng Qiu Huang."
Black gown, beautiful face.
Her snow-white left foot was curled, her right foot’s stiletto heel swayed lightly.
Yet she sat on a vermilion coffin, playing a xiao.
Inside the coffin, there was a dead person dressed in red. httpδ:/m.kuAisugg.nět
In front of the coffin stood a young man, mechanically kicking a man with long, flowing hair, foot after foot.
This—
What kind of scene was this?
"Forgive my ignorance, but I truly cannot conceive of any words or language to describe this bizarre scene."
Young Master Tian Ci, his face filled with intoxicated awe, listened to the ethereal melody of "Feng Qiu Huang" and watched the stiletto heel swaying beneath the coffin. He felt that even a hundred years from now, he would never forget this moment.
Well.
If he could live another hundred years.
The melancholic flute music seemed to transport the thousand people in the hall to the Bridge of Forgetfulness.
The two dead people in the coffin looked as if they were about to come alive, beckoning everyone to drink the Soup of Forgetfulness.
And then there was Murong Mingyuan, who had rushed forward like a white filly, now frozen like a statue seven or eight meters away, holding her horsewhip aloft.
Lan Yunhai felt his hands, his feet, and especially the heart that had been excited at the thought of soon riding a horse and whipping it, turn ice-cold.
He finally recognized the two dead people in the coffin: his confidants Niu Shuo and Yan Lili.
They were supposed to have ruined Ning Xiaolan's purity and recorded it live, according to young master Lan's orders.
Now, they were dead.
Even more unacceptable to Lan Yunhai was—
Su Ziyu's husband was kicking Scorpion in a brutal manner he could never have dreamed of.
Even if Lan Yunhai were an idiot, he knew at that moment why Li Qianfan had come.
Retribution.
Lan Yunhai inexplicably thought of this word.
He then looked at his dear father, Lan Ximing.
His eyes were fixed on the entrance, his whole body trembling.
Then he looked at his beautiful and well-proportioned mother.
She was no longer shouting or ordering, but her delicate body trembled, her face pale.
Then he looked at Old Man Lan.
Old Man Lan's once ruddy face instantly aged by countless years.
Then he looked at Bai Yujing, Du Yingjun, and the others. They all had their lips tightly pressed together.
The Murong family members, who were present for the wedding, also wisely kept silent.
They thought, "This matter has nothing to do with us, the Murong family of Sijiu. Before we figure out what's going on, it's best for us to maintain a valuable silence."
Then he looked at the others—
Whether they watched or not, it was all the same!
Li Qianfan's cruelty and Jing Ran's sinister aura had forcefully subdued the thousand people present.
Only Young Master Tian Ci, with his sparkling eyes fixed on the entrance, was silently praying devoutly.
As the tune ended.
*Pat.*
Li Qianfan finally released Scorpion, who fell to the ground like a scarecrow.
Scorpion's vitality was surprisingly tenacious.
Despite being kicked until his insides felt ripped apart by Li Qianfan, he was still not dead.
"Two evenings ago, at the racetrack not far from here, you kicked my wife Su Ziyu. I hope you understand why I am killing you like this before you die."
Li Qianfan looked down at Scorpion and said calmly.
Scorpion, his mouth full of blood, wanted to say something.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, large amounts of blood gushed out.
"And you few, you tried to forcibly search my wife that evening."
Li Qianfan didn't actually know if the three bodyguards who had rushed forward and been quickly subdued and trampled by Li Xingtang and the others were the ones who had tried to search Su Ziyu.
He just wanted to say what he had to say: "Tonight, you will also die."
As he uttered the last word, "die," Li Qianfan raised his hand.
Li Xingtang raised his hand—
Four young men from the Xingtang took ropes from their waists and nimbly tied them to the steel framework beneath the ceiling.
"Hang these people up,"
Li Qianfan commanded coldly.