After the Popov family suffered another defeat, Popov and his grandson began to reassess An Moxue's strength.
The fact that a girl dared to study abroad alone, live alone in such a big house, and say those things to them was enough to show that she was not afraid of them. Both the grandfather and granddaughter realized that they had underestimated her strength.
“Grandfather?” Anthony looked at old Popov, waiting for his decision.
Old Popov's eyes flashed coldly. "We all underestimated her. It seems we have no choice but to deploy the main force of the family."
Anthony hesitated for a moment, then voiced his suspicion, "Grandfather, do you think it's possible that she's a descendant of the Nalan family?"
Even old Popov was uncertain this time, saying, "It's hard to say." After all, the Nalan family only existed in legends, and no one knew the specifics.
At night, An Moxue was researching a new ancient prescription in her spatial pharmacy when she suddenly heard the sound of bells outside. Someone had come, so she quickly came out of her spatial realm, also carrying an iron rod. Last time, the visitor saw blood and dirtied her house, so she couldn't let that happen again this time, mainly because it would be too much trouble to clean up.
An Moxue felt a faint sense of anticipation, hoping that the person who came wouldn't be too weak, otherwise they wouldn't be able to serve as her sparring partner.
The person who came in didn't expect to run into a trap as soon as they entered, triggering the bell to ring. But since they were already here, why would they back down? She was just a little girl, was it really necessary?
An Moxue recognized the sound of the bell as coming from the main entrance. The person who came was probably too confident; she had deliberately left a flaw in a window, and they hadn't even checked it.
An Moxue thought to herself, "How little respect they have for me!"
An Moxue stood imposingly in the living room, holding an iron rod in her hand, her eyes gleaming as she looked in the direction of the newcomer. The living room was unlit, and by the moonlight, shadowy figures could be seen throughout the room, all of whom were martial arts practitioners. The newcomer quickly spotted An Moxue.
"Charge! Surround her!" The leader gave the order, and several men rushed towards her, intending to subdue her and get her hair in the shortest possible time.
An Moxue charged at the group with an iron rod, her sweeping attack halting their advance and preventing them from closing in.
An Moxue spotted the person who had spoken and swung her iron rod at him, while the others defended. Each strike carried a strong wind, and after a few rounds, the group realized they had met their match. This was a hidden master, and they had been led astray the whole time. They knew they couldn't complete their mission that night, so they decided to retreat.
"Since you're already here, how can you just leave like that! Is that so insincere? You should listen to me, your master." An Moxue chuckled softly, the sound of fighting jarringly punctuating the otherwise silent night.
When the visitors tried to leave, An Moxue wouldn't let them go, and the fight escalated from the living room into the courtyard. Now that there was more space, An Moxue wasn't worried about damaging her favorite items. She picked up a stick and started beating them mercilessly, leaving them powerless to fight back. Only then did the visitors truly realize An Moxue's strength.
The sticks struck their bodies, and they could hear the fabric tearing. They could even feel their bones cracking. An Moxue was careful not to hit them too hard, only enough to cause a fracture or a few cuts, but never a broken bone. In the end, the men were in so much pain that they begged for mercy, "Grandma, please, let us go!"
An Moxue hadn't hit anyone so satisfyingly in a long time. She pretended not to hear their shouts and just kept beating them until she was satisfied.
The courtyard was filled with the sounds of thunder and pleas for mercy. An Moxue finally stopped when she was tired of beating the man and he could no longer dodge.
"Don't run away, or you'll face the consequences." After saying this, An Moxue raised the iron rod in her hand. The group looked at each other, then looked at their heads. When they saw her shake her head, they all deflated.
She went inside, turned on the lights in the yard, and then came out with a chair and a cup of tea.
An Moxue sat in a chair, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands, and said, "Come on, I'll give you a chance. Is there anything you want to say?"
The group looked at their head again. He glanced at them, then looked at An Moxue and said, "Miss, we are just following orders. We only want to take a few strands of your hair. We have no intention of harming you."
"Oh—is there anything else?" An Moxue took a sip of hot tea and said, "That's all? It doesn't seem like enough to quell my anger!"
“Well…we are from the Popov family. The old patriarch ordered us to come.” The man tentatively began, and seeing that An Moxue did not speak, he continued, “He also said that after getting the hair, he would teach you a lesson, so that you would know that young people should not be arrogant and should learn to be obedient.”
He spoke cautiously, afraid of angering her and getting another beating. It hurt to even speak now, but he couldn't stay silent. Who would have thought that she was such a ruthless person?
An Moxue spoke softly, but to the group it sounded like a demonic voice. They were afraid that if things went wrong, she would start a new round of beatings. "How do you know if someone will submit?"
The group hesitated to speak, all cautiously watching An Moxue.
She waited in vain for an answer, then let out a soft "Hmm?" The group of people shuddered, and one of them blurted out, "Beat them until they are terrified, so that they can't muster the will to resist, and they'll do whatever you're told."
"So, do you have any intention of resisting now? I can tell you're not responding willingly! Did I go too far?" An Moxue gently stroked the teacup with her fingers. Her words were soft, but they made their hearts tremble.
"No, no, no!" the group answered quickly and urgently, afraid of being beaten again if they were too slow.
"Oh? But I don't think so." An Moxue looked at the group of people, and the eagerness in their eyes was clearly visible.
"Say something useful, otherwise..."
"Everyone in the Popov family is sick, and it gets worse with each generation."
"It seems like they came to collect your hair this time for some purpose, something related to their illness."
"Apart from the old patriarch, few members of the Popov family live long lives, but the old patriarch seems to be in serious condition as well. I'm afraid that if he has another attack, he might not be able to be saved."
"The family's treasure has been lost and has not been found to this day. The old patriarch even asked a priest to perform divination, but we don't know the result."
"The Popov family are all devout believers in shamans and gods."
An Moxue added in her mind, "They don't believe in gods, they believe in evil gods. They are immoral and their beliefs don't align with shamanistic doctrines."
"And you? What kind of military force do you belong to in the Popov family? How many people like you are there?"
“We belong to the core of the armed forces, and there are about twenty others like us.”
An Moxue knew what to do and said, "Do you know what to say when we get back? Get lost!"
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