The Beautiful Boss's Personal Bodyguard
Chapter 316

Chapter 316: 316

Helping relatives over justice, that’s always been Ye Tian’s steadfast quality, and this time is no exception.

"Stop!" A thunderous shout, like a bolt from the blue, but to no avail as nobody even casted a glance at him.

"Kid, what are you doing?"

"He’s my brother."

The landlord was momentarily taken aback, "Oh, your brother, eh? Come on, two of you, let’s beat them together."

How can they be so fucking arrogant, as if this isn’t the Capital. Of the five people beating He Biandan, three were dispatched to deal with this somewhat taller newcomer, while the remaining two continued their merciless pummeling.

Bring it on, I’ve been feeling goddamn irritated.

Sadly, these three just had bad luck, running into a freak like Ye Tian who can fight and take a beating. With three kicks he knocked them down, and once they fell they couldn’t get back up. Ye Tian held back to avoid killing anyone, but even so, those ribs are likely broken.

Ye Tian sighed internally looking at the three people on the ground; one of them was clearly just a teenager. So young, yet already following adults into wicked deeds – a waste.

"I’m gonna fuck you up!"

If a non-local said it, it might’ve been "I fuck your mother" or something similar, but Beiping folks don’t talk that way. They say "your mother’s" and somehow, it feels Beiping people are more decent – not after my mom, just my foot.

The voice came from behind his head; it was Ye Tian’s oversight, not noticing someone approaching from behind. Feeling the cold breeze of a swing aimed at his head, Ye Tian quickly dodged; a dull pain hit his left shoulder as a red brick shattered into two pieces, one half falling to the ground, the other held in the assailant’s hand.

Turning around, Ye Tian got furious. Fuck! I was just bored and took pity on you.

The attacker was a younger guy with a tender face, but bushy eyebrows like weeds and fierce eyes told you he was no good.

Damn, still coming at me. The remaining half-brick flew towards Ye Tian’s head. Ye Tian didn’t duck or dodge, but slapped the assailant’s face, sending them spinning in the air with the brick, collapsing on the ground, silent, knocked out cold.

"Ptui, don’t even have a full set of balls and you’re out here making an ass of yourself!"

The commotion died down and aside from some distant clamor, the entire street seemed to have paused like a scene in a movie.

Ye Tian picked up the half-brick from the ground and walked threateningly towards Zheng Sanpao. He weighed the brick in his hand, sizing up the old fellow in front of him.

This guy stood in a pair of leather shoes, donned a yellow leather jacket, and had a golden collar around his neck—fake fur or mink? Probably the former. But this old fellow’s expansive forehead stuck out, just like an asshole’s head.

"You’re Zheng Sanpao?"

"..."

Ye Tian glared, "Speak up!"

"Yeah." The old man spoke indifferently, probably not taking Ye Tian seriously at all.

"Quite bold, aren’t you? You know it’s wrong to hit people, right? Our country is so harmonious, have you thought about the bad influence your public beating would have? You should know that the state has repeatedly emphasized the need to crack down on all forms of gang-related illegal activities, firmly prohibiting gathering innocent people for illegal crimes. Your action just now has seriously affected public security. Moreover, our five-thousand-year-old civilization has always valued peace above all. Tell me, what’s the matter that it can only be resolved by fighting, right? Think about it..."

Ye Tian attempted reasoning with the man, but he was interrupted before he could finish.

"Who the fuck is so blind to pick a fight with the Zheng Family, damn it!"

A bald man with a group walked over, and the surrounding crowd quickly stepped aside to clear a path. Eight or nine people carrying shovels and heating pipes, clad in thick cotton-padded jackets, heads completely bald and shining, their presence was intimidating. Ye Tian was suddenly alarmed, worrying if he’d encountered an escaped convict.

"Fuck your mother!"

The situation was clearly getting out of control, with the lead bald man raising a shovel to strike, brutally targeting Ye Tian like a rat. Ye Tian only had half a brick in hand, what could he do with that? Dodging nimbly, he avoided the blow, which instead struck the frozen ground, cracking it. The earth was as hard as iron in the dead of winter, usually unbreakable even with a hammer, showing just how ferocious the bald man had been.

Motherfucker, you’re rebelling, huh! Ye Tian was fierce but knew his own strength, aware of how hard he could hit. But these guys, whether the one wildly swinging the rod or the one who used a brick to hit the back of the head, they were all vicious, playing for keeps.

As the bald man saw his shovel miss Ye Tian, he raised it again for another strike.

"Fuck your mother, you think I’m a coward, huh!"

The most extreme way to fight recklessly is to have both sides perish, the lowest is courting death. Sadly, this bald man’s style was the latter, he was throwing his life away. This time, Ye Tian didn’t dodge. Instead, he stepped forward swiftly, raised his right hand, grabbed the incoming shovel, tucked it under his arm, and yanked back, causing the bald man to lose his balance. Charging forward, Ye Tian slapped the man’s face hard, leaving the man’s left cheek burning with pain, his vision filled with stars. Ye Tian was relentless, slapping him again while seizing the shovel in his hand - his tool for survival.

"Bitch, dare to hit me!"

"Smack!" Another hefty slap, and the bald man was sent lying on the ground, his mouth full of blood, his face swollen like a pig’s head – which resembled a butt – panting on the ground, appearing to inflate like using an air pump.

Everyone else was stunned; they’d been involved in underhanded blows, brick-hittings, and choking and bagging people, but they’d never seen someone beaten down by just three slaps. How strong this must be, how much it would hurt, damn!

"Zheng Sanpao!"

Zheng Sanpao standing at the gate was dumbfounded. Though his sons weren’t usually indomitable, they had never been so easily defeated in a one-on-one; usually, they intimidated others into running away just by fighting fiercely. But this time it seemed none of that worked; his youngest son was slapped into unconsciousness, and the second son took three slaps before passing out. Since when did Erwanzi Street have such a character? Zheng Sanpao no longer appeared as arrogant, his hand holding the carrying pole starting to tremble. He surely couldn’t withstand that kind of slap.