Zhang Qi dared not hesitate any longer. He abruptly shifted gears and stepped on the gas. The car engine roared and shot through the narrow road cleared by the crowd like an arrow. The screeching sound of the tires rolling over the ground was sharp and piercing, leaving the noisy curses that had resurfaced behind him far behind.

The only sound in the carriage was the roar of the engine. Cheng Muyun leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, but couldn't stop trembling all over.

It felt like there was a flying insect caught in a spider's web in his heart. The more he tried to break free, the tighter the sticky threads became, almost suffocating him.

He felt as if he were dangling precariously in mid-air, with a bottomless abyss beneath his feet, and the slightest movement would send him plummeting to his death.

The hallucinations surged uncontrollably—he seemed to see a mob holding torches surrounding the entrance of the Cheng mansion, the firelight illuminating the carved lintel.

In the courtyard, Xu Zhuohua stood alone, wearing the moon-white cheongsam he had given her, her hands tightly gripping the hem of the dress, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes, which were always filled with smiles, were now filled with helpless panic.

“Zhuohua…” he murmured unconsciously, his knuckles gripping the armrest of the seat so tightly that his nails almost dug into the wood.

The more anxious you are, the more likely you are to run into trouble.

Suddenly, the car lurched to a halt, as if pulled violently by something, and stopped without warning.

Zhang Qi's grip on the steering wheel tightened abruptly, his knuckles turning white. He quickly glanced at the road ahead, his pupils suddenly contracting – a black Dodge car was parked diagonally across the middle of the road, clearly having just come to a sudden stop.

"Damn it!" Cheng Muyun cursed under his breath in the back seat, his relaxed brows furrowing into a knot, and anger instantly igniting in his eyes.

He raised his hand and patted Zhang Qi's shoulder heavily, his voice filled with barely suppressed frustration: "Ignore him, just go around him!"

Zhang Qi gritted his teeth, about to shift gears and turn the steering wheel, when he caught a glimpse of something even more chilling out of the corner of his eye.

Suddenly, more than a dozen figures emerged from the buildings on both sides, each dressed in short clothes and holding gleaming axes with wet mud still clinging to their blades.

They moved swiftly, forming an impenetrable circle in the blink of an eye, surrounding Cheng Muyun's car in the very center. The axe struck the car body from time to time, producing a dull "thump-thump" sound, as if striking people's hearts.

Just then, a man with a muscular face walked to the driver's seat. He had a hideous scar on his face that stretched from the corner of his eye to his jaw.

The man stretched out his large, fan-like hand and knocked on the car window, a malicious smile on his face.

Cheng Muyun took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in her heart, and slowly rolled down the car window, her cold gaze fixed on the man.

The scarred man seemed oblivious to the anger in his eyes. He gave a slight bow and spoke slowly with a deliberately respectful tone, "Young Marshal Cheng, my master has prepared a small feast and specially sent me to invite you to join us for dinner."

Cheng Muyun's gaze was as cold as ice, he didn't even lift his eyelids, and his tone was devoid of any emotion: "Who is your master?"

The scarred man's smile lines deepened, and he deliberately lowered his voice: "Your father-in-law, Chairman Luo."

"Tch—" Cheng Muyun rolled his eyes at him as if he had heard a joke, and his tone suddenly turned sharp, "My father-in-law, Cheng Muyun's father-in-law, has only ever been Xu Shinong. Go back and tell your Chairman Luo that I will not entertain you."

The man's smile didn't fade; instead, it turned sinister: "If the young marshal insists on refusing, I'm afraid... Miss Xu will suffer."

With a "whoosh," the air pressure around Cheng Muyun instantly dropped to freezing point.

He drew his pistol from his waist almost instantly, the dark muzzle firmly aimed at the man's temple, his knuckles turning white from the force, his voice filled with undisguised murderous intent: "You'd better think carefully about what you're saying."

The scarred man didn't even blink; instead, he leaned forward, almost touching the muzzle of the gun.

His tone was terrifyingly calm: "Even if you kill me now, young marshal, you won't be able to get back to the Xu family in time. By the time you return, Miss Xu will probably already be..."

He paused deliberately, watching Cheng Muyun's jawline tighten suddenly, before slowly adding, "Why don't you get out of the car and come with us? Our people are nearby, and as soon as we receive the signal, we'll rush in to rescue Miss Xu."

Cheng Muyun glanced at Zhang Qi with a deep, cold look in his eyes, the command in his gaze was crystal clear.

The next second, Cheng Muyun shoved open the car door and, before the scarred man could react, kicked him hard in the knee.

With a soft "crack" followed by a cry of pain, the man lost control and fell forward, landing heavily on his knees in front of Cheng Muyun with a "thud." His knees slammed into the hard ground with a dull thud.

Cold sweat beaded on the scarred man's forehead. He endured the excruciating pain in his kneecap, slowly raised his head, and managed to muster a semblance of composure.

He stretched out an arm and gestured for him to get in, his voice trembling slightly from the pain: "Young Marshal, please get in the car."

Cheng Muyun looked down at him, her tone flat and emotionless: "Where to?"

"Not far, just nearby, very close to the villa." The man lowered his head, his voice even softer.

Cheng Muyun seemed to have heard something interesting and suddenly said, "Then let's go over there."

The scarred man suddenly looked up, his brows furrowing instantly, and his tone carried a hint of impatience: "Young Marshal, I'm afraid this is inappropriate. Chairman Luo is still waiting for you."

Cheng Muyun suddenly curled his lips into a faint smile, but the smile did not reach his eyes at all; instead, it was filled with a chilling coldness.

He leaned slightly forward, staring into the man's eyes, his voice as soft as a sigh, yet carrying an undeniable air of authority: "Is that not allowed?"

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